Justice and Crime

Chapter 1

    My phone rang shrilly, piercing whatever silence there is on a New York morning. I looked down at the contact that had appeared, to see my boss calling. I grumbled and picked up the phone trying to remain as happy as possible at 7:30 in the morning, on a Thursday.
    "We need you to go down to the White Collar Unit today. An owner of a foundation is supposedly siphoning money into their personal bank account and the FBI needs your help to make the bust," the district prosecutor told me over the phone. I sighed, frankly I disliked cases like this because they were often so cut and dry, you didn't have to fight your side because the evidence was already so stacked up. But Sterling Andrews was my boss, and he, would most likely be promoting me one day.
    "Okay, Sterling. Do you know any details about the work I'm going to be doing?"
    "Nothing except that Peter Burke, White Collar's director requested a prosecutor for the case. I need you to get down there immediately."
    "I'll be there asap," I replied and the dial tone clicked.
    I finished my breakfast with a few quick gulps and rushed out of my Manhattan apartment to my car, dreading the awaiting rush hour traffic.
    Loud horns and squeaky brakes made up the sounds of every New York morning. I took a quick look in my rearview mirror and examined my brown hair that cascaded down my shoulders in waves. My green eyes sparkled in the traffic light glow.

    Once inside the building I went to the elevator and proceeded to go up 34 floors. I tapped my foot, a little nervous, I had never actually been to the FBI. The sliding doors opened to a bustling scene. Men and women moved around the large office, all with a certain mission. I opened the door cautiously.
    "Are you the prosecutor?" A slim, medium height women asked, a little out of breath.
    "Yeah, Alexa Cassano," I held out my hand and she shook it firmly.
    "Diana Barrigan," she replied. "Peter is just up these stairs in the conference room."
     She led me up a staircase into a glass surrounded room.
    "Ms. Cassano," a middle aged man with brown hair, I assumed to be Peter shook my hand.
    "Alexa," I said, not wanting to be referred to as "Ms Cassano."
    "I needed your input on this case. Sorry that you had to come all the way down here, but it's for the best that you are, in order to assist us." With that a familiar man came rushing through the door, a file in hand.
    "Peter I got the file you--," he broke off after he saw me standing there.
    Blue eyes and dark hair. I had met him before, then it hit me.
~
    It was a cool day in Central Park, three years ago. The leaves were budding on the trees and it was the warmest day since October. I was out for a run that morning. I was still in Columbia Law School and would be graduating that May.
    Me, being the klutz that I normally am, stopped paying attention and before I knew it I had tripped over a rock. I hit the pavement with a slam. My eyes going blurry as I did. I looked down at my knee to see it oozing with crimson blood. I dusted off my hands that were pounding from the impact and gingerly stood up.
    I hobbled down the path looking for the nearest bathroom, catching the attention of passerby. An attractive man in a button up white shirt caught my eye and rushed over to confront me.
    "Do you need help?"He asked.
    I looked into his concerned eyes. This was very confusing since New Yorkers almost pay that much attention to the people around them.
    "Yeah, a Band Aid would be good," I replied with a half smile.
    "Sit down on this bench and I'll be right back," He gently took and arm and ushered me to the bench.
    He rushed off down the path and was gone for all of about 2 minutes. I sat there a little confused.
    "He's either just really nice, or a serial killer," I thought to myself. "I can totally defend myself and there's tons of people out."
    I saw the "good samaritan"(maybe serial killer) come jogging back up the path, bandaid and tissues in hand. I was a little nervous watching him approach me. He extended a hand full of supplies to me.
    "Thanks, I'm surprised anyone would offer their help in New York," a half laugh escaped, mainly out of anxiousness.
    I gingerly began dressing to the wound and the unknown man sat down next to me on the bench. I actually had to talk to him now then, my predicament limited me from walking away.
    "I'm Nick Halden," he said in an enticing voice that made me want to draw closer to him. I looked up from my ensanguined knee, and locked eyes with Nick. I silently debated with myself whether or not to give him my name.
    "I'm Alexa Cassano," I replied, a little out of impulse. I applied the final bandaid and sat up right against the bench.
    "Do you always fall in Central Park? Or are you a tourist" A humorous smile tugged at his lips.
    "Only on Saturdays," I chuckled. "I'm actually very clumsy, I'm surprised this hasn't happened before. Why did you want to help me?"
    "You were bleeding everywhere, I'd rather help you out than go on with my day filled with regret," Nick answered with a smile.
    I laughed, maybe a bit uncomfortably because Nick quickly asked, "So, what do you do?"
    I quickly blurted out, "I'm a secretary." In the moment I was a little embarrassed, but happy I didn't tell him I was actually in law school. The wheels began turning in my head and I added to the story, "I'm actually studying to be a nurse, but needed something to pay the bills."
    "The world needs more hardworking people like you. I'm an insurance agent."
    "Oh, so you help people get a home and auto bundle, how exciting!" I teased.
    "It's more complicated than that. Sometimes it's home, auto, and life bundle."
    We both laughed over our earnest babble. I checked my running watch to see the time at a quarter to three. I had to be getting back to meet my good friend Tamara who I had befriended over my law school career.
    "I actually have to get going. Thank you so much for helping me out, I really appreciate it," I stood up ready to run back to my apartment.
    "It was really nice meeting you Alexa, good luck becoming a nurse."
    "Goodbye Nick, save people money!" I replied and began jogging away, my scraped up knee only slightly stinging.
~
    The memory hit me hard, I was surprised I had remembered it so well. And now here Nick was standing, not an insurance agent. Than again I wasn't a secretary studying to be a nurse.
    Peter swiveled around to face him and grabbed the file.
    "Alexa, this is Neal Caffrey my CI."
    "Neal, this is Alexa Cassano, one of the lead district prosecutors."
    We shook hands, pretending this was our first time meeting. Well I guess it was, under our real identities.
    The man I just found out was Neal, not Nick looked about as stunned as I was. He stared at me with a surprised look, as if wondering how our paths had met three years later. I was wondering the same thing. The meeting muddled on. All I felt was Neal's sharp gaze trained on me the whole time.
    "Well, thank you for the help. We'll call you if we need anymore assistance," Peter stood and and shook my hand again.
    "You're welcome, hopefully now you can nail this guy," I replied.
    "Nice to meet you Alexa," Neal said with a smile that seemed too mischievous to be true.
    "You too," I attempted to hold back a smile from the irony of the situation
    I walked back down the stairs and out of the double doors. I couldn't believe that Nick was actually Neal and that I could potentially be seeing him more often. Right before I was about to hit the button for the elevator Neal's voice that was becoming even more familiar called after me.
    "Alexa Cassano, the secretary. How are you? It's been a few years."
    I whipped around to see Neal looking playfully at me. I gave him a small smirk and sauntered over to him.
    "Nick Halden, the insurance agent," I replied. "Or should I say convict." He was a little taken aback by this abrasive statement, but chuckled out of amusement.
    "I'm interested by you, Alexa. I still don't know why you lied about who are, I assume you were in law school at the time we met."
    "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers. Why would I tell some random New Yorker my life story?" I avoided his questioning.
    "I'm not random anymore. Let's talk over dinner tonight," he flashed a charming smile. Though the offer seemed enticing, did he just assume I didn't have plans or a boyfriend(I didn't have either).
    "I owe you answers now?"
    "I just want to have a friendly talk about what happened in these three long years. I helped you out, I think you do owe me one."
    "Drinks, 8 o'clock at Twigs. It's around the corner, so it's in your radius," I peered down at his state of the art tracking anklet. It was hard to hide. It seemed no matter how free everyone perceived him, he was always chained down.
    Neal smiled at my snarky comment, "I look forward to it." With that we both walked away.