White Collar - as an unofficial novel - part 2

Brigittes

When Peter returned to his office Neal met him outside.

"How's it going in there?"

"It's fine," Neal assured him "Any luck on Dorsett?"

"No," Peter sighed. He had noted the kid's change of subject but let it be for now. "Assuming you just walked with a hundred grand in cash and the painting, what do you do?"

"Go to ground till things cool off."

"Where do you go?" Peter wondered. Neal did not have an obvious answer. "Dorsett said something about having a girlfriend."

"Brigitte."

"Yeah. How many Brigittes came in from France last night?"

"I'll get a list," Neal moved towards the stairs. "Or rather, I'll ask Jones, since I don't have that clearance. Peter, don't you think it's time-"

"No, I don't. Come back in three years and ten months and ask me then."

"Do you mean I can work for the FBI when I'm released?"

Pleased, Peter saw glitters of hope in Neal's eyes.

"I didn't say that," he replied but felt it was too harsh. He wanted nothing more than have Neal around. But it was too far ahead to make such plans. "Lets' see when we get there, right?"

Neal grinned and disappeared towards Jones' desk. Peter walked into his office and Julianna.

"That painting belongs to me and my grandmother before me," she stated.

"I understand."

"But that doesn't mean you'll return it to me if you recover it, does it?"

"No. I'm sorry."

He got a glare from the young woman reflecting no understanding whatsoever.

"Can I leave?"

"Of course you can. I'll keep you posted."

She rose.

"Goodbye, Agent Burke." She said it with a tone as if she wanted him out of her life forever, which was probably just what she wanted.

"I follow you out."

He did, but the young woman could not have cared less.

"Take care, Julianna."

When he returned into the office Jones jabbed a list on a clipboard into his hands.

"Brigittes as requested."

Peter saw a list of about twenty names. Then he saw it was the first page out of two and the second page was just as full.

"Accounting middle names and spelling variations a lot more than I thought," he admitted.

His team gathered around him.

"Discount connecting flights," Neal suggested.

"And women over fifty," Peter added and met Neal's gaze. Jones stared at him, too. So he had presumptions but... "Tell me I'm wrong."

None of them protested.

"Well, that leaves seven," Jones concluded.

"All right. So let's pull in some teams and everybody take a Brigitte."

"We'll take the girl staying at the Gansevoort," Neal pointed at the list as if he had just waited for it. Peter glared. What was the kid up to now?

"That's where I'd stay," Neal explained. He looked innocent enough. Didn't he always?

Though Neal had suggested the location, he did not fancy sitting in the car watching the fun. It was even harder to sit still than in the van. In the car, he did not have to fight claustrophobia, true, but he saw people doing all the things he wanted to do and could not.