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The first thing Neal noticed was the silence.
There was no chatter, no phones ringing, no clatter of keyboards - just the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the faint echo of footsteps somewhere far down the hall. That was new. That was unusual.
Neal sat back against the cold metal bench, rolling his shoulders like he could shake the tension out of them. It didn’t work.
He’d been arrested before. Plenty of times. But this felt different.
The door clicked. Neal didn’t bother looking up. He already knew who it was. “Bit excessive, don’t you think?” he said lightly. “I mean, I get it. Orange isn’t my color, but straight to lockup? That feels personal.” The silence that followed felt oppressive. Neal’s smile faltered as he finally lifted his gaze.
Peter Burke stood on the other side of the bars. And he looked... Not angry. Not even disappointed. Worse. He looked certain.
“Well,” Neal said after a beat, forcing the ease back into his voice. “That’s new.”
Peter didn’t return the smile. “You want to tell me why you did it?”
Neal blinked. “Wow. No ‘hello,’ no ‘how are you,’ just straight to accusations. I’m hurt.”
“Neal.” The tone of Peter’s voice was flat and controlled and already decided.
Cold dread slid down Neal’s spine. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, a little sharper now. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
Peter stepped closer to the bars. His jaw clenched tightly. “The Caldwell account. Five million gone overnight. Clean job. Elegant.” His eyes locked onto Neal’s. “Familiar.”
Neal let out a breath and shook his head. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”
“Do I?”
“Yes,” Neal said forcefully. He stood up, irritation written all over his face. “Shockingly, I don’t commit every artful financial crime in a fifty-mile radius.”
Peter didn’t move. “Your ankle monitor went dark for six minutes.”
Neal stopped short. “That’s not possible.”
“It is,” Peter said. “It did.”
Neal frowned. “Then it malfunctioned. Or someone tampered with it.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Neal’s frustration spiked. “Yes, actually, I do. Because I didn’t do this.”
Peter’s gaze didn’t waver. “We found your prints.”
Neal froze. “What? Where?”
“On the access panel.”
Neal shook his head immediately. “No. No, that’s... I’ve never even been near--”
“You’re telling me someone planted them?” Peter asked in disbelief.
“Yes!” Neal threw his hands out pleadingly, desperately. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
Peter just looked at him calmly.
“Peter,” Neal said quietly, stepping closer to the bars. “Come on. You know me.”
A flicker of something crossed Peter’s face. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
Relief sparked in Neal’s chest. Briefly. Because then Peter looked away, and it shattered.
“That’s the problem.”
Neal’s stomach dropped. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, don’t do that. Don’t... Please don’t twist this into something it’s not.”
Peter exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “Everything points to you, Neal.”
“Then everything’s wrong.”
“Your monitor went down.”
“I didn’t touch it!”
“Your prints are on the panel.”
“Then they were put there!”
“You had the skill, the motive--”
“What motive?” Neal snapped. “What possible reason would I have to pull something like this now?”
Peter didn’t answer. And that was worse than anything else.
Neal stared at him, his heart clenching. “You really think I’d throw all of this away?” he asked softly. “The deal? My freedom? You?”
Peter’s jaw clenched.
“Why don’t you trust me?” Neal whispered.
For one second, Peter looked like he didn’t have an answer. Then the walls went back up. “Because this is who you are,” he said quietly.
The words felt like a slap to the face. Neal actually rocked back a step. “No,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “No, that’s who I was.”
Peter didn’t respond. He just stood there, unmoved, unyielding, like the decision had already been made and Neal was the only one who hadn’t gotten the memo.
A guard appeared at the door. “Time’s up.”
Peter glanced at him, then back at Neal. For a moment, it looked like he might say something else. But he didn’t. Instead he turned and walked away.
“Peter!”
The guard unlocked the door. “Let’s go.”
Neal didn’t move. His eyes stayed fixed on the empty space where Peter had been standing, as if he could rewind the last five minutes and make it go differently if he just stared hard enough.
“Come on, Caffrey.” The guard’s hand closed around his arm. Neal allowed himself to be pulled back. Because the worst part wasn’t the cuffs or the cell or even the charge.
It was the look on Peter’s face. Not anger. Not disappointment. Certainty.
And Neal didn’t know how to deal with that.
THE END