Las Vegas. Sunday evening. June 27, 2004.

After checking in with Tricia, Neal went into the Flamingo and sought out the poker games. A wall featuring photos of champions caught his eye. There were pictures of Robert, and one of Robert with a teenaged Henry, both grinning. He stared at that photo, having never seen this father and son look so happy together.

A woman in a casino uniform approached and said, "He claimed the kid was eighteen, and as his father they took his word. Looks more like fifteen to me, though." Her voice was husky from cigarettes and whiskey. "This room is for players."

Neal took the hint and sat at a table. Although dressed like Henry, he didn't try to act or sound like him here. She shuffled the cards and dealt. Neal picked up his cards, saying, "The kid looks familiar. I've played with Henry before, but I didn't know his dad gambled."

"I wasn't here when that photo was taken, but I've heard about it. Dad and his kid took first and second place in the tournament, and it was a nail-biter. Could have gone either way, but the dad got a better hand in the end. They say he laughed and called it a tie, and then insisted the kid join him in the photo of the winner. Robert comes here every summer, with his brothers. The kid joined them last summer. Not a kid anymore though."

Neal made his bet as she paused. "Are there pictures of the brothers, too?"

The dealer – her name tag said she was Tammy – took Neal's chips and dealt again. "No. They don't play worth a damn. Only Robert and his son have any talent for the game."

Neal asked more about the tournament, and was careful not to win big. He didn't want to be memorable at the Flamingo, didn't want anyone to tell Robert someone had been asking about him. He left a decent tip and quit the game after about an hour, heading back to his hotel. He really did want quiet and privacy for this call.

When Noelle answered, he was pleased but surprised. "I thought you said there's almost no cell coverage in Paradise."

"That's part of the appeal," she said. "But I stayed in Seattle. Mom and Dad and Paige went to Mount Rainier with Angela."

"You haven't told them about Joe yet?"

"No. We're here for Angela. I don't want to steal the limelight from her."

Neal thought that over and said, "And you're looking for Robert, aren't you?"

"Henry, actually, but I suspect finding either one will lead me to the other. When I called Graham and demanded more information, he told me Henry was watching us from the water, and I found the boat he was using, or rather, the slip where the boat was docked. People at the marina recognized his picture, but the boat was long gone."

"What can you tell me about Robert's annual trip to Las Vegas?"

There was a pause, and she responded with an unexpected smile in her voice. "I'd forgotten those. He and his brothers would go for a week in late July. He took Henry a couple of times, before the divorce. You know, those trips were some of the few occasions they were in perfect accord after Henry reached his teens. Robert taught him to play poker, and when they were absorbed in a game they could ignore everything else. I'd planned to ask for a divorce when they returned from that last vacation, but they were so happy when they got back home I couldn't bring myself to do it. I waited a few weeks, hoping they'd find a way keep that camaraderie, but it only lasted a day after they got back home."

"Did he always stay at the same hotel?"

"Mmm. I think so. The Flamingo? Yes, he had a superstition about that. He always stayed on the same floor. I don't remember the number, but I suppose the FBI can find out."

"I think we can. How did Robert spend his winnings?"

"Oh, he never won much. Maybe enough to pay for the trip. Do you think Robert will go back to Vegas?" When Neal didn't answer, Noelle asked, "Is he there now?"

"No," Neal assured her. "I haven't seen any sign of him, but I think he's been here at least once since he disappeared."

"And that means Henry's been there, too."

"Yeah, he's been here." Neal wrapped up the conversation with his aunt, and afterwards thought about Henry. He'd never mentioned who'd taught him to play poker. It was odd to think of Henry and his father actually getting along, and yet Neal knew that they hadn't always been fighting. There had to have been good memories to make Henry believe until recently that they could be reconciled, that his dad meant well and loved him.

A glance at the clock showed Neal it was nearly 11:00. Neal Legend had a performance scheduled at midnight. Theo Guy had come through with a friend who had trouble getting singers for Sunday and Monday, which were slow days. Neal took a cab, and was at the club within minutes. He dressed for the performance and warmed up onstage, where his rendition of "Here Without You" by 3 Doors Down soothed the nerves of the club manager who was taking a chance on a singer he'd never heard before. Satisfied that Theo hadn't led him astray, the manager let Neal return to the dressing room. Neal called Peter at 11:40, a little early for their check in, but he was supposed to be singing at midnight.

"Neal?" There was a sound of creaking bed springs. It was almost 3am in New York.

"Yeah. Listen, I stumbled across a lead on Robert."

"You're not supposed to be looking for Robert," Peter admonished.

"I wasn't. It came as a surprise, but I found a picture of Robert and then confirmed with Noelle that he comes to Vegas every summer with his brothers. They always stay at the Flamingo, always on the same floor that Robert thinks is lucky. He plays poker when he's here, and a dealer at the hotel remembers him. She said he visited in the spring this year, sometime in March, and was alone this time."

"You think he's financing his disappearance with gambling?" Peter was walking, probably heading downstairs to talk without disturbing Elizabeth.

"No, I think when he decided to disappear he came here to access money he's been stashing for years, and gambled for fun as long as he was in town. Peter, my source tells me Robert is good at poker. Championship good. He times his visits around an annual tournament, and wins big. Twice he won the whole thing. There's a cash prize of fifty thousand dollars for the champion, but he told Noelle he barely won enough to pay for the trip. He's been making a lot of money and stashing it someplace she didn't find out about."

"Not even in the divorce settlements. I'll bet Noelle had a sharp attorney for that. Robert must have had a clever hiding place for his winnings. This is good, Neal. If we can find when Robert was there, that could lead us to an alias he's using. And maybe we can freeze his account if there's any money left in it. I need to talk to Jones."

"Go ahead. That's all I've got for you. Now I'm focusing on Henry again."

Peter was so eager to follow the lead on Robert that he didn't mind cutting the call short. Neal was on stage at the appointed time, and back to his hotel room by 3am for the next check in. It didn't take much effort to convince Peter that Neal was tired and hadn't learned anything new in the last three hours. He even convinced Peter that a 6am call from Vegas was cruel and unusual punishment, and that he could actually get six hours of sleep and wait until 9am to call Tricia. And of course there'd be nothing to report in that call except that he'd caught up on some sleep.

###

Peter spoke with Jones and they agreed to meet in the office by 7am. Fortunately Graham Winslow was a morning person and didn't mind the early call to ask him about Robert's trips to Vegas. Graham also didn't mind rousting his other two sons to get to the bottom of it, demanding to know why they hadn't mentioned this source of income when Robert first disappeared.

The brothers admitted to knowing Robert won big, but insisted he didn't keep the money. He told them he gave it to charity, and they mentioned a plaque hanging in his office that was an acknowledgement of his generosity. Since Robert didn't go on any spending sprees after these trips, they had no reason to believe he'd kept the money. But it didn't take long for Jones to discover the charity was a sham, and the account Robert had created in its name was slowly being drained of funds. They considered freezing the account, but opted to monitor it instead to help them track Robert's movements.

Peter had been surprised not to see or hear from Hughes. They'd sent him updates over the weekend, and the sighting of Robert was big news. But shortly after the morning briefing, Jones and Travis conferred and announced they had uncovered a glitch that was preventing email from flowing outside the office, the result of a recent update to their email server. For the last thirty hours they'd been unable to send or receive messages to anyone with a remote connection. With the new settings that Jones provided, Peter received a message Hughes had sent Sunday morning, explaining that he'd been called to D.C. for an emergency meeting.

Several updates Peter had sent to his boss finally left his outbox, and within minutes Hughes called. Peter had Jones close the door to his office and put Hughes on speaker. "How's the meeting?" Peter asked, curious about the emergency that had called Hughes away.

"Depressing," said Hughes. "The news broke this weekend about unrest in Eastern Europe. There are fears of continued violence, and that sympathizers in the U.S. could mimic their actions here. We're going over contingency plans, and that could include temporarily reassigning agents from divisions like yours to support anti-terrorism efforts."

"Is that likely?" Peter asked, knowing how much El would hate having him assigned to working violent crimes.

"Too soon to say. I don't have much time, but I want to make sure I'm clear about the progress on the Robert Winslow case. In the course of twenty-four hours, he was found and escaped in Seattle, and you found the money he's using to fund his disappearing act in an account in Las Vegas. Is that correct?"

"That's right," Peter confirmed.

"And you mentioned Caffrey. Is he the one who found Robert, or did he find the money?"

"Both," Peter said.

"Am I to understand that after months of no leads, Robert and his money were found over a weekend by a consultant who isn't supposed to be working on this case? How is that even possible?"

"It's not that surprising, in my opinion," Jones said. Then he looked at Peter and shrugged. "Sorry. I don't mean to disparage the Bureau processes, but the fact is that for all their enmity, it became clear early in the case Robert and his son have a lot in common. Similar intelligence and skills, among other things. Henry's out of our reach, but the person we know who thinks the most like him is Caffrey. Once we let Caffrey try to sniff out Henry Winslow, I'm not surprised he uncovered leads on Robert, too."

"Agent Jones, you're not upset at Caffrey stepping on your case?" Hughes asked.

"Not at all. I said a week ago that we should make more use of him, since we weren't getting anywhere."

"Burke, how much of this was Caffrey's doing, and how much was you coaching him?"

Peter was surprised by the question. They were a team, weren't they? "He's being coached by Agent Wiese on this one. He asked for her advice."

"Isn't she..." Hughes was probably commenting on the fact that Tricia was on vacation, but the line crackled and they lost the connection. They tried calling him back, but were sent to voicemail.

"Are we going to be in trouble over Caffrey's involvement in the case?" Jones asked.

Peter shook his head. "Not if we catch Robert."

###

After checking in with Tricia at 9am, Neal called Mozzie to talk about the Urban Legend conspiracy. "I don't have a laptop with me to check the Urban Legend site," Neal said. "Were you able to use the recordings I got from Miranda?"

"I'm posting them at intervals to drive up traffic. It's working, but I need other types of content. When are you going to do something newsworthy?"

"Tonight, with your help. Last night Neal Legend performed here in Vegas. He covered current songs by 3 Doors Down, a few new songs by Miranda Garza that haven't been recorded yet, and ended with a spooky version of 'Heart-Shaped Box' by Nirvana."

"A song purportedly about cancer, which is thought to be Neal Legend's cause of death. Why didn't you give me advance notice? I could have gotten reporters there."

"Because Shawn Legend is performing at the same venue tonight, with a very similar set list, including 'Let Me Be Myself.' A conspiracy theorist might wonder if Neal Legend and Shawn Legend are the same person and Shawn is lamenting his loss of identity."

"Or if Neal truly did die and Shawn Legend is trying to play both roles now. For publicity? Or out of regret that his brother died before they achieved the success Shawn promised they'd have if Neal stayed in the duo rather than going to college?" The sound of typing indicated Mozzie was already making updates. "I can guarantee reporters and curious music fans will seek out Shawn's performance tonight. Does this mean you found Henry?"

"Briefly, but he won't be performing. Tonight I'm playing the role of Shawn."

"Neal impersonates Shawn in an attempt to convince people that Shawn is impersonating Neal. Very existential. Any chance of getting Grace there? A public argument between Grace and Shawn would add a certain verisimilitude to the web I'm spinning."

Neal hadn't had as much time as he'd wanted to talk to Angela, and he didn't know if her absence at breakfast before he left Seattle was a bad sign. Getting her to Vegas could give him a second chance to make sure she was going to support his plan. "No promises, but I'll see what I can do. And Mozz?"

"Spinning conspiracy theories takes time, you know. It's like an intricate tapestry, which must be planned with a level of care commensurate with the elaborateness of the desired result. I need to start weaving in this new element."

"I know, but be careful with the timing. I don't want Henry to have enough advance notice to fly out here. Assume he's somewhere along the coast of Washington or Oregon."

Mozzie's sigh was clearly meant to indicate how extremely put upon he felt under this new restriction. "Isn't the point to draw him into this plan of ours?"

"Soon, Mozz. But first I want to make it clear how successful this plan can be. If we get the results we want tonight, he'll be more likely to follow my lead."

After giving Mozzie the time and location of Shawn Legend's upcoming performance, Neal ended the call. He'd ordered breakfast from room service, and had almost three hours free before he needed to call Tricia again.

He didn't expect to find any additional information about Henry's location or accomplice, not until he talked to Angela, who was still out of cell phone range on Mount Rainier. It was time to hit the casinos as Nick Halden, his alias known for gambling. Any money he won would go into the Neal Legend account he'd opened in Austin. If all went according to plan, that account would fund at least part of his tuition at Columbia.