New York. Thursday morning. July 1, 2004.

After the late-night call from Mozzie about the lead on Henry's accomplice, Neal had logged on to the Urban Legend Analytics site to see how much exposure their conspiracy was getting. He was impressed by the numbers, and followed some of the links out to the sites with the most activity.

Sam Weston had done a good job describing Tuesday night's impromptu music lesson and performance with Neal Legend and Theo Guy. The implied tie between Urban Legend and the much more famous Local Devastation was great, and it got better. Their young student's mom must have seen the story on the music store's site and pulled some strings even without Neal's request, because The New York Times' site also reported the story.

Speculation about whether Neal Legend was still alive was rampant, with more and more people falling on the side of him being a real, live, separate person from Shawn. Now the debate was around whether Urban Legend had been better with Shawn and Neal or with Shawn and Grace. A comment on the Urban Legend site claimed there was a rumor that if all three performed together it would signal the end of the world, and Neal was certain Henry had posted that as a tip of the hat to how out-of-control Mozzie's conspiracy was likely to become.

He stayed up much too late reading what people were saying about Urban Legend, and as a result he was bleary-eyed when Peter called early in the morning with the request to set up a meeting with Mozzie. Since he said it was related to a possible lead on Henry, Neal didn't waste time expressing shock at Peter's suggestion to involve Mozz.

The weather was good and outdoor meets were easier to secure, so Mozzie suggested a rendezvous in a park. It was closer to Riverside Drive than to the Federal Building, and when Neal called with the location, Peter recommended Neal skip the morning briefing. He'd be more productive by staying with Mozz at the site of the meet, keeping him calm enough to be coherent when Peter arrived.

Spending time with "the suits" still made Mozzie edgy, and it didn't help that Neal had been too sleepy to ask Peter what he wanted from Mozz. Neal distracted his friend with questions about the Urban Legend con. "I noticed on our site that we have an agent listed now. Louis Renault. Isn't that a character from Casablanca?"

Mozzie nodded, his eyes still darting back and forth as he watched for Peter to arrive. "The chief of police, ironically. His cynicism seemed fitting. I found I identified with him the most."

Neal did a double take. "You're our agent?"

"I'm the one monitoring the group's email address and answering questions. Now that you're receiving requests for appearances, you need an agent. I'm also your webmaster, under the name Ugarte."

It had been a while since Neal had seen Casablanca, but eventually it came back to him. "The pickpocket."

"There are vultures everywhere," Mozzie paraphrased, in a fair imitation of actor Peter Lorre. Before Neal could circle back around to the topic of Urban Legend having an email address and requests for appearances, Mozz stood and said, "Suit."

Neal looked up to see Peter. He took another sip of coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in soon. It was not good that he hadn't seen Peter approach.

"Vultures everywhere," Peter repeated. "Casablanca? That's one both El and I love."

Neal stared down at his coffee cup. How much had Peter heard? They hadn't said the words Urban Legend while he was walking up, right?

Peter sat down on a park bench next to Neal. Mozzie remained standing. He reminded Neal of a gull, hanging around in hopes of snatching a piece of bread, but ready to fly away if they proved unfriendly. "Yesterday Elizabeth spoke to Neal's aunt Noelle," Peter said.

"Elizabeth," Mozzie repeated. "Mrs. Suit."

"My wife, yes. Noelle mentioned that there's an extended network of Caffrey relatives who travel around the country in caravans, making a living by selling crafts or offering entertainment at fairs and festivals throughout the year. She spent a summer traveling with them when she was a teen. She told Henry about it, but said she never mentioned it to Robert. There's a possibility Henry gets around with these caravans, maybe spends a few days with them occasionally." He looked at Neal. "Did he ever talk about these caravans when you were traveling together?"

Neal shook his head. There had been a handful of music festivals Urban Legend attended where Henry seemed to run into a lot of people he knew, but as far as he could tell it hadn't been planned, and Henry had seemed eager to get away. It made sense now. He hadn't wanted them to realize he was Shawn Legend. Chances were he'd avoid them now for the same reasons, but the caravans could make a good emergency escape.

Returning his attention to Mozzie, Peter said, "I get the impression the Caffrey Caravan doesn't pay taxes on their earnings, and wouldn't welcome the attention of an FBI agent. You might be more likely to win their trust. They're supposed to be at a craft fair outside Philadelphia this weekend. Any chance you could join them?"

Mozzie nodded. "They sound like kindred spirits. I've always wanted to have a Thoreau phase; this could be my chance to 'live deliberately'."

Neal smiled as Mozzie waxed eloquently about the clarity that could be gained from spending time in the wilderness and living off the land. "Just how far outside of Philadelphia is this fair?" he asked Peter in an undertone.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Let's put it this way: According to their website, there are buses running to the fair every hour from downtown, and a traveling carnival will be next door."

"Not exactly Walden Pond," Neal agreed. "Just as well. A real wilderness would send him into withdrawal."

###

Neal was hiding something. Peter was certain of that. He could mask the yawns and the way he desperately clutched his cup of coffee, but there was no disguising the fact that he wasn't as sharp as usual this morning. In addition, there was that expression of worry when he noticed Peter had arrived, which seemed to indicate he'd been discussing something with Mozzie that he didn't want Peter to know about.

As they got into Peter's car, he wondered if Neal's tiredness and distraction were related to his ideas for paying for graduate school. Now that Hughes had confirmed the Bureau wouldn't pay, Peter was at a loss for how Neal could get that much money. In other circumstances he might have talked to El about cosigning a loan, but they'd just signed the lease for her new office space and were working on an application for a small business loan to cover Burke Premiere Events' start-up costs. That debt on top of their mortgage stretched their credit as far as it would go.

Peter was certain Neal wouldn't do anything illegal to pay for school, but there were any number of ill-advised options out there. It could be as innocuous as a second job, maybe something slightly embarrassing like being a singing telegram. It could be something the FBI frowned on, like working as a bounty hunter; that kind of work presented temptations to use FBI resources for non-case work, and could get a person fired.

Peter had intended to talk to Neal about his conversation with Hughes as he drove to the office, but he was distracted with guesses about what Neal might do as a second job. Bellhop? Bartender? He was in good shape; maybe he'd work at a gym. Or as an exotic dancer. He had a nice voice, maybe he could do voiceovers. Or answer calls at one of those 900 number lines for phony psychics or sex chats.

He glanced over at Neal, as if somehow he might be able to guess by looking at him. But unless Neal was participating in a sleep study, he wasn't going to get any answers. The kid was even more tired than Peter had guessed. His eyes were sliding shut, and Peter let him rest.

###

Neal blinked. Last thing he remembered they were about half way to the Federal Building, and now they were parked. There would be no hiding the fact he'd fallen asleep. Everything he was doing as Neal Legend in the evenings was taking its toll, and he couldn't tell Peter about it. He was supposed to be playing Find the Lady, keeping the FBI focused on his search for Henry and distracting them from the Masterson con.

He kept expecting a comment from Peter about his unplanned nap, but instead the agent stared straight ahead, frowning. "Peter? Is something wrong?"

He turned his attention toward Neal. "I'm worried about how you plan to pay for Columbia."

Did Peter think he'd turn to crime to get the money? Neal thought Peter trusted him more than that now, but the secrets he was keeping would have consequences.

"You asked me to let you deal with it, and I want to respect that, but it's hard to ignore the evidence right in front of my eyes. Whatever it is you're doing, you're wearing yourself out, and it will get even worse when you're in classes on top of everything else." Peter paused, seeming to struggle with what to say or how to say it. He stared out the windshield again. "FBI agents are inquisitive by nature, and I have a hard time letting go of puzzles."

Neal nodded. He'd seen the way Peter attacked cases and crossword puzzles. He needed to be careful not to turn the Masterson con into a puzzle for Peter.

"I want to insist you tell me how you're going to get the money." He looked back at Neal, who had to force himself not to squirm under that laser focus. "I keep thinking of how to ask. More than that, how to coerce you into telling me. That combination of being an agent and a dad is turning me into a control freak. I probably lean that way at the best of times, but more so now." He shook his head. "And that's how we describe Robert, especially in relation to Henry. He's a control freak. Am I any better than he is? Is this how it all started for him?"

After a moment of shock, Neal reached forward, putting a hand on Peter's nearest arm. "You can't be serious. Peter, you're nothing like Robert." He leaned back again. "You have no idea what he's like."

"No I don't. Usually I can understand the people we're investigating in our cases, but I can't figure out Robert. What drives a man to have that kind of rage toward his own son? If I don't understand, I can't really say it won't happen to me."

Neal swallowed back a few potential replies, because he'd promised to keep Henry's secrets. If he could just find his cousin, maybe he could convince him to share parts of his experiences with Peter. Maybe that could give Peter the insight he needed to solve this case. "You're nothing like him. I'm sorry, Peter. It's my fault you ever heard of Robert and got involved in this case. If it weren't for me, you'd never have been exposed to –"

"Stop," Peter interrupted. "This is not your fault. Robert is a criminal, and it's my job to stop criminals. Even if I'd never met you, we would have become aware of his crimes. Any evil he brings into people's lives is his own fault and no one else's."

"I won't blame myself, if you stop thinking you might be like him," Neal offered.

"That's a deal," Peter agreed. "One more thing. I talked to Hughes yesterday. I've been racking my brain to understand why sometimes you're willing to confide in me and sometimes you want to avoid me. He told me about your conversation."

Neal struggled to keep a poker face. Peter hadn't known?

"His conversation with you – he did it with the best intentions. And honestly, he's impressed with your work and wants you to continue doing exactly what you've been doing the last six months. But his approaching you on the topic of favoritism was not how these things are supposed to be handled. Some of that's on me. There were things I should have told him, but didn't. He can't do his job effectively when I keep him in the dark. And the same applies with you and me. If something's bothering you, Neal, you have to tell me. We could have gotten past this nearly two weeks ago if you'd let me know what Hughes said to you."

"I thought you knew."

"Yeah, I get that. But you should have checked. And for the record, if I thought there was a problem with how you do your job or how you act at work, I'd tell you in person. Don't assume anyone else speaks for me. Got that?"

Neal considered it a moment. "I do, but he had a good point. If I'm making the other team members jealous, that can hurt your position."

"No, Neal. If I'm making other team members jealous of you, then I need to know so that I can do something about it. Now that Hughes has explained what he observed at the party, I'm taking action to reassure team members who think I'm biased." Peter opened his car door. "Now let's get back to work."

As Neal followed Peter into the office, he was glad to have the issue out in the open. But he was also determined to keep his own behavior strictly professional. He made sure he worked a full day and didn't try to leave early heading into his vacation. However, calling it a vacation was kind of a joke. He'd be working on the Masterson con or looking for Henry the entire time.

He'd thought he could at least take it easy Thursday evening, but got a call in the afternoon from Theo Guy asking if one of the Legend brothers could fill in at a concert in New Jersey that night, replacing a backup singer who had food poisoning. For that concert he used the lessons he'd learned from Bess the makeup artist, and called himself Shawn. He wanted to avoid having Neal Legend being associated with the northeast, and therefore switched between identities.

Miranda had come through with opportunities for Friday and Saturday. He would sing some of her new songs at clubs in Miami and Atlanta, and at Mozzie's urging he agreed to an interview with an Atlanta radio station to generate buzz for his performance in that city.

###

Friday morning El had some unexpected time on her hands. The clients who were supposed to meet with her about planning an event needed to reschedule at the last minute, so she made a cup of tea and then settled in front of her laptop. She browsed The New York Times site, especially hitting the softer news. She wanted ideas for venues, food and entertainment for upcoming events.

The name Urban Legend caught her attention. That was the group her old college friend had told her about. From what she'd read a few days ago, she'd thought they weren't very well known yet. Seeing them mentioned on this site was a surprise.

The article described a music lesson given by one of the Legends with a former member of Local Devastation. It was a nice, feel-good story. It also changed El's thinking about Urban Legend. If they were working with Theo Guy, that sounded like they were much more established than she'd thought. Probably not a group she could afford for one of her events. The article mentioned speculation that the Legend brothers might reunite. If the lead singer could mend his differences with Grace Legend, the group might transform from a duo to a trio, and there seemed to be interest in hearing all three perform together. After listening to snippets of songs by the brothers and then by Shawn and Grace, El was among those interested in hearing the three perform together. However, some experts cautioned that it might not be a good idea; there were links to discussions in industry forums about other groups who had tried to reintegrate old members, and the success rate was low.

There were more posts now in music fan forums about experiences at Urban Legend performances. Someone described getting lessons from Shawn and Neal Legend several years ago. Someone else described Grace disrupting a performance by Shawn in Las Vegas in the last week. El wondered if that was really a surprise, or a planned event to get attention. Either way, it sounded like it had been entertaining, and entertainment is what people wanted from musicians in the end.

The speculation that the younger brother had died was giving way to newer posts that said he had been very ill and had stopped performing a few years ago for health reasons. Their site claimed that the older brother had protected his privacy by spreading rumors of his death, while in reality he had been recovering after an intense series of treatments for a brain tumor, and now was able to perform again.

The rumors that Shawn and Neal had always been the same person were quieting down. There were many first-hand accounts of people who had seen the brothers perform together several years ago. A recording of both of them singing was reportedly being analyzed to prove it was two different voices and not one person singing both parts. Apparently they were good at imitating each other, however.

When El finished reading, she was convinced that Shawn and Neal had been two different people at first, but was less certain that the younger brother was performing now. For all the buzz about them both making appearances recently, there were no reliable accounts of both of them being seen together since they'd split in 2001. It was possible that the older brother was pretending to be both of them now, but why? And if they were both performing, why didn't they appear together to quash the rumors?

A reminder popped up for her next client meeting. She shook her head and shut down her browser. It was obvious. The rumors led to publicity. Whoever was handling their site and PR was a genius. A twisted genius, perhaps, but they knew what they were doing. She'd never heard of a group without an album getting this much attention. Surely a record company would snap them up while they were hot.

She wished her business could gain as much attention as Urban Legend was getting. As she prepared for her clients, she wondered if she could find out who was the group's publicist. Hiring a publicist wasn't something she had the budget for, but maybe they could at least give her some tips in return for event planning services. Maybe Urban Legend would want to host an event? Perhaps they'd need to throw a party soon to announce a record deal. She made a mental note to look for contact information on their site.

###

On his drive to work Friday morning, Peter kept thinking about how Neal would pay for Columbia. Were there scholarships he could apply for? And why hadn't he thought to ask that yesterday?

He also couldn't stop comparing himself to Robert. A real dad would help his kid find a way to finance his education. He'd bet Robert had a hand in paying for Henry's tuition, even if it had been indirectly through the divorce settlements. Of course, the Winslows had the advantage of being wealthy. Robert probably just wrote a check and didn't even have to think about it.

After the morning briefing, Jones told Peter, "Took a while, but I finally got access to the NSA cell phone data again. I thought I'd start by looking through records over the last week to establish a baseline I can confirm based on his travel itinerary, and then monitor his current movements."

Tracking Neal by his cell phone records was something they had done the first couple of months Neal worked for the Bureau. Hiring an ex-thief and con artist had been a risk, one Peter had countered by having Jones kill two birds with one stone. They used Neal as a test case for the NSA's new program of collecting cell phone records, learning how to search and use the data in case they needed it someday for tracking a criminal. By classifying their activity as a test of their ability to use the data, they hadn't needed to get a warrant. They were resuming that test now, and once again Peter didn't need detailed reports of Neal's activity. He trusted Jones to tell him if he saw anything that caused concern.

As frequently as Neal had checked in during his travels in Seattle and Las Vegas, Jones wouldn't learn much looking at the past data but would be able to confirm its accuracy. "Go ahead. Get familiar with the system again so we'll be ready to track him if he runs into trouble."

Jones promised to provide a status report in the afternoon. Peter thanked him calmly, but inwardly he was cursing. Why hadn't he arranged check ins for Neal's time off? Sure, it was a vacation, and traveling under an alias Neal should be safe, but Peter didn't want to underestimate the threat posed by Robert.

Furthermore, he hadn't asked which alias Neal was traveling under, but he could figure that out. When Neal had exchanged a confession for immunity, he had surrendered his fake IDs. Peter had approved Neal raiding that supply yesterday. All he had to do was check to see which one was missing and he'd know what name to track.

Oddly, two IDs were missing. George Donnelly had to be the one he was traveling under. That was a newer alias Robert didn't know. But why had Neal taken the Nick Halden ID? He'd used that for the Highbury op earlier this year, and they all knew Robert was aware of that alias.

All of a sudden, Peter's radar was pinging. Neal was up to something. Probably something reckless. That pushed his buttons both as an agent and as a dad. He didn't care if he was being a control freak; he was going to make sure Neal didn't try to take on Robert alone. Peter went down to Jones' desk, where the junior agent had NSA cell phone records on his computer screen. "Put that on the back burner. First, I want you to look up any recent activity for two of Neal's aliases. Get me his travel reservations, and set up monitoring to warn you if there's any new activity."

"What's going on?" Jones asked.

"I don't know yet," Peter answered, "but we're going to find out."