New York hotel room. Tuesday night. February 24, 2004.

When the meal ended in Graham Winslow's luxury hotel suite, the diners wandered into the massive living area to discuss the case and revelations. Neal watched as Graham cornered Reese Hughes, and Tricia talked to Jones and George Knightley. Henry pulled Peter aside. Neal could guess what they were saying, but he used his cat burglar skills to approach them silently, anyway.

"I know how his mind works. I can talk him out of this," Henry was saying.

"It doesn't mean you should," Peter replied.

"Do you expect me to believe you want Neal to take an assignment this risky? There's no way. Remember, I saw your reaction when that guy tried to hold Neal hostage in January. You couldn't handle it when he was in serious danger."

"Well, it's my job to come up with a plan that mitigates the danger, with protocols in case anything goes wrong. If you can convince Neal to stick to the plan this time, I'll be fine."

Neal took a step closer, and he let the sound of his footstep against the tile be heard. When Henry faced him, Neal said, "You don't think I can do this." Henry tried to reply, but Neal cut him off. "You have this idea of me stuck in your head, where I'm still the semi-innocent, semi-helpless teenager you rescued in Chicago. You're forgetting that I learned a lot of survival skills from you, and a lot from the criminals I worked with. Just once can you stop playing my big brother long enough to let me take the lead?"

"It's not a lack of faith in you. But Peter doesn't know you like I do. He needs to know..." Henry paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "You're one of the least selfish people I've met. That means when it comes to this case, you'll take risks that most people wouldn't. You'll take those risks to close the case, to make people like Peter happy, to prevent Highbury from preying on their clients. You'll tell yourself it's worth it, that all of those things together are more important than your safety. But you don't realize..." He trailed off as Tricia approached.

She looked at the trio warily. "I feel like I'm interrupting something."

"Go ahead," said Neal. "Please."

"Peter, I've been talking to Jones about the latest developments on this case. Now we have two people – Seamus Bickerton and Kate Moreau – who have asked Neal to break into the safe. And each claims to be acting on orders from Adler. Do we believe them both?"

"I see where you're going with this," Peter said. "Based on our profile of him, Adler plans carefully and doesn't waste resources duplicating efforts. Which could imply that either Kate or the lawyer lied about wanting the contents of the safe for Adler. It's likely one of them has a personal interest in what's inside."

"Exactly," Tricia said.

Neal grabbed Henry's arm and led him away while Peter became absorbed in this latest puzzle. "I appreciate the concern," Neal said when they were out of earshot, "but you have to let go of this. I need to prove I can handle undercover work in a case this complex, if we want the Bureau to let me work on your case."

"I'm not taking the Masterson case to the FBI," Henry said. "I can handle it on my own."

"You can't pull it off alone. You need Angela and you need me. And I can't do what you have in mind without the FBI figuring it out and intervening, so you might as well bring them in from the start. Use their resources."

"There has to be another way to convince the FBI to let you help me. Maybe if you took some vacation time when I'm ready to take Masterson down, they wouldn't notice what we're doing until it's too late?" Henry ran his hands through his hair, reminding Neal of where he had picked up that gesture. "I just need a little more time to figure it out."

"Figure it out faster. I used the name Neal Legend on a contract with Theo Guy for a record he's producing. You have time before anyone else sees that contract, but you'd better be ready. It will kick off the rumors you wanted."

"Wait. Does that mean the rehearsal with Ty Merchant happened already and you didn't tell me? I was planning to crash that event."

Neal nodded, and continued to lead Henry away from his objections to Neal going undercover at Highbury. Henry could brag all he wanted about knowing how Neal thought. He sometimes forgot that Neal could get inside his head, too.

But in all honesty, Neal understood Henry's desire to take on Masterson without the FBI or Win-Win getting involved, and he hoped his cousin found a way. Even though Neal trusted Peter and was sometimes shocked at how much he had been willing to share with this father figure, there were some secrets Neal wanted – needed – to keep. Involving the FBI in Henry's schemes brought the threat of exposing one of those secrets: that Neal had withheld one identity in case he ever needed to escape. The knowledge he could still disappear at any time was something Neal treasured. He wasn't ready to give up that security.

###

When Peter wrapped up his discussion with Tricia, he realized Neal and Henry had moved away and were laughing about something. He was considering joining them, when Reese and Graham approached. "Peter, you need to hear this," said his boss.

"I thought Highbury sounded familiar," Graham Winslow said. "I called Win-Win to see what we have on them. First thing I learned is that we do their background checks for new employees."

A piece of the puzzle clicked into place in Peter's mind. "That's how they screened out Jones when we tried to send him undercover last year. We never could figure out how they made him."

Graham looked smug. "No one beats Win-Win when it comes to data. If it's there, we'll find it."

"Tell him the rest," Reese insisted, not bothering to hide the impatience in his voice.

"You heard what I said over dinner about recruitment. People with skills we need are in high demand. Finding the right people can take a long time, and frankly sometimes it's expensive as hell. A couple years back, when Highbury asked us to do background checks for them, they couldn't afford our terms. But we studied their business model and made them a deal. They get our most thorough backgrounds for a fraction of the cost. In return, we get first pick of their clientele. We tell Highbury what we need, and they send the best candidates our way."

"You're in business with Highbury," Peter summarized. "Since you supposedly have data about everything and everyone, how did you not know your own business partners have been blackmailing clients?"

"Whoever's doing it must be smart enough not to blackmail anyone who comes to work for us. We'd know in a heartbeat if someone blackmailed one of our own. But you're right that we keep a close eye on clients and business partners. We stay out of trouble by making sure they stay out of trouble, and we should have seen this." Graham had looked concerned, but then his expression darkened. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Assuming it's true. How do I know you're not making up these allegations against Highbury? Maybe you knew about our connection all along and set up these accusations to put me on the defensive."

"We have compelling evidence," Peter said.

"Not compelling enough to make an arrest."

"Surprisingly, blackmail victims are not eager to go public with the details." Normally Peter tried to be more tactful, but he didn't think tact would work with Graham. Blunt sarcasm was more satisfying, anyway. "The Bureau doesn't like to arrest people only to set them free because we can't get anyone to testify against them. It isn't enough to get sufficient evidence for an arrest. We need to be certain we can get a conviction."

"And those fetters are why you government types burn out. When your time comes and you're ready to go private, give me a call."

"I've already warned you," Reese said, "not to recruit my agents."

"Can't blame a man for trying. If Highbury really is blackmailing people, my team will find out, and they'll find out how we missed it."

"Your team, Pops?" asked Henry. He and Neal had walked over in time to hear Graham's last comment. "Aren't you forgetting that you're retired?"

"Our team," Graham corrected. And then he mumbled something that sounded like whippersnapper. But he looked pleased.

A grinning Neal pointed out that it was getting late, and announced his intention to go home. Before Peter could offer him a ride, Jones spoke up and Neal accepted. Peter followed his team into the elevator, and noticed the change in Neal on the long ride down. He'd hidden it expertly in the hotel suite, but the kid was tired. Peter guessed this wasn't physical exhaustion as much as being worn out by grief. So much had happened today it was hard to believe the funeral had been this afternoon. Peter had to acknowledge that Neal deserved a quiet ride home. He'd be more likely to get that with Jones, because Peter had questions.

Not tonight, he told himself. Don't pester him with questions right now. "Do you need to take tomorrow off?" he asked anyway.

Neal sighed. "No, I need to spend tomorrow getting ready for Nick Halden's trip to Enscombe." He met Peter's eyes and seemed to read his concern. "Hanging around the house being melancholy isn't going to do anyone any good. I need to do something constructive."

Peter nodded. He had one more question on the tip of his tongue, when Jones intervened with, "Peter, you were talking with Hughes when I got the text from the lab. They found traces of a drug in George's blood. It was called..." He grabbed his phone and was looking for the message.

But he didn't have to. George remembered the official, Latin name. It meant nothing to Peter, but it got a reaction from Neal. So much for not asking questions. "Neal, what do you know about this drug?"

The elevator reached its destination and they stepped into the lobby. After they walked past the group of people waiting to go up, Neal answered. "I asked Noelle if drugs used for therapy could be used for the kind of blackmail scheme we're investigating. That's the one she named as the most likely possibility, and its effects match the experience George described. Noelle said it's called Flashback."

"And?" Peter prompted, sensing Neal was holding back.

"And she mentioned that Henry has done some research into it. Tomorrow I'll ask him about how it works and how to fake an overdose if I need to. He's not going to be happy, but he'll tell me what I need to know."

Peter still thought there was more to the story. "Neal, what aren't you telling me about this drug?"

"Look, I'm not a medical expert. Saturday was the one and only time I've heard of Flashback, and I've told you all the facts I know about the drug."

"I'll look into it in the morning," Jones offered. "George can help."

Peter nodded and on the drive back to Brooklyn he told himself he was satisfied. He should be satisfied. Neal said he'd told Peter all of the facts, and Neal had been scrupulously honest with Peter recently. Sure, sometimes he withheld information, but tonight he'd specifically said he wasn't withholding anything.

Wasn't withholding any facts. And facts were all that mattered in a case.

Peter's gut still told him something was off. He ran through it one more time. Noelle told Neal about Flashback. Neal told Peter all of the facts. What else could Noelle have told Neal that was relevant, but wasn't a fact?

Noelle was a psychologist, Peter reminded himself as he made the turn onto his street. Psychology wasn't like the fields he was comfortable with. Unlike accounting, it was filled with emotions, and nuances, and... speculation. He'd bet his next paycheck that Noelle had made some sort of speculation about Flashback that Neal didn't want Peter to be aware of.