New York City, White Collar Division. Thursday morning. February 19, 2004.

For the second morning in a row, Peter looked down from his office to see Neal arrive moments before the day's briefing was supposed to start. And he wore a fedora again, dropping the hat and coat at his desk before rushing upstairs to the conference room.

At the end of the briefing, Peter dismissed everyone not working on the Adler case. Closing the door, Peter turned to face Tricia, Jones and Neal. "What did your cousin say, Neal?"

Neal looked up blankly. "Hmm?"

Peter stopped on his way back to the conference table. "What did Henry say when you asked him to bring his grandfather's sailboat to New York?"

"Oh." Neal looked into his coffee cup for a moment, and then met Peter's eyes again. It was rare to see him looking embarrassed. "I didn't get to talk to him. You want me to call him now?"

Peter saw his surprise mirrored on the faces of Tricia and Jones. Neal might still have a lot to learn about working at the FBI, but he never dropped the ball on a case. "Anything wrong?" Peter asked, feigning nonchalance as he took a seat.

Neal hesitated. With uncharacteristic uncertainty he said, "June's daughters and their families were over last night. I got distracted."

An unpleasant thought ran through Peter's mind. Is this how Neal behaves when he tries to lie to his father figure? But he simply said, "Fine. Go ahead and give Henry a call. We should find out if we need to line up another option for surveillance on the Enscombe estate. Jones, get your laptop. I know it's a longshot since we just sent the message to Highbury late yesterday afternoon, but I want us monitoring the Nick Halden email account for a response."

With Neal and Jones both out of the room, Peter turned his attention to Tricia. "If I had to guess what would make Neal behave this oddly, I'd say it's his ex-girlfriend. She was a low priority to the Bureau and dropped off our radar after we recovered what she stole on New Year's Eve. But she's clearly a player in this case, and could make things difficult for us if she's manipulating Neal. Would you look into Kate, see where she's living, what she's been up to? I think it's time to pay more attention to her."

"I'm on it," Tricia promised. She went down to her desk to start her research. Jones returned with his laptop, and was signing into the Halden email account when Neal returned.

He shrugged as he stepped back into the room. "I got voice mail. Henry's probably working a case. He usually gets back to me within a few hours."

Before Peter could respond, Jones said, "We got a bite!" Peter and Neal both moved to look at the computer screen.

"They responded first thing in the morning," Peter noted as Jones opened the email. It invited Nick Halden to stop by the Highbury Manhattan location at 11:30am to talk to a consultant and to stay for lunch.

"That's barely enough time to get the van in place. I can make some calls, get the surveillance equipment reserved to monitor Neal," Jones offered.

Peter hated to lose momentum on a case, but he had to ask, "Are you up to this, Neal?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You tell me. You've been distracted all morning. We can't afford to have this case go sideways on us. If you need time to get your head back in the game, then let's tell Highbury to reschedule."

Neal shook his head. "I'm fine. I can do this," he said with the eagerness Peter expected to hear when the kid had a chance to go undercover.

Maybe he'd overreacted. Neal would tell him if something was wrong, wouldn't he? "Make those calls, Jones."

###

"And here is our library," Wendy Bates said, leading Neal into a room with several computers and shelves of reference books. "It's a great place to update your resume and research companies."

Like the rest of the Highbury facilities, there was a mix of modern, high tech amenities with an old-world club feel -- leather chairs, Persian rugs on the floors, wood paneling.

Fifteen minutes into the tour, Wendy had barely let Neal get a word in. Now, in the empty library, Neal took advantage of her pause for breath. "You saw my resume. Does it need updating?"

"Well, Mr. Halden –"

"Nick, please."

The blue-eyed blonde nodded. She was a few years older than Neal, and wore the navy blue suit and pale blue shirt that seemed to be a uniform at Highbury. "As you like. Your resume does a good job of describing your past, Nick. But a great resume also looks to the future. I'd add a statement at the top describing your objective – something that tells a recruiter what you're looking to do next."

"What if I'm not sure what I want to do next?"

"Part of my role as a career consultant is to help you explore your options and discover what appeals to you." She moved out of the library. "And now the last stop on the tour is our dining room. I hope you'll join me for lunch so we can talk about how Highbury could enhance your career."

"How could I turn that down?" Neal asked as they entered the dining room. "Lunch smells amazing." Aware of the fact that his watch was transmitting their conversation to the van, he added, "I love a good steak." Peter was probably eating a deviled ham sandwich right now.

"Our menu is limited, but the highest quality. This way, Nick. We have a number of quiet alcoves perfect for private conversation while we dine."

After an efficient waitress took their order, Neal said, "If you don't mind my asking, how did Highbury get my name? I'd never heard of you before I got the email invitations."

"When Adler Financial Management collapsed last year, we had an influx of former employees seeking our help. They provided the names and contact information of colleagues who might also need our services. You'll find many Adler alum among our satisfied clients. In fact, you're likely to see several familiar faces at our events. An important part of the Highbury culture is maintaining your network after you find a job." She could have kept going, Neal knew, but she paused when a man approached their table. "Nick, I'd like you to meet my boss, Isaac Dixon. Isaac is one of the co-founders of Highbury Professional Connections. Isaac, Nick Halden is a former employee of Adler Financial Management."

"Another one?" Isaac said. In his late thirties, he had sandy blond hair in a buzz cut and brown eyes. "Say what you will about Vincent Adler, he recruited some excellent people."

"Will you join us?" Neal asked. He had a hunch Isaac could provide more insight than Wendy could into what the FBI wanted to know about Highbury.

"You don't have to ask me twice," Isaac said. He gave his order to an observant waitress who saw him take a seat. "Tell me what you've been doing since working for Adler."

Neal described the two jobs Peter had helped him add to his resume. "The frustrating thing is that there are jobs out there, things I'm interested in and I know I could do, but no one wants to take a chance on me. It seems like they're afraid that since I worked for a crook, I must be one, too. Everything I've done since Adler fled the country has been contract work, short-term stuff."

"You're not alone. I hear a lot of that from Adler's former team."

Neal flashed one of his most winning smiles at Isaac. "It's good to know that. Wendy was just telling me you got my name from former Adler employees. Who are some of the people you've helped?"

"It's not our practice to give out client names to non-members," Isaac said.

"I understand, but I'd like to talk to some of them about their experiences here. I'd feel better about joining Highbury if you could provide a few names as references."

In the end, Neal got three names out of Isaac Dixon. All were people who had worked closely with Adler. Thinking about what they had in common, Neal said, "Then you've probably worked with Gilbert Goddard, too."

A calculating look crossed Isaac's face before he could suppress it. In casual tones he said, "I've heard the name, but he isn't a member. A number of people have suggested he'd be a great addition to our network."

Neal nodded. "It would be good to reconnect with Gil. It's been a few months since I've talked to him."

The look crossed Isaac's face again. "You've talked to him since Adler's company folded?"

"I've run into him a few times. That looks wonderful, thank you," Neal said to the waitress who delivered his steak. He took the conversation down the path of cuisine, while pondering Isaac's reactions. Was Highbury recruiting former Adler employees hoping to get to Gil Goddard?

At the end of the meal, Isaac and Wendy made their pitch for joining Highbury. Neal reminded them that he wanted to talk to his former colleagues, but Wendy insisted he take a folder of paperwork. "Of course you can complete the application and payment online, too. I understand being cautious, Nick, but the longer you wait, the longer until you find the job that's perfect for you. There are so many great opportunities right now. I'd hate for you to hesitate and miss out on your dream job. If you can talk to your friends about us tonight, you could join us at our Long Island retreat this weekend."

###

In the van, Peter was annoyed and impressed by his consultant. The extravagant praise of the fabulous meal was annoying, even though the playfulness of it reassured Peter that whatever had been bothering Neal wasn't interfering with his ability to do the job. Getting the names of Adler employees who had joined the club was impressive.

Equally impressive was getting to talk to Isaac Dixon. In the earlier investigation they had rarely been able to talk to Dixon or to anyone at his level. Dixon had only given the FBI access to representatives like Wendy Bates, who did seem to be legitimate career counselors and who acted convincingly puzzled by the Bureau's allegations.

Today Dixon was doing a hard sell on getting Neal to Enscombe that weekend, saying, "I can't emphasize enough the value our members get out of their initiation at our retreat. We make sure you meet a wide range of members and advisors who can help with your career."

Peter expected Neal to take the impulsive route, accepting the invitation and then claiming he'd have to skip the therapy session he'd planned for Saturday. Already Peter was composing the speech he'd give Neal, ordering him to tell Highbury that he'd have to postpone. They'd invent an excuse for not being able to attend, maybe another commitment Nick had forgotten.

It was something of shock to hear Neal saying, "I'm sorry, but I have another commitment this weekend. It can't be rescheduled."

"The retreat's open all week," Dixon said. "We have a constant round of events every evening, with recreation available during the day. Why don't you join us on Monday?"

Neal sighed. "The thing is, I'm pretty sure I need to attend a friend's funeral early next week. They don't expect him to live more than a day or two. After that, I'll need your retreat. But I can't make any firm commitments yet."

After a brief pause, Wendy Bates offered her condolences, and said she'd be in touch with Neal early next week to see how he was doing.

"Byron," Peter said on an exhale as he heard Neal say his goodbyes. "That's what's been bothering Neal since yesterday. I assumed it was Kate. Damn it, why didn't he say something?"

"He was telling the truth about a dying friend?" Tricia asked.

Peter nodded. There had been something heartbreakingly calm in Neal's voice when he mentioned the funeral. It was the shock of the newly bereaved. Peter remembered hearing it in his mother's voice a couple of years ago when she'd gotten the news that her father had passed away. "That's why June's daughters were at the house last night, and why he was too distracted to call Henry. It all fits. I should have put it together before this."

Tricia removed her headset. "Don't be too hard on yourself. Potentially reopening the Adler case is a massive undertaking. You've had a lot on your mind this week."

A few minutes later, they heard a knock on the doors to the van, and Peter let Neal inside.

Neal looked surprised to see Tricia. "Where's Jones?" he asked as he sat beside her.

Peter took Neal's watch and deactivated the listening device. "He got a lead on the attorney who drafted the lease of Enscombe, and I told him to follow up on it. Neal, why didn't you tell me about Byron?"

"I almost did." Neal shrugged. "But it was a relief to escape from it at work. If no one knows, I don't have to talk about it. It still keeps jumping into my mind, but at least once in a while it disappears and I have a moment of normalcy." Neal ran his hands through his hair. "That's selfish, isn't it?"

"It's human," corrected Peter, who was increasingly glad that he'd pushed for Neal to get therapy. More than ever, the kid needed someone to talk to, and this emotional stuff wasn't Peter's strength. "Do you need to take some time off?"

"June said I should save that for the day of the funeral. And I'm glad to have the distraction of the case. It's..." Neal trailed off when his cell phone vibrated. "It's Henry." When Peter nodded, Neal answered, told Henry who was with him, and put the phone on speaker. "Can we use the boat?"

"When do you need it?" Henry asked.

"Probably the last half of next week," Peter said.

"That works. Pops had plans for the weekend, but after that we can be on our way."

"Wait," Neal said. "Why is your grandfather going along? You told me you sailed it alone when you were fifteen."

"Well, it is his boat, and I just got the cast removed from my arm."

"And?" Neal prompted. "What didn't you tell me about the time you sailed the boat alone?"

"There may have been an incident with a sandbar that I neglected to mention. Regardless, for a trip this long, in the kind of weather we get this time of year, sailing alone isn't recommended."

"But your grandfather, of all people?" Neal said. "Doesn't Graham Winslow hate the FBI?"

"If I want Winston-Winslow and the FBI to start getting along, I need to convince some of the older generation that this can actually work. His opinion will sway a lot of people, and there's nothing like being part of a hands-on investigation to make Pops happy. By the way, Peter, that makes this an official service Win-Win is providing the FBI. You'll have to sign a standard contract and pay us."

"I understood Graham is retired from Win-Win," Peter objected.

"He's not involved in day-to-day operations, but he's still on the board of directors. And I'll have to turn down other work to help you with this case. Win-Win will expect compensation for my time."

"Fine. Send the contract. I'll take it through the channels for approval today." Peter rolled his eyes, but noticed Neal's grin. Maybe the kid was right. Keeping him busy and distracted might be the best thing for him. They said goodbye to Henry and Peter dove into the next question he had for Neal. "You kept mentioning Gil Goddard when you were talking to Dixon. Why?"

"Everyone Dixon mentioned as clients of Highbury reported directly to Adler and had significant responsibility. Gilbert was a member of that group. In fact, the few times Adler took a day off, he left Gil in charge. And each time I mentioned him, Dixon had this look of frustration. I think Highbury is offering its services to former Adler employees in order to find Gil."

Peter asked Tricia for the Adler file. He found an organization chart and examined it. "Goddard was the corporate accountant. That's not exactly who I'd expect to be left in charge of the company. And I remember he wasn't the slick salesman type like the rest of Adler's top executives. Can you bring up our report on Goddard's interview with the FBI?"

Tricia found the report in the FBI files and said, "Goddard was cleared after his initial interview. He was never brought back for further questioning." She scrolled down and read further. "Our file attributes the interview and recommendation to drop Goddard from our radar to Agent Hitchum. I want to ask him for more detail, because his report definitely leaves something to be desired."

"Do that," said Peter. "Neal, what else can you tell us about Goddard?"

"You're right that he wasn't the slick, self-promoting type that Adler usually preferred. For the most part he recruited a young, high-energy team. Gil was in his fifties, the oldest member of the inner retinue. He was quiet, easy to overlook, but smart and trusted by Adler. If I wanted to find Adler, or Adler's money, I'd start with Gil."

Peter leaned back in his chair. "We're talking about a networking club for job seekers, using their connections to reassemble Adler's team, and possibly drugging them to get information. Does Highbury really think they can find Adler and his money ahead of the FBI?"

"It's been more than six months since the last time our investigation was in the news," Tricia said. "They may think we've given up. What if Highbury somehow discovered he's the real owner of Enscombe? They would think they have a lead that the FBI doesn't."

"Then it's a race to find Adler before they do," Neal added.

"My gut's telling me we're missing some big pieces to this puzzle, but we have a solid start. Tricia, talk to Hitchum and add researching Gil Goddard to your list." Peter stood, as much as he could in the confines of the van. "Let's get back to the office."

"There's one more thing I should tell you," Neal said.

Peter paused on his way to the front of the van. "What's that?"

"I noticed a bulletin board at the entrance to the Highbury kitchen. One of the notices said they're looking for staff at Enscombe. Waiters and bartenders."

"We already tried sending Jones undercover as a bartender," Tricia protested. "Their background checks were too thorough."

Neal's smile was wicked. "Oh, the person I have in mind won't have that problem, and he's an expert on alcohol and bartending. If anyone can learn what Highbury's up to and be trusted to distract them while I crack a safe, it's Mozzie."