Philadelphia. Tuesday morning. July 6, 2004.

In the morning Neal drove Byron's Jaguar to Philadelphia and went to the public library, where he researched the police departments and crime blotters of the surrounding communities until he found the trend he was looking for. He drove to his targeted area and selected a hotel that wasn't too expensive but where he thought the Jag wouldn't be bothered. After getting a room he called Julia Winslow, confirming that Henry was still in town. "In the next few hours you'll see something surprising in your data feeds. I need Graham to call Henry about it right away. I'm pretty sure he would anyway, but can you watch for it and make sure he sees it as soon as possible?"

Once Julia agreed, Neal prepared to put his plan into action. He locked his wallet and cell phone in the room safe, keeping only a small amount of cash on him, and no ID. Then he had a quick lunch before carrying his guitar to a busy street corner. He sat on the ground, with his fedora upside down beside him. He'd placed a dollar bill in the hat to make it obvious it was meant for money, and collected nearly a hundred bucks before a policewoman arrested him for busking, interrupting his rendition of "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For."

"Do you want to get arrested?" Peter had asked him yesterday. Neal had kept thinking about that question, and he'd decided the answer was: Yes.

Peter would not be happy about the arrest, and that was a bonus, but the true goal here was to make a bold move to get Henry's attention. To avoid getting the FBI's immediate attention and causing Peter to interfere, he told the police that his name was Henry Winslow.

It was a small suburb. They didn't have a full-time person trained to take fingerprints and his crime was too minor to send him to Philadelphia, so they put him in holding without running his prints. An hour later he had a visitor. He was shown to a waiting room by an officer who said, "You're both named Henry Winslow? That's weird, man."

Neal shrugged. "Cousins. Both named for the same guy. Big feud between our parents because our dads each wanted to use the name."

In the waiting room, Henry held Neal's guitar and hat. "They won't file any charges if you surrender the money you collected," he said.

"Fair enough." Neal took back his things and within minutes had completed the paperwork that officially freed him. He followed Henry down a hallway to a parking lot. Once they were outside Neal asked, "You gonna run away again, or are we finally gonna talk?"

Henry unlocked the door of a rust bucket of a car. Maybe twenty years old. How long had it been since Nissan used the name Datsun? "Let's get away from the police surveillance cameras first." He got into the driver's seat and reached over to unlock the passenger door.

Neal put the guitar in the back seat and slid inside. "Where'd you get the car?"

"Mozzie. He put me in contact with some Caffreys at a local craft fair. I borrowed it." His voice was brusque, as if he resented having to talk to Neal.

Neal gave directions to his hotel, watching Henry with a mixture of elation at finally getting him to appear and trepidation at his cousin's obvious dark mood. It was a short drive, so he waited to start talking until they were at the hotel.

Inside the hotel room, he flipped the lock and then Neal asked, "Why have you been avoiding me?" But he'd barely finished the question before an incensed Henry turned on him.

"What the hell were you thinking? Getting arrested, while using my name? The last couple months I've been doing everything I can to keep Dad focused on me so he won't go after you or Mom. And you blow it all! Tomorrow he'll be here and find out it was you masquerading as me. He'll think it's Las Vegas all over again. And if he can't find me, he'll decide to head to New York and take his anger out on you."

"Then we know where he'll be, and we sic the FBI on him. Sounds like we can finally arrest him, thanks to my plan."

"Your plan to get yourself killed!"

"At least I have a plan with a chance of success. You've been out running around for a couple of months now and what do you have to show for it?"

Henry lunged at Neal and pinned him against the wall. "I've kept you safe. All of you. Why can't you stay out of my way and appreciate it, instead of bumbling into the middle of things?"

It was difficult to talk with Henry's arm across his throat but Neal said, "You think you're protecting us. But you're hurting us." Usually the pain was emotional, but right at the moment Henry seemed on the verge of doing physical harm. It was tempting to shove Henry away, but Neal knew he needed to de-escalate the situation instead. "You're shutting me out."

With a sound of pure frustration, Henry backed off and turned away. "Can't you just stay out of it?"

"I can help. I have a solution, if you'd just listen for once."

Henry narrowed his eyes and paced the room. "I know what I'm doing."

"I used to think so. Now I'm not so sure." Neal sank into a chair, reflecting on a scene that had flashed through his mind moments ago when he'd been tempted to start a shoving match. Not a memory, but a realization of what might have been. If the two of them had grown up together, he could picture them as young teens, getting on each other's nerves and getting into a fight, rolling on the ground trying to hit each other until their parents separated them. But they'd skipped that phase and had to act like adults now, even if each of them was itching to take a swing at the other.

That flash of a possible past led to one of a possible future, where they were so mad at each other that even after stopping Robert, they avoided each other and rarely spoke for years. No way was Neal letting that happen.

The first step was calming down, keeping both of them from saying things they would regret. That meant temporarily changing the subject.

"Columbia accepted me."

Henry stopped pacing and stared at Neal.

"You don't have to look so shocked."

"I'm not. I'm..." Henry shook his head as if too clear it. "I'm glad. You deserve it."

"I wanted you to be one of the first to know, but it's been nearly impossible to reach you. I've told Peter and El. Then I told your mom since it had been her idea to apply, and she told Angela and our grandparents."

A ghost of a smile crossed Henry's face. "Dor and Dressa must be thrilled. I remember how excited they were when I was accepted."

It was Neal's turn to look surprised. "But you went to UT."

"Yeah. I needed to get away, further away than New York. It worked for a while. Until I was twenty I thought I was safe."

"Listen, I know you asked me to keep that stuff a secret, but I think it's tied to how Robert is staying informed and tracking you. If I could tell Peter –"

"No!" Henry snapped.

"Okay," said Neal in a tone he might use to soothe a wild animal. "There are other ways."

Henry took a deep breath, appearing determined to calm down and meet Neal halfway in this attempt to have a normal conversation. He sat on the edge of the bed, across from Neal, and took a long look at his cousin. "What the hell happened to your hair?"

Neal explained what Sara had done and added, "You should have seen it on Sunday. It's actually faded a lot since then."

A smile flitted across Henry's face again. "So you and Sara. I was right. I knew I should get the two of you together. Sending you both to volunteer at the same runaway shelter was a stroke of genius." The smile returned to stay. "Oh yeah, look at you, man. You got it bad. I totally rock."

"She is pretty amazing, but I don't think you can take credit for that." Neal realized he was grinning and stopped as he moved toward a more serious subject. "You're juggling a lot of stuff right now. Tracking Robert while evading him. Keeping him away from everyone else. The Masterson con. You aren't... You aren't using, are you?"

"Do I look like I'm using?"

Neal had been looking for signs of drug use, but hadn't seen any. "Not right now, but I need to know how desperate you are."

Henry looked away and took a ragged breath. "It's been tempting, the last week especially. This game of cat and mouse with Robert is so evenly matched. I need to get an edge somehow." He met Neal's eyes. "Each time I wanted to track a dealer down, I'd hear your voice, that angry teen telling me drugs were a deal breaker."

"They are."

"Yeah, well, I guess I still don't want to disappoint you, because I couldn't go through with it."

Taking a small step toward what he really wanted to discuss, Neal said, "Vegas was the first time I performed with Angela on stage. She's better than either of us."

"Yeah."

"She wants it more than we do." Neal watched realization dawn on Henry's face and added, "She could go pro, if we don't ruin her chances."

"The Masterson con," Henry said. "She agreed to it. She wanted to help."

"And if it goes south it could mean the end of any career in music."

"And if it succeeds it could give her a massive boost. We have to get this right."

"I've been working on that. Mozz has done amazing things with the website and our online presence. He's manipulating fan and industry forums, and he's receiving a lot of requests for appearances. We're getting close to what you wanted in a fraction of the time you expected. We could wrap this up in time for Angela to start classes in the fall."

"And you," Henry pointed out. "You'll want to focus on school, too."

"Yeah, sure."

"What is it?"

Why did Henry have to be so damned perceptive? "It's expensive. I took the entrance exams too late to be eligible for a scholarship, and I don't have enough work history to qualify for a loan. The chances I can afford to go this year are moving backward from slim to none."

Henry frowned over this new puzzle. "There must be a way."

"One challenge at a time. First we wrap up the Masterson con. Then we deal with Robert. College comes after that."

"You mean put Robert on hold when things heat up with Masterson?"

"If Masterson offers Urban Legend a contract, we won't have a lot of time inside their company to get the evidence we need. They'll want us to move on to recording and performing rather than hanging around their office. We can't be distracted by Robert." He pinned Henry with a grave gaze he'd learned from Peter. "I know how to slip information to his accomplice. With your help and Mozzie's, I'm sending Robert to Alaska."

"How?"

"We'll put word out that you're going to Seattle. We'll plant clues there that take him to a charter plane outfit, make him think you've gone to a small town in Alaska."

"Why would I go to Alaska?" Henry protested.

"That's exactly what Robert will be asking himself. There aren't direct commercial flights to this town. His options are to fly into Fairbanks and drive three days, or charter a flight from Seattle. If he decides on the first option, we've got him out of the way at least seven days. There's six days of driving round trip, and a day or more spent in the town looking for you. Plus the flights to and from Fairbanks eat up a lot of time. And that's assuming he manages to elude the FBI. Our chances of catching him are high because the Bureau can monitor the flights."

"Making it more likely he'd charter a flight, because he knows the Bureau and Win-Win are watching the data from the major airlines."

"If he takes the charter, we hit the jackpot. A former colleague of Mozzie's who's gone mostly straight contracts as a pilot there. He'll take the assignment to fly Robert to Alaska. Robert doesn't know anything about planes, right?"

Henry nodded.

"The pilot will pretend there's a mechanical issue, and he'll take the plane down, making an emergency landing on a small island he knows. The only way in and out is by floatplane or boat. There's no cell reception, and he'll claim the plane's radio was damaged so they can barely get out a distress call and can't get messages from Robert's accomplice. The Coast Guard will be dispatched to rescue them, but it takes several days to sail out there to pick them up, and then they have to sail back. They could easily be gone two weeks. More if there's bad weather."

"And Robert will be too seasick on the boat to make trouble."

"We can wrap up the Masterson con and then be on hand when Robert lands to apprehend him."

"This pilot friend is willing to sacrifice his plane? You said only floatplanes can leave the island."

"His insurance will cover most of the loss. For the reward money Win-Win is offering to catch Robert, it's worth it."

Henry looked sharply at Neal. "But you should get a share of it. It could pay for a big chunk of your tuition."

"We have to promise the pilot the full amount. Anyway, FBI employees aren't allowed to collect rewards for apprehending criminals."

"That sucks," Henry said.

"Forget about the money for a minute. Can you admit that my plan will work?"

Henry nodded reluctantly. "Still feels weird though, to be following your lead."

"It's my turn to be the big brother and come to the rescue. I like it. Maybe being the hero suits me."

"You can have a turn, but don't think I'm giving up the big brother role. I'm too used to it. I considered looking after you to be my job for a long time. I can't just shut that off."

"As long as I don't have to be the victim. I had enough of that as a kid. How about we try being partners from here on?" Neal suggested.

"We'll see."

It was less than Neal wanted, but as much of a concession as he expected to get at this stage. Once he finished showing Henry how capable he was, he'd push for more. "You really think Robert will come here? We could set a trap and finally capture him."

"As fast as I got there to arrange your release, probably not. It wouldn't occur to him that one of us would get arrested on purpose, and that means he'll assume we're in a panic and we'll clear out as soon as possible. Wait. You didn't reserve this room under my name, did you?"

"I used Neal Legend. The Bureau's checking on my known aliases on this trip, and I wanted to slip the leash for this."

"You're feeling chained? That doesn't bode well."

Having gotten a full eight hours sleep last night for the first time in too long, Neal had started to think much more clearly about what Peter had said in Atlantic City, not to mention what he'd learned in Baltimore. It all pointed to Peter using the Bureau's resources to track Neal much more closely than felt comfortable. "I'll deal with that when I'm back in New York." Not wanting Henry to dwell on the subject, Neal brought up something else. "Why didn't you tell me I was born in Baltimore?"

"Because you weren't? Why would you have been born in Baltimore? Your parents lived in D.C."

"Julia said it was Baltimore. She said she was there when I was born."

Henry frowned. "She wouldn't be mistaken about something like that. What would your mom have been doing in Baltimore? Seems like she'd want to stay home when she was reaching her due date, be near her doctor." He paused. "I'll ask Mom."

"You finally going to talk to her?"

"Yeah. I need to apologize for not letting her know I was leaving, and not getting in touch to let her know I'm okay. It didn't seem like such a big deal at the time, especially since I didn't let myself think about anything but Robert and Masterson. But if my actions drove you to getting yourself arrested, I hate to think what she's gone through."

"Will it be safe?"

"Pops can arrange a meeting someplace without Robert finding out."

"You wanna return that piece-of-shit car and come up to New York with me? We could tell Peter about our plan to send Robert to Alaska."

Henry became very still. "Don't tell him about it. Not yet."

"What? C'mon. Peter's been doing this stuff longer than either of us. He might actually improve on the plan, you know. In fact we should run it by Graham, too. They'll want to coordinate resources for watching for Robert and making the capture."

Henry toed off his shoes and moved back on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "What did you think in Seattle, when Robert meekly followed the FBI agents outside?"

"I was surprised he didn't fight them and go out shooting," Neal said automatically.

"Same here. I've run through every scenario I can imagine, and it almost always ends with a shootout." He rubbed his face. "We're not planning his arrest. We're planning his death."

Neal took a sharp breath. "You can't know that. They'll aim to wound him."

"He'll keep shooting as long as he's breathing. They'll have to take a kill shot to stop him from hurting everyone in the vicinity." Henry closed his eyes. "They can't arrest him in a crowded place like an airport. It has to be at the end of your con, when he gets off the boat."

As much as Neal disliked Robert, he felt a stab of pain for what Henry had been going through, imagining these scenarios. He finally understood why his cousin had been avoiding the people closest to him. Talking about this – actually admitting it out loud – must be excruciating. That realization made Neal even more determined to wrap up the Masterson con first; he didn't think a grieving Henry could pull off the Shawn Legend act. Or he'd disappear into Shawn to avoid the grief and it would be impossible to get Henry back. "You want to be there when it happens – when he dies."

Henry nodded and opened his eyes. "I hate what he's done, what he's doing, but he's my dad. I want to say goodbye. That's not going to happen if we give the FBI a lot of notice of what we're doing."

"Does Graham know?"

"Yeah. He's reached the same conclusion. Robert's his son. He wants to be there to say goodbye. I can tell Pops about the plan, get his help setting it up. But don't tell anyone at the FBI, please."

"I get it. I'll keep a lid on it as long as I can. But how about using Mozz? We need him to plant the clues pointing to Alaska. He's totally off Robert's radar."

Henry cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'll talk to him about it when I return the car. Probably not safe for me to contact you directly until Robert's taken the bait, but we can communicate through Mozzie for the short term." He put his shoes back on and stood up. "You got transportation home?"

Neal also came to his feet. He dangled a key chain. "Jaguar."

Henry smiled. It didn't convey actual happiness, but Neal appreciated the effort. "That's..." He paused. "Is your safe ringing?"

Neal rushed to open the safe. He'd been preoccupied with Henry and had forgotten to retrieve his phone. It was Peter calling. "Yeah?" he said moments before the call could go to voicemail. He felt a breeze and looked up as the hotel room door closed. Henry was gone. By the time Neal reached the door, the rust bucket was pulling out of the parking lot. "Damn it!"