Neal's phone rang. A quick look at the caller ID and he stepped aside to answer it.

"I have a friend who says he met a guy complaining that he'd hired on for a quick snatch and run for a silly family heirloom and ended up a babysitter." Mozzie said.

"You think it's the help that grabbed Amanda?"

"Apparently the guy was drinking and swore he wasn't watching her one more minute until he got paid what was promised. He hadn't signed on for that much trouble."

"Any idea where this guy is?"

Calvor's Bar is where he hangs out. He goes by the nickname AGA."

Neal frowned into space. "Odd nickname. What's it mean?"

"Anything Goes Anytime. I guess he might have exaggerated."

Neal strolled into the bar casually, dressed in a black jacket and jeans. The guy was bald, with a muscle shirt, mustache and a big tattoo on his arm. In spite of the crowd, Neal spotted him easily arguing with another man. Neal's eyes narrowed at the dark skinned fellow. The second man had muscles at least as big as AGA and a gun in his belt. "As his head turned, Neal murmured "Jenkins is here guys."

AGA shoved Jenkins aside, "I don't work for you anymore. You pay me. That's it."

Jenkins pulled something out of his pocket and slammed it into the other man. AGA gasped and collapsed onto a nearby pool table. Jenkins grabbed his wallet back and shoved through the crowd. AGA was holding his side and looking at his hand as Neal kept an eye on Jenkins. "Guys, I think he shanked his partner."

In the van, Peter looked at Jones, wincing. He had a bad feeling about this. "Don't do anything reckless." Peter murmured. Jones stared at him. "Yeah, I know he will," he admitted to the knowing look Jones was giving him.

Neal was between Jenkins and the door. Pretending he didn't see the man, he turned away and stepped so the man had to bump him as he went by. With a casual flick, he slid the GPS watch from his wrist into the man's pocket.

"I think he's following him." Jones noted staring at the GPS.

"I'm going after him." Peter stated, worry lines crowding his brow.

Jones gave him directions over the radio. Peter kept turning and looking, but he didn't see Neal in the crowd. Suddenly the younger man tapped his shoulder. Peter jumped.

"Jones said you were over there!" Peter waved his hand.

"I slipped my watch into Jenkins' pocket."

"Right after he shanked someone?"

Neal pointed. "I see him. Come on."

It was easy to keep him in site. The crowd wouldn't let Jenkins move fast.

"Great. Now...right after he stabbed someone?"

Neal stepped out after him. "If AGA was his only helper, then he might figure it's time to get rid of her. I figured we were out of time." He paused and added, "Hard to believe that this guy is any relation to Davis."

Peter sighed silently as they kept their quarry in view. One thing you couldn't call Neal was a coward. The street wasn't full, but there enough people to keep him from sticking out. Neal ambled past the building he turned into then looked back up, sidled up to the glass door and peered in. A shadow was disappearing up the steps. Ducking in Peter drew his gun and handed the radio to Neal, who murmured the building number into it. Slinking up the stairs, he listened carefully at the landing. Neal paused as the shadow did, watching as a door creaked open.

Neal slid by the wall and as the door started to slam, shoved his hat brim in the crack over the latch. The door stuck, unable to lock. A muffled cry sounded from within. Peter positioned himself by the door, followed by Jones, who appeared suddenly behind them. "FBI! Open up!" They slammed in at the curse from within.

They shot in, catching Jenkins with his hands half in the air, gun pointed in the general direction, but not quite at, the woman cuffed to a bed.

"Drop it!"

Jenkins was snarling in fury. But he dropped the gun, eyes darting to the girl.

"Don't even think about it." Peter swept in and cuffed him. Neal followed them in as soon as there was room, hurrying to the girl and yanking out the gag."

"How are you? Are you... seriously hurt?" His eyes tracked the bruises. She'd obviously been smacked around. Her wrists were red and bleeding from yanking on the cuffs.

Tears were in her eyes. "Davis! Is he okay?"

"He's fine." Peter said, studying the handcuffs. Neal pulled out a pick and started to work on the latches. Peter sighed but didn't comment.

"We found the compass. Is that what he was after?"

She nodded, gulping. "He said he'd hurt Davis if I didn't give it to him. But I wanted assurance if I gave it to him he'd leave him alone. He got mad and he grabbed me. He kept coming in and hitting...threatening me if I didn't tell him where it was. But I figured, if I did, he would kill me anyway...and I hoped since he had me, Davis would already be in protection..."

"You were right. Your family is safe."

"And Jenkins didn't get what he wanted either."

The family reunion was joyous and tearful. Davis was awed by what they found. "A treasure in Mom's Bible?"

"How long has it been in your family?"

"Oh, it was my Great Grandma's. The compass was Great Grandpas. Or Great Great." The boy frowned. "Something like that."

"So they put this aside for a rainy day."

"Make for one fine college education." Peter noted.

"And you won't have to worry about Jenkins coming back. He's going away for a long time."

Neal smiled at them. Davis came over. "Hey. Come over and do some art with us some time."
"I'd like that." Neal hesitated. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How are you so...okay with all this. If I were in your place, I'd be pretty angry."

Davis shrugged. "I was for awhile. Then I realized..." his gaze shifted as if he was staring into space. "I didn't like how it made me feel all cramped inside. It hurt my art. So I just kind of cut him out. All I need to know is, I don't want to be someone who hurts someone. And it helps shape my art. It'll take a while to stop being mad about hurting Amanda though." He frowned. "I want no part of him. Maybe he was different once. But I'll never know."

"You should bottle that and sell it."

The boy grinned. "I do. In my art."

Neal watched as the boy retreated to his family, his own thoughts flitting to his own secret past. Peter came up and put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay? You look like you're miles away."

"Just...it was a strange case."

Peter glanced sideways. "Learn anything?"

"Like what?"

"You know what."

"No I don't."

"You don't have to be what your parents were. You take the best and leave the worst. You said it yourself, it's hard to believe Davis is related to Jenkins."

"Mm. It would help if I was sure what the best and worse in my family was."

"If you know your own best and worse, you can choose between them."

"Maybe. I hope so."

"I know so." Peter paused. "In spite of your hare brained schemes, you can have the life you want Neal."

"Hare brained?" Neal gave him an indignant look, then looked away. At last, Neal glanced at him uncertainly. "Even if the old one keeps chasing after you and trying to catch up?"

Peter studied him. "If you want it bad enough. And if you ever figure out you really don't have to do it alone."

"I know that."

"You tend to go off on your own."

"What, a guy can't need a little privacy now and then?"

"Sure, when he's not getting into mischief."

"Mischief?" Neal stared. "Really? Mischief? Me?"