Lou was in the pilot seat of a helicopter. WHOP! WHOP! WHOP! The propellers started up, and pretty soon they were turning so fast it was all a blur.

“Okay, kids,” Homer said, shouting over the noise. “It’s time for you to board.”

“Oh no!” Finn cried. “My baseball cap!”

The wind from the propellers had lifted it straight off his head. When he ducked back to reach for it, he was blocked by Homer. “No! You must never, ever walk toward the back of a helicopter. Those blades are going three hundred RPM right now.”

Finn didn’t know what “RPM” meant, but he gathered it was very fast.

“But it’s my most prized possession. It’s practically—” Finn cut himself off. He knew it sounded silly, but his hat felt like a body part. Being without it made him feel strange and empty.

“Sorry, pal,” Homer said, patting Finn’s now naked head. “It’s time to go.”

Finn nodded. At least he’d get to ride in a helicopter. Though, from the looks of it, Molly wasn’t excited. Her face had turned as white as a piece of paper. But letting Hallie Hampton down was much more frightening than a helicopter ride. She gritted her teeth and stepped up into her seat.

Helicopter seat belts were different than car seat belts. There were straps that came down over each of their shoulders and more straps that went around their legs, all buckling into a big middle piece. Homer made sure they were secure before he gave the kids enormous earphones to wear.

“Now you’re all set,” Homer said.

“What?” Finn asked.

Homer lifted one of Finn’s earphones and one of Molly’s, too. “I’ll meet you at the stadium!” he shouted. “It’ll take me a bit longer given traffic at this hour, but you’re in good hands with Lou. Safe travels!”

He hopped out, and pretty soon they could feel the helicopter lifting off the ground. It was like an elevator—a very fast, very loud elevator, rising straight up in the air. Molly’s stomach felt like it had dropped to her sneakers. She was too scared to notice the popping in her ears, and Finn was too excited. They moved forward, flying over the Hudson River. Out the window, New York City looked like a Lego set.

Finn was the first to spot Yankee Stadium. He could see the green grass of the field, the brown dirt of the baselines, and the giant white Yankees logo painted behind home plate. Molly was straining to see what was below, too. She thought she saw some people dressed in yellow. And outside the stadium, she was pretty sure she saw a group of kids in red shirts getting out of a white SUV and running toward the entrance.

“It must be the Feathers!” she said.

“What?” Finn asked.

“THE FEATHERS!” she screeched. But he couldn’t hear her. She could hardly hear herself.

Lou spoke to them through his headset microphone. “Prepare for landing, and hold on tight.”

Molly gripped her seat as the helicopter started its descent. It was like going straight down in an elevator, except way bumpier. They landed far out in center field. Lou turned off the engines, and the twins took off their headsets and tried to undo their complicated seat belts.

Molly banged hers with the heel of her hand. “I can’t get it loose!”

“Hang on,” Lou said. “Those things are locked pretty tight for safety reasons.”

He came around and snapped them open in a jiffy. “C’mon,” Molly called to her brother.

There was a cluster of bright yellow by home plate—people in yellow shirts holding yellow balloons. That could only mean one thing: they were POP Magazine people ready to award the winner.

The twins ran as fast as they could. In the back of Finn’s head, he imagined himself running the bases on this field, the crowd going wild. “PARKER! PARKER! PARKER!” they’d shout. He could hear the commentators over the loudspeaker: “It looks like Finn Parker is going for another home run. Once again, it’s Parker saving the day!”

But that was make-believe. In real life, there was another person shouting: Cleo Feather. “You guys and your friend Hallie Hampton are going down!” she said.

THWAP!

“You see— DOWN!” Cleo said.

“Molly!” Finn cried.

His sister was facedown in the grass, and beside them was the passing sound of laughter as Cleo and her friends ran by.

Finn shook his fist. “Why, you—” he screamed at Cleo’s back.

“No,” Molly said. “There’s no time to be mad, Finn. You need to run. RUN!”

Molly was right. The Feathers were way ahead now. But Finn pressed forward. It was like his Moonwalkers coach always said: “Keep your eye on the prize—home plate.” Finn kept his eyes on home plate and began to sprint. He caught up with Cleo Feather, but try as he might, he couldn’t overtake her. She was matching him stride for stride. When Finn got close enough, he dove for home plate. Cleo skidded to a stop behind him.

A man in a yellow POP Magazine shirt reached down and helped Finn to his feet. “That play could get you signed to the Yankees,” he said.

Finn was nearly breathless, but he managed to pant out, “Thanks.” He bent forward, resting his hands on his knees, waiting for the air to come back into his lungs. He could hear Cleo complaining that it wasn’t fair—Finn and Molly had taken a helicopter.

“The helicopter was fair play,” the man responded.

“I want to talk to whoever is in charge,” Cleo demanded.

“I’m in charge,” a woman replied.

Finn looked up to see a woman with a short spiked hairstyle and a giant camera hanging around her neck. He took a deep breath. “You’re Billie Fischer, aren’t you?”

“The one and only.”

“Wow, it’s really nice to meet you. Your scavenger hunt was great—hard, but great. And we got to go to amazing places.”

“I’ve taken my favorite photos at those places,” Billie said. “That’s why I picked them for this hunt.”

“I can’t believe we won,” Finn told her.

“I’ll just need to see your form to make it official.”

Finn pulled out the team form that was crumpled in the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to Billie.

“Ah,” Billie said as she read. “This is very interesting.”

“What?”

“It seems that you’re not the winner, after all.”

“What?” Finn exclaimed. “Of course I am. I mean, we are. Our team got here first.”

Billie shook her head. “Your team did not,” she said. “It is just you here at the finish line. There are two other team members listed on this form, and—”

“I’m here!” Molly cried, hobbling forward. “Molly Parker.”

“You are still missing your team captain,” Billie Fischer said, glancing at the form. “Hallie Hampton. So that means—”

“We win,” Cleo Feather supplied. She turned to the twins. “Tell Hallie we really missed her today. Not!”

“I lost my Moonwalkers hat for nothing,” Finn said, kicking the dirt.

Molly kicked the ground, too. Her ankle throbbed. Having a twisted ankle would’ve been worth it if they’d won, but now…

“Not so fast,” Billie said to Cleo. “I saw you trip your competitor here. That’s cheating, which is against the rules.”

“I did not,” Cleo said. “It’s just that she’s a total klutz.”

“Pictures don’t lie,” Billie said. “Unfortunately, people sometimes do.” She took the camera off her neck and scrolled through the screen on the back. There was Cleo, foot out to trip Molly. “I imagine that’s not the photo shoot you had in mind.”

Finn couldn’t help smiling.

“So…,” Molly said. “We won, after all?”

“No. Rules are rules,” the man from POP Magazine said. “And we are still waiting for team number three.”

“Those losers?” Cleo asked in disbelief.

“I’d say they are the winners,” Billie Fischer told them.

“You tried your best, kids,” Lou told the twins. “In my book, that counts as good work.”

Homer walked up to the group, and he and Lou exchanged keys—limo keys for helicopter keys.

“We’ve got to head back to meet Miss Hampton at the theater before the curtain goes up,” Lou said.

“You left something important at the Intrepid.” Homer handed Finn his Moonwalkers hat.

Finn put it on his head and felt instantly better—more like himself. Plus, Lou had said the word “work.” Maybe he and Molly had done what they were sent to New York to do, and PET would be waiting by the theater. Finn felt sad for Molly that they’d miss the show and getting Hallie’s autograph.

But it had been a long day, and he was ready to go home.