"The summer after we were separated, we both ended up at one of those summer-camp things they do for kids in the system. We immediately started making plans to run away together. But, like I said, Drew was a fighter. He got kicked out the second day. I didn't even know about the trouble until he was gone."

"And no one told you anything about him?"

"No more than I've told you. Twenty years of searching, of sticking my name in files and on search boards and registries hasn't found them." The skin on his knuckles alternated white and brown as he flexed and unflexed his clenched fists. "I've had leads, good ones, but they were always dead ends."

And it's killing you. All the things she'd wondered about him now made sense. His chilly reserve. The way he seemed isolated, a man alone.

Collin Grace had been alone most of his life. He'd been a child alone. Now he was a man alone.

To a woman surrounded by the warmth and noise and love of a big family, Collin's situation was not only sad, it was tragic.

"Somewhere out there I have two brothers. I want them back." And then as if the words came out without his permission, he murmured gruffly, "I need to know they're okay."

Of course he needed that. Mia's training clicked through her head. As the oldest of the three boys, he'd been responsible for the others. Or at least, he'd thought he was. Having them taken away without a word left him believing he'd failed them.

Now she understood why he'd been so reluctant to take Mitchell under his wing. He was afraid of failing him, too.

The sudden insight almost brought tears to her eyes.

Mia tilted back her chair and drew in a breath, studying the poster on the far wall. The slogan, Social Work Is Love Made Visible, reminded her why she did what she did. The love of Christ in her, and through her, ministered to people like Collin, to kids like Mitchell. If she could help, she would.

"Twenty years is forever in the social services system. Do you really think I can find them if you haven't had any success?"

"You know the system better than I do. You have access to records that I don't even know exist. Records that I'm not allowed to see."

Warning hackles rose on Mia's back. She tried not to let them show. "You aren't asking me to go into sealed records without permission, are you?"

"Would you?" Dark eyes studied her. He wasn't pressing, just asking.

"No." She'd done that once for her oldest brother, Gabe. The favor had cost her a job she loved and a certain amount of credibility with her peers. The bad decision had also cost her a great deal emotionally and spiritually. God had forgiven her, but she'd always felt as if she'd let Him down. "I will never compromise my professional or my Christian ethics."

Again.

"Okay, then. Do what you can. You still have access to a lot of records, even the unsealed ones. I've looked everywhere I know, but that's the problem. I don't know how to navigate the system the way you would. I can't seem to find much when it comes to child welfare records of twenty years ago."

"Records from back then aren't computerized."

"I finally figured that one out. But where are they?"

"If they exist, they're still in file cabinets somewhere or they could be piled in boxes in a storage warehouse."

"Like police records."

"Exactly." She crumpled the half-dozen Snickers wrappers into a wad, dismayed to have consumed so many.

"Are you willing to try?"

"Are you willing to be Mitchell's CAP? That's what we call adults who volunteer through our Child Advocate Partners Program." She would help Collin in his search no matter what, but Mitch might as well get a good mentor out of the deal.

"What do I have to do?"

"Some initial paperwork. Being a police officer simplifies the procedure since you already have clearances."

"How much is the welfare office involved?"

"You don't like us much, do you?"

He made a face that said he had good reason.

"Things are different now, Collin. We understand things about children today that we didn't know then."

He didn't buy a word of it. "Yeah. Well."

"If I help you and you become Mitch's CAP, you're going to be stuck with me probably more than you want to be."

"As long as it's you. And only you."

Now why did that make her feel so good? "But you think I talk too much."

The corner of his mouth hiked up. "You do."

"But you're willing to sacrifice?"

"Finding my brothers is worth anything."

Ouch. "Sorry. I was teasing, but maybe I shouldn't have. Finding your brothers is serious business."

"No apology necessary." He rose with athletic ease, bringing with him the vague scent of woodsy cologne and starched uniform. "I was teasing, too."

He was? Nice to know he could. "I'll need all the information you can give me about your brothers. Ages, names, dates you can remember, people you remember, places. Any little detail."

From his shirt pocket, he withdrew a small spiral notebook, the kind all cops seemed to carry. "The basics are in here. But I have more information on my computer."

"What kind of information?"

"The research I've done. Names and places I've already eliminated. Group homes, foster parents. I know a lot of places my brothers never were. I just can't find where they are."

He made the admission easily, but Mia read the hopelessness behind such a long and fruitless search. Twenty years was a long time to keep at it. But Collin Grace didn't seem the kind that would ever give up.

And that was exactly the type of person she was, too.

"Everything you've investigated will be useful. Knowing where not to look is just as important as knowing where to look. The files and the computer will be helpful, but we may have to do some legwork as well." Now, why did the prospect of going somewhere with Collin sound so very, very appealing? "People are more comfortable with face-to-face questions about these kinds of things."

"Whatever it takes."

"I can't make promises, but I'll do what I can."

"Fair enough."

"Then I guess we have a deal. Will you go out and talk to Mitchell or do you want me to?"

Reluctance radiated from him in waves, but he'd made a deal and he was the kind of man who would keep it. Wasn't he still trying to keep a promise he'd made when he was ten years old? A man like that didn't back off from responsibility.

"I can contact him tomorrow," she offered.

"We could both tell him now. You know what's involved more than I do."

She shook her head, more disappointed than was wise, considering how little she knew about Collin as a person.

"I'm slammed with extra work tonight. I'll be here until seven at least." And Mitch was a lot more interested in Collin that he was in Mia.

"Too bad," he said. His expression was unreadable as usual so Mia didn't know what to make of his comment. Too bad she couldn't go with him? Or too bad she had so much work to do?

Either way, she watched him turn and stride out of her office and suffered a twinge of regret that she hadn't gone along anyway. She could be dishonest and say she wanted another look at Mitchell's living situation or that she needed to explain the program in more detail. But Mia was not dishonest. Even with herself. She had wanted to spend time with her enigmatic policeman.

And the notion was disturbing to say the least. She hadn't dated anyone in a while. To find her interest piqued by a man who didn't even seem to like her was a real puzzle.

He was a good cop, had a good reputation, and she'd had a sneak peek at the kindness he kept safely hidden. But he also carried a personal history that sometimes meant major emotional issues. Issues that might require counseling and work and, most importantly, healing from God.

And that was the big issue for Mia. Was Collin Grace a believer?

She reached for another Snickers.

Chapter Five.

Sometimes Collin felt as if he spent his life inside a vehicle. He'd driven from Mia's office directly to Mitch's place, only to find the little twerp wasn't there. After driving through the neighborhood, he'd spotted him in a park shooting hoops with three other boys.

When Collin got out of the cruiser, Mitchell passed the ball off and headed toward him. The other boys quickly faded into the twilight and disappeared.

"Why are your friends in such a rush?" Collin leaned against the side of the car and folded his arms, watching the shadowy figures with a mixture of amusement and suspicion.

"You scared them off."

"They have reason to be scared of a cop?"

"Maybe."

Which meant yes in eleven-year-old talk.

"It's getting dark. Come on. I'll take you home."

"Am I in trouble?" Mitch asked, climbing readily into the front seat of the cruiser.

"No more than usual."

Streetlights had come on but made little dent in the shadowy time between day and night. This part of town was a haven for the unsavory. Gang types, thugs, druggies, thieves all came sneaking out like cockroaches as soon as the sun went down. No place at all for a young boy.

Collin had to admit Mia was right about one thing. This kid needed a mentor before he fell into the cesspool that surrounded him. Though he still wasn't sure he wanted to be the one, Collin had begun to feel a certain responsibility toward Mitchell. He hated that, but he did. Who better than him to understand what this kid was going through? And that was all he planned to do. Understand and guide. He wasn't letting the kid get to him.

"Why're you here?" Mitch slouched down into the seat and stared out the window at the passing cars with studied disinterest.

"Miss Carano sent me."

Mitch sat up. "No kidding? You gonna be my CAP?"

So, she'd already prepared the kid for this. How had she known he would agree? He hadn't even known himself.

"What do you think about that?"

The kid hitched a shoulder. "I got plenty of other stuff to do."

"Yeah. Including a lot of community service. At least ten hours at the store where you jacked the stuff. The rest is up to you and me and Miss Carano."

"I guess I could come out to your place. Help with the animals. I'm good at that."

"Up to you." Mitch had to make the decision. Otherwise, he'd only resent Collin's interference.

"Panda probably misses me a lot. She doesn't trust many people."

"With good reason." A lot of people had let the cat-and the kid-down. The cruiser eased to a stop at the light. "You work for me, you'll have to lose the cigarettes."

The denial came fast. "I don't smoke."

One hand draped over the steering wheel, Collin just looked at him, long and steady. The boy's eyes shifted sideways. He swallowed and hitched a shoulder. "How'd you know?"

"I have a nose." The light changed. "Gonna lose them or not?"

"Whatever."

"Your choice."

"Why do you care?"

"The animals at my place depend on me."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"You think about it and let me know which is more important. The animals or the smokes."

Collin slowed and turned into the drive-through of a Mickey D's. "Want a burger?"

He rolled down his window. The smell of hot vegetable oil surrounded the place.