After hours, the K-9 unit had performed a more thorough search of various areas within the school grounds and still come up empty-handed.

He and Tony had instigated follow-up interviews with some friends of Michael Willis-students Mr. Hernandez had named as possible contacts who might know more. But their answers were too vague to be of any help.

Aidan couldn't shake the feeling that whoever was behind this network were watching from the sidelines, one step ahead of them.

One hour later, he parked his SUV outside the Youth Center and entered the brick building's glass front entry. A counter stood before him with another heavy glass door to the side. An older lady, her jet-black hair streaked with gray, greeted him with a smile. "Hey there, how can we help you?"

"My name's Sean Gallagher." His fake identity rolled off his tongue. It was a skill that had helped him keep his cover more than once. "I'm here to meet Mercy Jones."

"You're here to see Miss Mercy?" a young voice piped up from behind the lady. He spied three little girls, maybe around five years old, staring up at him with huge eyes. One wore a bright green tutu over her pink dress, and her dark brown hair was caught in twists tied with pink and yellow ribbons. "You her boyfriend?"

He felt his mouth twitch, but was spared answering as the woman behind the desk cut in. "Aisha, don't you be asking too many questions. Help me hand over the sign in sheet."

Aisha moved up to the desk, the lure of being an assistant receptionist quashing her need to grill Aiden. Her two friends stepped closer with her.

"I'm Gloria, one of the volunteers here. I'll need your driver's license for ID." The woman slid a pen across the desk toward Aiden and nodded to Aisha, who pushed the clipboard with a sign-in sheet in Aiden's direction. "You'll have to excuse the kids. They love Mercy, especially when she reads to them during story time. Anything related to her instantly becomes their business."

"No problem." He grinned as he passed over the fake ID, one of many he'd used in the course of his career undercover.

"He's really tall and big. Like Thor." A blonde child, wearing a tiara with plastic rubies, whispered to her friends.

"He doesn't have blond hair, silly," the third girl, her hair covered in a bright pink wig, admonished.

"Oh, yeah," the blonde murmured. "Maybe he's Loki?"

"But Loki's a bad dude." Aisha glanced back at Aiden, this time with a narrowed gaze.

Aiden had stared down some tough customers in his day, but there was something unnerving about being scrutinized by these little girls.

Gloria rolled her eyes. "Okay, you three, leave the man alone. Go back to the dress-up box and make yourselves into Disney princesses like you promised me ten minutes ago." As the kids ran off shouting who was going to be which princess, Gloria chuckled. "Just between you and me, I kinda like Loki."

"Me too, Gloria." Aidan smiled as the woman handed back his license and buzzed him through to the main part of the center. He glanced around what looked like a huge meeting room with offices off to one side. Mercy walked out of one office two doors down, followed by a tall, African-American teenager. Isaac. The kid's head was shaved and the stud in his ear glinted under the light directly above. His jeans and black t-shirt were clean, if not new, same with his sneakers. He balanced a basketball between his arm and his hip with an easy nonchalance, hinting this was a common occurrence.

Mercy's face brightened when she spied him walking toward her. "Hey, Sean."

"Mercy." He kept his smile in place, even as he silently cursed at the sound of his assumed name coming from her lips.

Christ, what was wrong with him? Hiding his true identity had never been a problem before when undercover. But then he'd never slept with a woman connected with a case before-even someone as loosely connected to this case as Mercy.

Isaac's assessing stare locked with Aidan's as they came to stand a few feet apart.

"Hey." Aidan gave a chin lift.

"Hey." The teenager rolled the ball over his hip before catching it in both hands in front of him.

"Isaac's just been correcting my basketball lingo." Mercy nudged the kid with her elbow, a move avoided with ease by the young man. "Apparently, that thing ten feet in the air is called a basketball hoop, not a ring."

Aidan raised his eyebrows at her. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Her gaze shone with amusement. "He wouldn't kid me on something so important."

"She asked if I could get the ball to spin around on the ring before it fell in." Isaac glanced down at Mercy, a look of pity on his face. "I couldn't risk the chance she'd say something like that in public again."

He liked the kid's sense of humor. "Good thing you stepped in." Truly.

Mercy jammed her hands on her hips. "Maybe I should just leave you guys to your sporting pursuits and not infect you with my nerdiness."

Make that mock outrage, judging by the tremor of laughter in her voice.

"Smart idea, slick." Aidan winked at Mercy before nodding to Isaac. "I saw a court at the back as I drove in. Feel like shooting some hoops?"

"Sure." Isaac shrugged, maintaining the required level of teenage indifference when invited to do something by an adult. He headed toward the doorway at the end of the corridor.

"I'm leaving early; the bride needs help with her outfit." Mercy moved to touch his arm, but remembered they weren't alone and pulled her hand back. "If I don't see you, I'll be in touch."

"I'll call you tomorrow afternoon. Give you enough time recuperate from this evening's shenanigans," he smirked, "or post bail-whichever applies."

The sound of her laughter stayed with him until the door leading to the back of the center closed behind him.

Isaac was already under one of the hoops, but he didn't shoot. In fact, he didn't move at all as he stood there staring back at Aidan, the ball held loose in his hands in front of him.

Seemed like the kid had something to say.

"What's on your mind, Isaac?" Aidan stood a few feet away, his feet apart, arms at his side, ready to catch the ball anytime.

"Why are you doing this?" He raised his chin, as if daring Aidan to answer with anything but the truth.

So there would be no easing into the getting-to-know-you stage.

"Meeting you?" Aidan shrugged. "Miss Jones asked me to. You know that."

"Yeah, but what do you hope to get out of it?" Isaac threw the ball-hard-at Aidan.

He caught the missile, aimed, and shot the ball directly into the basket. Aiden turned back to Isaac. The boy blinked, and the hard set of his features slackened at the proof Aidan wasn't fazed by his tough-guy act.

The ball bounced four times before Aidan strolled over to pick it up. "I get to see what it is about you Miss Jones thinks is worth not only her time, but mine too." He stepped closer. "I get to see if you can live up to the faith she has in you." He threw the ball to Isaac, who stared at him a few seconds before aiming his shot.

But Aidan wasn't finished yet. Just as Isaac was about to shoot, he said, "It's life-changing, having someone believe you matter."

Isaac's throw hit the backboard and bounced near Aidan, who snatched the ball up and then spun it in his hands.

The teenager shuffled his feet, his gaze skirting over the court, anywhere but Aidan's face.

Ice broken.

Aidan had achieved his aim of putting the kid off guard enough to be heard and not dismissed out of hand. Now he needed to capitalize on that with more honesty and directness. "Here it is, Isaac. Miss Jones and I have an agreement. She tutors one of my players, and I hang out with you and shoot some hoops or talk over a soda or whatever you want." He shrugged and walked a few feet to the left, lining up his shot. "You can walk away now, and I would have fulfilled my end of the bargain. Or you can respect the fact she went to this trouble to get us together and see what happens." He glanced at Isaac. "Either way, my plan isn't to spoil your day." Facing back toward the basket, he went to shoot.

"Best of five." Isaac said just as Aidan threw the ball, which bounced-dammit-off the basket.

Aidan huffed a laugh. Kudos to the kid.

He grinned as Isaac caught the ball and dribbled on the three-point line. The kid was handing him an opening, and Aidan wasn't going to pass up the chance.

"Make it seven."

He didn't miss the flicker of...curiosity, maybe, in Isaac's gaze. He waved for the teenager to go first. It was time to shoot some hoops.

Thirty minutes later, Aidan's ass had been well and truly kicked. Sweat matted his hair to his forehead. The kid could shoot-and hustle-on the court.

So why wasn't someone with such talent more involved with sports at school?

Aidan held up his hands in defeat. "You win. Let's get a couple of drinks and sit for a moment."

Isaac nodded, his mouth kicking up at one end in what seemed-for him-to equal a smile.

They headed back into the center, where Aidan purchased two bottles of water from the drink machine. He glanced around as a group of martial arts students started to file into the main auditorium. "Want to sit here or outside?"

"Outside." Isaac turned, headed out, and sat on top of a picnic table next to the basketball court.

Aidan joined him, his feet on the bench seat. He sucked back a long swallow of the icy-cold water. "You've got a great game, Isaac. Ran me all over the court."

"Thanks." The teenager sipped his water and kept his gaze toward the court. "You're pretty fit for a teacher." He grinned, a real show of joy that creased his cheeks.

"Thanks, I think." Aidan chuckled. "Do you play for Macarthur High? I've haven't seen you around the gym." Basketball tryouts weren't until November, but the players used the gym in the off-season.

Isaac made a disgusted sound in his throat. "You're kidding?"

Aidan raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Isaac stared at Aidan, first in what looked like shock and then defiance as the boy's gaze hardened. "I'm not the kind of kid the school wants on their team."

"What kind of kid do you think you are?" Was that the problem here? Isaac didn't think he was good enough? If so, he was way off the mark. And who was putting those ideas in his head?

"I'm trouble," Isaac blew out a harsh breath. "My record says as much. Coach Parker keeps kids like me off of the teams to make sure their players stay sweet." He shook his head at Aidan's confused stare. "I want to play football, not basketball. I shoot hoops to stay fit."

Problem is, those kids with the drugs, they come from broken homes, tough neighborhoods. That's the life they lead.

Aidan gritted his teeth as Coach Parker's words echoed in his head. "Isaac-"

"No, don't say anything," Isaac broke in. "That's how people see me. How they see my friend Michael." The plastic bottle of water crackled under the force of Isaac's grip. "And look where he ended up."

Aidan's body stilled at the mention of the boy charged with supplying drugs to Heather Raynard. "Michael's your friend?" If Isaac hadn't been so angry, Aidan guessed he'd have kept Michael out of the conversation, let alone assumed that Aidan knew who Michael was in the first place.

Aidan needed to tread softly, but no way could he pass up an opportunity to seek information.

"He's not a bad guy, just stupid. He wouldn't hurt Heather. If they hadn't-" Isaac broke off, his gaze flicking at Aidan before skirting away.

Careful, Shaw.

Aidan kept his tone casual, not forgetting Isaac might have information that could place him in danger. "Isaac, if you know something that could help your friend, you should tell the police or maybe one of the counselors here, If you're scared or worried about what you know, you could tell me, and I could go with you to the cops."

The boy glanced to the heavens before turning his incredulous gaze on Aidan. "Oh, sure, and then everything will turn out okay. Heather will wake up, and Michael will get out of juvie."

Isaac hadn't admitted knowing anything. Only that whatever he said wouldn't make any difference.

Aidan deepened his voice. "I didn't say that." Isaac's gaze lowered under Aidan's commanding stare. "Michael needs to answer for his actions, but if he was forced by others in some way, then the authorities need to know. That could definitely affect the outcome for your friend."

A muscle in Isaac's jaw flexed. "I don't know anything." He twisted off the cap on the water bottle and took a long gulp.

"Then there's nothing you can do to help your friend since trying to fix something on your own would be too dangerous." Aidan didn't miss the tightening of Isaac's jaw. That hit home. Good. He needed to push Isaac into confiding in him. "But you can influence how others see you."

The student narrowed his gaze. "How's that?"

"Have a bit more faith in yourself. You've kept your record clean and raised your grades at school since you were released. I'm betting not everyone thought that was possible."

Isaac shrugged and dropped his gaze to the bottle in his hands. "Some kids were assholes. A few teachers too."

"I bet." Teenagers could be cruel little shits. And some adults were close-minded, branding a kid with a past as damaged goods, no matter what changes the kid made. "But you proved them wrong. Plus, Miss Jones is in your corner. She tells me your mom loves you, wants the best for you. Having that support is great. You've just got to remember one thing."

Isaac glanced across at Aidan. "What's that?"

"Each of us is responsible for our actions, including the fact we can't blame anyone but ourselves when we screw up." Aidan stepped off the picnic table. "Or when we don't try to right a wrong."

Isaac stared at him a few beats before dropping his gaze to his feet.

Enough heavy talk. Aidan needed to finish their first meeting on a lighter note and give the boy an opportunity to think over what they'd discussed. "Come on, finish your water so I can retrieve some pride and beat you in a best of fifteen."

Isaac smirked. "Yeah, right." He slugged down another mouthful of water before reaching for the ball next to him.

He seemed like a good kid. Confused, angry, definitely troubled, and while he and Aidan hadn't swapped childhood stories or sung campfire songs, Isaac sharing his anger was better than sullen indifference.

And the student knew more about the drugs than he had shared.

Was Isaac's reticence because he was scared to provide details? Aidan's gut tensed at another possibility. God forbid, was the student part of the network himself?

The boy's worry for his friend hinted to Aidan that-for now-it was the first option. Either way, Aidan had a target to focus on. Whether Isaac became an informant or a suspect remained to be seen.

He hoped for Mercy's sake he didn't have to take the kid down in the process.

6.