Chapter 12

TWELVE

Aidan opened the door to the conference room and found Isabella standing by the window, staring out across the freeway at the National Cemetery. Her silver and brown curls were pulled into a low ponytail, her dark suit sharp, her arms folded, back straight, and head held high. A different woman than the one who'd flown two red-eyes, then a third long-haul to make it home to her son, only to trudge into holding with coffee stains on her uniform and find Aidan there waiting. The last person she'd wanted to see right then, even though he'd warned her he would wait. He'd kept his word and hadn't taken her Get out that night personally.

Would today's reception be any different? Fifty-fifty shot. "Isabella."

She turned from the window and didn't react with anger. A good sign. Low-level worry pinched her features, not the thrumming, exhausted kind of Saturday night, but rather the typical parent kind Aidan was used to seeing from his siblings, especially when any of them tried to get their kids to dress up. "Angel behaving?" she asked.

"He's fine. Grumbling about the suit." A small smile; Aidan counted it another win. "We wanted to talk with you a moment."

"We?"

Jamie entered the room behind him. "Izzy, this is my husband, Jamie. Jamie, this is Isabella."

"Ma'am, Jameson Walker, it's a pleasure to meet you." The extended hand, the wide easy smile, the accent always seemed to charm folks. Or maybe it was the compassion and sincerity wrapped around every word Jamie spoke. "I know it's been some time, but I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." She withdrew her hand and folded her arms back across her chest. Her voice was polite but neutral, an underlying chill that was so unlike her that Aidan almost did a double take. "Are you with the FBI too?"

"No, ma'am. I coach basketball. But I used to be an agent, and I help out on cases from time to time." Aidan didn't think Isabella knew about Jamie's involvement in Tom's case. There'd been no trial afterward, only the aftermath. And she hadn't recognized Jamie's name. While her son had been keeping tabs on Aidan, it seemed Isabella really had tried to move on and leave the past behind. The realization hurt, but if it was what she'd needed, Aidan couldn't begrudge her. He'd done the same. And this morning, that disconnect could work in their favor.

Aidan gestured toward the table. "We think Jamie may be able to help with Angel's case, if you're willing to listen." Her dark gaze bore into his; Aidan didn't look away. "Please, Izzy. We just want to get Angel out of this." The stare down continued another few tension-filled moments until Izzy moved to the seat at the head of the table. Aidan claimed the chair to her right, Jamie on his other side. "Did Tricia explain to you why we're meeting here instead of at the courthouse?"

"She said she may be able to get Angel a deal."

" If he cooperates," Aidan said. "He hasn't told us who gave him the stolen goods to deliver or who he was supposed to deliver them to. Cargo theft is a top priority for the US Attorneys' Office and for the Bureau, especially here in LA. Either piece of info will lead them to the targets they're really after and get Angel out of the felony charge."

"But he won't talk." She sighed and ran a hand over her head, nails raking through the curls. "Welcome to my hell."

From Aidan's other side, Jamie rose, grabbed one of the bottles of water, and set it beside Izzy. "Has he been closed off since his dad's death?"

"Not exactly. It tore him up for sure, but he was better for a while after we moved here." She cracked the bottle of water open and took a long swallow. "He came out to me as gay when he was ten. It was the first time I saw him really breathe since Tom died. Really smile." She smiled too, confirming everything Aidan had ever known about her. Warm, loyal, accepting, she wanted whatever was best for her son, would accept him with open arms under any circumstances, same as she had her friends and Tom. It was a shame her family hadn't returned the favor.

"But then your family turned their backs on you," Jamie said, following his train of thought.

She nodded, then took another swallow before continuing. "We became tighter. The two of us were a unit. I had his back, and he had mine. But about a year ago, something changed. He said less, kept more to himself."

"Were there changes at school too? Who he hangs out with there?"

"He has a small group of friends, other queer kids like him, but now that you mention it, I began seeing less of them. But I was also working more." She fixed her gaze on the water bottle label as she cut through it with a nail. Her voice trembled when she spoke again. "I shouldn't have?—"

Aidan covered her other hand. "Izzy, don't blame yourself. You were working to give him a future."

She continued to tear through the strip of paper but also didn't move her other hand out from under Aidan's. "I don't want what happened, what his dad did, what my family did, to ever hold him back."

"Any other changes in behavior?" Jamie asked.

"He stopped working on the truck."

Aidan's hand squeezed around hers. "The truck?"

"The one you found for Tom in La Honda."

"His Christmas present, before . . ."

She turned the hand under Aidan's over, clasping his back. "It was the only one of Tom's I didn't sell. It was the one worth the least..."

"Because it needed the most work."

"Figured it would keep Angel busy the longest."

There was a long moment of silence, a remembrance and a truce reached, before Izzy withdrew her hand. When she spoke again, some of the earlier chill had left her voice. "If you can help him, please do."

"Would it be okay if I talked to him?" Jamie asked. "I lost my dad when I was a little younger than him, and I know a thing or two about cars. "

She stopped cutting through the paper. "You think he'll tell you what you need to know?"

"I think I'm a new face, someone he can relate to, and maybe that gets us more information that can help get him a deal."

She nodded. "Okay, thank you."

"I'd like to get a list of those friends too," Aidan said, then, anticipating her objection, added, "We won't question anyone without letting you know, but we can see if they intersect with the other people involved in the case."

"All right."

Standing, Jamie grabbed a pad of paper off the credenza and handed it to Izzy. She scribbled a short list, tore off the sheet, and handed it to Aidan.

"Hang tight," he said, rising next to Jamie. "Let us see what we can do."

He turned to leave, but Izzy's hand around his wrist stopped him. "Thank you. You didn't have to help?—"

"Yeah, I did, Isabella. I made a promise the day he was born and the day he was christened. I should've never turned my back on that."

She gazed up at him with dark eyes, full of the same regret Aidan had been drowning in the past two days. "I didn't give you much choice."

"Gabe and Tom didn't give either of us any choice. But we have one now." He squeezed her hand. "We do what's best for Angel."

She squeezed back with a nod. "Thank you."

Aidan followed Jamie out the door, pulling it shut behind them, and found Rick waiting in the hallway. "I may have something," he said. "Or maybe someone. Beverly Kildare. She's a foster kid in the home of Darien White's sister and a student at Angel's school. Couple years behind him."

Aidan checked the list Izzy had given him. Not on there. But worth an ask. He opened the conference room door again. "Izzy?"

She looked up from her phone. "Yeah?"

"Does Angel know a Beverly Kildare?"

"Sure, that's Bev, his Spanish tutor."

Aidan couldn't stop his brow from lifting, and Izzy's answering laugh felt good. Like the laugh that Christmas Day when Aidan had hauled the rusted-out chassis of a '66 Chevy truck into their yard. "Boy can speak it, the Spanish you and I know, but ask him to write it for class, and it's a disaster."

"I'll make sure to ask him to write his statement in Spanish," he said with a wink before closing the door and turning back to Rick and Jamie. "Bev's his Spanish tutor."

"I'll see what else I can find on her," Rick said, already heading for the bullpen.

"This is good, Irish." Jamie smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "Now I've got more to work with. Let's go see what I can find out from Angel."