Juliet wasn't smiling now.

I watched through the glass of the interrogation room as she once again sat across from Mike and Bill Donovan, frowning at the kid, who was slouching lazily in his chair.

Henry was standing next to me, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched every move Juliet made.

It hadn't taken as much convincing as I thought it would to get him to go to the police once we made the connection.

Actually, I didn't have to convince him at all. I just told him we were going and he came, though he spent the entire six minute car ride scowling down at the floor. I could see his mind forcing itself to synthesize the new information, turning it over again and again until it finally made sense. He had to re-think his myopic hatred of the person who had run his son over now…or at least the cold-blooded murder.

Chief Vick had spotted him the moment we walked into the precinct.

"Where the heck--?" she started to demand, coming up to us, but stopped herself from asking the question. I think when she saw the look on his face, she decided she didn't want to know.

We'd told her our theory of the case, and less than twenty minutes later we were watching the interrogation. The Chief wasn't happy about us being there, but she didn't bother trying to talk Henry out of it. She just stood next to us, her eyes fixed intently on the scene on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"Why did we have to come back?" Bill Donovan was asking. "Did you find my car?"

"Not yet," Juliet shook her head, her eyes locking with the sullen-looking teen's. "I just need some more information for my report."

Mike looked up at her, his bushy eyebrows raising slightly as he sat up in his chair. "What information?" he asked, not looking bored anymore.

Suddenly, he looked scared.

"Just some things I need cleared up," she shrugged breezily, though her demeanor and tone were far from friendly anymore. "A few pieces of your story just don't add up."

"What pieces?" he mumbled, leaning forward.

His father's eyes darted from him to Juliet then back again. He knew something was going on, but he didn't know what.

"Well," Juliet continued, leaning back in her chair coolly. "For starters, there's the issue of where you were studying last night."

"What do you mean?" Mike asked, glancing nervously at his father.

I couldn't tell for sure if it was the lighting or if he knew she knew, but his face turned a few shades whiter.

"I mean you said you were at your friend Robert's house when your car was stolen," Juliet told him, standing up. "But I talked to his parents to verify that…just standard procedure. And they said he was studying at your house."

"She's good, Karen," Henry murmured, watching her. "She knows what she's doing."

Karen smiled quietly and nodded. "I know."

His eyes shifted to the teenager again, and I could see his body tensing as the kid sputtered.

Chief Vick must have seen it, too, because she gently patted his arm. "Be patient, Henry. We're going to find him. He's going to be fine."

Her calm, even tone faltered almost imperceptibly on that last sentence, and I could tell she wasn't fully convinced of it herself. Like Henry and I, she was just clinging to that hope.

Mike's dad was frowning at him now, his apprehension growing by the moment. "What is she talking about, Mike?" he asked. "What the hell is going on? Where were you last night?"

Mike sunk down into his chair as Juliet stood over him, her normally bright eyes hardening. "What happened, Mike?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing!" Mike insisted, his voice cracking. "The car--!"

"It wasn't really stolen, was it?" she pressed on. "And you weren't really studying, either. Where were you?"

"Studying!"

"I have an officer on his way to pick up your friend," she informed him. "When he gets here, what do you think he's going to say? Do you think he's really going to back you up for long?"

Mike was completely white now. His mouth opened in silent protest, but he could actually find the words.

Juliet sat down again, leaning across the table.

Suddenly, she wasn't stern anymore. Her voice was gentle and urgent. "Mike…it was an accident, wasn't it?" she asked quietly.

"What was an accident?" his dad demanded, standing up. "What the hell is going on?"

She looked up at him. "Your son was involved in a car crash last night. We found some beer cans at the scene…we think he might of have been drinking. We think he ditched the car somewhere and lied about it being stolen so he wouldn't get in trouble."

"Drinking…?" his dad repeated. "Damn it, Mike! Did you go to that party last night? I told you--!"

"I didn't--!"

"We're not interested in the party!" Juliet snapped. "We just want to know what happened to the guy you hit!"

His dad froze, all the blood draining from his face. He fell into the chair again, stunned. "You hit someone?"

"No!" Mike insisted weakly, his hands trembling now. "I didn't--!"

"Mike," Juliet said softly. "His name is Shawn. The guy on the motorcycle. He works for the police…and he's my friend. I just want to know what happened to him. Tell me. Where is he?"

Mike shook his head fiercely, though he knew there was no point denying it anymore. "I--!"

"Mike, if you did something stupid, we can help you. But if you don't tell us where he is and he dies…"

She left the thought hanging there.

Nothing else needed to be said.

Mike looked at his father, then back at her.

"I didn't mean to do it," he mumbled finally, looking down at the table. "I didn't mean to do it…"