As Josh turned onto the New Jersey Turnpike, he caught Chang giving him a troubled look. The back of his neck prickled with heat and his body ached with the memory of their morning together.

She turned to watch the road ahead, her profile beautiful even when etched with gravitas. Josh told himself not to fall for her, that there were way too many complications.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Just worried. We should have flown.”

“We’re halfway there. By the time we’d arranged a plane and gotten into the air … not to mention the time it would’ve taken to drive from Newark … it didn’t make any sense. Besides, with a plane it would’ve been damned difficult to conceal our movements.” He frowned. “We’ve been through this.”

“I know,” she said, offering him a slim smile. “I’m just not a patient woman.”

“You sure nothing else is on your mind?” he asked.

Chang shook her head with a grin, then whacked him on the leg. “You’re so subtle. Seriously. Of course there are other things on my mind, but now isn’t the time.”

“No, I guess it’s not.”

Several minutes passed without any further conversation as Josh tried to find a decent radio station not fogged by static.

“So, Hoboken,” Chang said. “What do we do when we get there?”

Josh left the radio alone. He glanced at Chang and then focused again on the road. An old ’80s pop song came on the radio—something he remembered from his childhood—and he turned up the volume.

“No idea. It’ll depend entirely on what Cait McCandless does next.”