Track 20

“Need You Tonight”

Present Day

“Is this part of my tour? Are you here to show me heaven?” Hayden smiles through my open car window. He jacks his thumb toward Taco Heaven behind him. “Because I’ve already tasted the hot ’n’ spicy enchiladas here. I died and saw the angels.”

“Get in the car,” I say. No preamble, no niceties. His eyes bulge, then he gives the same respectful salute he gave at the office yesterday.

God, yesterday seems like a lifetime ago. Time flies.

Or disappears.

As Hayden walks around the back of the car to the passenger side, I catch his worried expression in the rearview, bottom lip clamped under his perfect teeth. I shouldn’t have snapped at him like that. He drove all the way out here to see me and didn’t even question it. Obviously my rational side has yet to make its triumphant comeback.

But I do have the presence of mind to quickly pop a Tic Tac into my mouth. Fresh breath after tacos should always be a priority, no matter what. I slap the thick folder containing my Jane paperwork on the rear seat.

By the time he gets in, Hayden’s frown lines have disappeared and the easy grin is back. In my tiny car, he has to fold his tall frame like origami paper. He’s so close I can smell heady, outdoorsy sandalwood on his skin.

Now I want to order Hayden out of my car, because I’ve started thinking about snuggling his neck and that’s so inappropriate for a thousand different reasons. I force myself to keep on track.

“I’m sorry for sounding like a drill sergeant,” I say, wincing at the way I spoke to him. “Just because I’m your boss’s daughter doesn’t mean I get to order you around. Especially when we’re not at work.”

“Apology not needed but accepted.” That perfect smile flashes white. He shifts in the seat, putting more space between us, then he grows serious. “So what are you doing here, other than breathing in Tabasco fumes?”

“Oh…” I fiddle with the key chain swinging from the ignition. “I’m quietly freaking out.”

“About…?” He peers at me closely. Nothing in his gaze shows me that he’s freaking out about anything. Not even about being summoned ten miles out of his way to a Mexican restaurant. Then a look of clarity—and concern—crosses his features. “Has something happened to your mom?”

My breath catches. I’m touched that he remembered her. “No, there’s no news. Dad’s working through the list of new treatment centers I gave him. I’m doing all I can to get her out of Eden in my own way.” There’s no time to give him the whole spiel about me taking on the Jane Flanagan case. I circle back to the problem at hand. “But that’s a different kind of freak-out. This one affects us both.”

He sits up, eyebrows knitting together. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“Something weird happened to me on the drive home last night.” I watch him carefully, checking his reactions.

“Ohhh?” Hayden draws out the word, turning one syllable into four. He sounds wary. His wide shoulders square up.

“Maybe you can help me figure it out. You were right behind me. The entire time.”

He nods. “And I was extremely impressed by your defensive driving on those dodgy roads.”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. Is he being evasive or are we just not on the same page? “Did I stop for any reason?”

He shakes his head. “I noticed you did a perfect rolling stop at that last intersection before we got to your house.”

I sigh. Not only are we not on the same page, but we’re not even on the same book. “But did I pull off the road and stop for a while?”

“No,” he says finally.

“You’re sure?” I lean closer. He leans back. It’s just a small move, but it’s significant. He folds his arms across his chest.

“Yes,” he says. “And I’m glad you didn’t, ’cause those woods are hellishly freaky in the dead of night.”

Dead of night. Interesting choice of words. “Do you know what time it was when we reached my house?”

He sucks in his cheeks. “No idea.”

“I do.” I give a dramatic pause. “It was 9:53.”

“Um, did you miss your curfew?” he asks, seemingly unmoved by my amateur theatrics. “I’d be happy to explain to your dad…”

Narrowing my eyes, I say, “Hayden, don’t you see? That ten-minute shortcut? It actually took over two whole hours.”

“That’s…impossible.”

“Two hours and thirty-three minutes, to be exact. And that means your return trip would have taken another two hours and thirty-three minutes, and you would have arrived home after midnight.”

“Ah, but I didn’t,” he says, holding up a finger. “I went home another way because I didn’t want to drive that mountain road by myself. I’m not as brave as you are.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Obviously not with you,” he says.

“So tell me, what time did you get home?”

He shrugs. “Don’t know. Dinner was waiting. I did my homework. And that was it. My exciting night.” He lowers his voice. “It was more exciting when you were with me.”

“Hayden…”

“Right, I forgot. No flattery necessary.”

My mouth twists. He’s being obtuse. Annoyingly so, but he can still make me smile.

“Look,” he says, “I’m not sure what you mean. The trip didn’t seem that long to me.”

“That’s the problem! Don’t you see? I know that shortcut. It’s called a shortcut for a reason.”

He inhales sharply, his chest expanding far enough to strain the seams of his slim-cut sweater. “Okay…what are you saying?”

“I’m saying we’re missing almost three hours out of our lives. Didn’t you notice?”

Hayden swallows hard again. He looks away guiltily.

“Why aren’t you answering me?”

“Yeah, I…I noticed.” He slips his hand down to mine. It’s like he’s trying to stop himself from drowning by hanging on to me. He’s shuddering. Seeing that vulnerability in him makes me melt.

He’s scared.

And that makes me scared, too. But we don’t have to be scared. Knowledge is power, so the cliché goes. There’s also safety in numbers. Another cliché. I hardly care what my English teacher would say about it at this point.

“I know where we can find answers. Or find help, anyway.” I pluck the Alien Abductees Anonymous flyer from my bag and hold it inches from Hayden’s nose. “At this meeting. Tonight.”