“Good idea.”

“Do you want me to call you if I find anything? I might need backup.”

“Sure. Absolutely. Manchester, you said?”

“Like the soccer team.”

He took out his BlackBerry. “I’ll do some digging myself.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

Two CUPS OF coffee and an espresso crème brûlée had not made Michael any steadier on his feet.

When we reached his car, I held out my hand. “Keys?”

“I’m good.”

“Please tell me you’re not one of those cops who thinks the laws don’t apply to him.”

“No, course not. I ...” He looked around, blinking, then nodded. “You’re right. One glass too many. But you had—”

“One and a half, the last sip an hour ago, and I’m firie.” I walked along a yellow line dividing parking spots. “Want me to do it backwards?”

“Sure.”

I did, making him laugh ... and hand over the keys.

As I pulled out of the parking space, he said, “Watch out. She’s got a lot of—”

I hit the gas, smacking him back in his seat. At the street, I braked, sending him snapping forward.

“Sweet,” I said.

“Just be careful. You may not be impaired, but your reflexes could be a little—”

I tore off, accelerating, then hitting the corner fast and hard. Three blocks later I idled at a stop sign.

“Reflexes okay?” I said.

“Carry on.”

I turned left.

“Actually, the highway is—” he began.

“Too many cars. Don’t worry. I have an excellent sense of direction.” I took the first left onto a back road. “Columbus is this way. Roughly.”

I hit the gas.

I PARKED BESIDE my motorcycle.

“Good thing we took the back roads,” he said. “One cop and you’d have been out of a license.”

“Not too worried about that,” I said as I got out.

He eyed me over the roof. “You do have your license, don’t you?”

“Sure. I’ve got one.”

“One?” He looked at my bike. “Please don’t tell me—”

“Then don’t ask. I’m honest, remember? Not necessarily law-abiding, but unrelentingly honest.” I walked around and held out the keys. “And I do believe you’re ready for these.”

As I handed them over, he caught my hand.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said.

“So did I. You aren’t nearly as boring as you look.”

His laugh rang through the empty lot. “God, you are honest.” His hand slid around my waist, pulling me to him. I backpedaled away.

“Kissing? On a first date?” I said. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

He grinned and tried again, but I danced out of his reach.

“Second date,” I said. “And only if you let me drive your car again.”

“Without a license?”

“Ah, such a moral dilemma.” I unlocked my motel room door. “Call me tomorrow night if you’ve made up your mind.”

“I don’t think it’ll take that long.”

“Mmm, it might. Better wait until then. See if you’re still interested.”

I slid inside and closed the door before he could say more.

I stood there, fingers on the chain. I’d had a good time, too. Not a rock-my-world date, but a really nice one.

As I got older, I dated less, and I’d thought I was just slowing down, getting ready for that big moment when Adam would notice me, but after I realized that wasn’t happening, I just kept slowing down.

In some ways, it was like mourning after a bad breakup. I needed to get back in the game, and Michael would have been a nice place to start. Too bad he’d never call for that second date.

“Now that’s a dress,” said a voice behind me. “He let you get away that easily? What’s wrong with the guy?”

I spun to see Jesse stretched out in the armchair, file on his lap.

“Good thing I didn’t invite him in,” I said.

“Why would you do that? It was business, wasn’t it?”

“I can multitask.”

He laughed.

“You seem to have a talent for getting into places you aren’t supposed to be,” I said, kicking off my heels.

“You did read my record, right?”

“It’s juvie. Sealed.”

He arched his brows. “What kind of detective are you? Break and enter, as you probably guessed. Two years in juvenile detention, where the only thing I learned was how not to get caught next time.”

“Shocking.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “And you’ll give me pointers, right?”

“Anything you want to know.” He set the file on the side table. “I apologize for breaking in. Kind of. But I was sitting in my truck and the manager kept looking at me like he was five seconds from calling the cops.”

“That’s your pickup? The blue one? Or, presumably, used to be blue, at some point?”

“Yes, which explains the manager’s interest.”

“So, to avoid being suspected of breaking in, you broke in.”

“Exactly. If it bothers you, though, I won’t do it again.”

He said it like he was offering not to smoke in front of me.

“Call me next time,” I said. “So I know you’re inside and don’t blast you with an energy bolt.”

“Hadn’t thought of that. Consider it noted.”

He reached for an open Coke bottle on the table. When he couldn’t quite get it, he flexed his right hand slightly and the bottle slid to him.

“Show-off,” I said.

“Hey, I have to use my powers for something. They aren’t good for much else. Not like I’m a supercharged Volo.”

“And good thing, too.”

He frowned, then snapped his fingers. “Right. Lucas mentioned that you guys knew one. Quite the character, I hear.”

“Crazy psycho bitch, more like. Left me trapped in a research lab, tried to kill Paige and Lucas, and probably had something to do with my mom’s death. Let’s just say I fondly recall the day Paige sent her home to hell.”

“Don’t blame you.” He took a swig of Coke. “So, as you can tell, I’m swinging by earlier than expected. I figured I’d read the files and make copies of some pages.” He held up a camera. “I also figured I’d take you for a beer and discuss the case if it’s not too late.”

“It’s only ten o’clock.”

“I’m giving you an out, in case you’re still pissed off at me for dumping the case on you.”

“I was never—”

“Annoyed, then. So you’ll join me for a beer?”

“Or two.”

“Good.”

I grabbed my shoes. My cell phone chirped on the night table.

“You forgot this,” Jesse said, grabbing it for me. “It’s been going off all night.”

Not so much forgotten as left behind so I couldn’t get a call from Adam when I was out with another guy.

I checked it. Three text messages. One missed call. All from Adam, looking for that promised update. Damn.

“Just a sec,” I said to Jesse. Then I popped off a quick text, saying I was still working and I’d call in the morning.

There was no chance of finding a bar open in Columbus—I wasn’t even sure there was one. So we headed over to Battle Ground. Jesse bought the beer, then announced he had reason to celebrate. He’d found the deadbeat dad he’d been hunting.

“Bet your client is happy,” I said.

“Thrilled. I just hope it means they’ll get the guy to pay up. You should see this woman. Juggles two part-time jobs so she can be there when her four kids go to school and back when they get home. Lives in a dump and takes in typing work so she can pay for paint to spruce the place up. And the bitch of it? Once, when she was ready to crack, she admitted that she hadn’t wanted four kids. She didn’t think they could afford so many, but her husband came from a big family. He wouldn’t let her go on the pill and would keep ‘forgetting’ to use protection, knocking her around if she complained.”

“Bastard.”

“Yeah.” He took a gulp of beer. “I mean, my family life wasn’t the best. I think my dad had a suspicion I wasn’t his kid—the whole half-demon thing—so he didn’t want much to do with me, but then I see people like this family, and I realize I had it okay. Anyway, I’m really hoping this guy gives up and pays. And if not, let’s just say that my next visit won’t be so friendly.”