Time Out of Mind (Suncoast Society #43)(14)

One benefit to sixty days in rehab was losing nearly twenty pounds of weight he’d put on in the six months of heavy drinking during the investigation and trial before his final blowup. Being able to use the rehab facility’s gym every day.

Maybe he’ll find us a place where I can work out or swim or something.

In bed once more, he stretched out on his back and stared up at the ceiling. If he was alone in the room, he’d turn on the lights, break out his guitar and iPad, and start screwing around and see if anything gelled.

But despite trying to keep up an emotional wall between him and Doyle, he didn’t want to be rude. The guy was doing his job, and he was doing all the driving. The least he could do was let the guy sleep.

And Doyle successfully doing his job would, hopefully, put the better part of half a mil into Mevi’s bank account before the end of the US leg of the tour. That wasn’t counting royalties from increased album sales from the tour, and the Sirius-XM special channel they were hosting for a month.

Since working was out of the question, he’d have to lie there and stare at the ceiling.

All while trying not to pop a chub over the guy in the next bed.

This is going to be a long ten weeks.





Doyle knew tonight would be a night of light sleeping.

Fortunately, he was, by nature, a light sleeper.

He awakened immediately when he heard Mevi moving around in the bathroom, but he lay there, pretending to be asleep, to see what the guy would do.

Mevi never even walked toward the front door.

That’s good.

Didn’t mean he could let his guard down, but it was a good first step. In his experience, the ones who gave him the most trouble tried to push the boundaries the very first night.

He could tell from the sound of Mevi’s breathing that he wasn’t asleep. Doyle didn’t know what time it was and couldn’t look without Mevi realizing he was awake. He preferred to surprise his clients with his light-sleeping, giving him a slight tactical advantage over them in the beginning. They weren’t as much on their guard and more likely to slip up, if that was what they were going to do.

The downside was that Mevi was an alcoholic. That was easily and legally obtained nearly anywhere. At least with an addict, they couldn’t usually walk into the average drugstore and grab what they needed to get high.

Although a few had proven quite creative with over-the-counter sinus meds.

Eventually, some time before dawn Friday morning, he heard Mevi’s breathing slow and deepen again. That meant Doyle could safely close his eyes and hopefully catch a little more sleep before their day began. He needed to plan their route in detail, at least the next stage of it. He didn’t want to be caught near any large cities if possible, and for this trip preferred motels with exterior doors where he could park by the room and whisk Mevi inside.

Once they reached Florida, Mevi would be mostly isolated. He’d let the man settle in and then work with him. Maybe they could even have dinner with Tilly and her men if they returned to Sarasota. Sure it’d be easier to make this trip as quickly as possible, but that would add more stress to Mevi’s plate. Better to let the stress rest on his own shoulders with the driving and logistics and let the man try to get used to freedom again.

This time of year, in Sarasota, during the weeks the beaches wouldn’t be too busy. Or they could hit any number of parks. He could take him out to walk, do some talking, get some fresh air. Give him a taste of a different way of life for a while with no pressures on him except to work on himself and maybe on his music, if he felt up to it.

When his eyes next snapped open, he spotted dim daylight around the corners of the drapes and Mevi still asleep in the next bed.

Whew.

Then he heard what had awakened him, the sound of someone in the room next door getting ready to leave.

While on his laptop last night, he’d already scouted nearby stores and restaurants. He wanted to be on the road as soon as possible after changing Mevi’s appearance. Without his distinctive hair, he’d probably go unrecognized, for the most part.

Doyle hoped.

While Mevi was one of the most famous clients he’d ever dealt with, the good thing was that many people didn’t recognize musicians the way they did actors. A musician’s calling card was their voice, not their face.

Note to self, no karaoke for him.

No tai chi for him this morning, either. A couple of his clients had started doing the morning routine with him. He would never make someone do it, but he didn’t mind the company. It was a soothing way for him to start his mornings and helped him focus, but that didn’t mean it’d work for someone else.

He removed the portable alarm from the room door before he hit the bathroom. He couldn’t help but sneak a peek at Mevi as he walked past his bed.

He was a good-looking man. No denying it.

While he’d been married to Kathy, there’d been a couple of years where he’d struggled in their marriage. He’d loved her, but he knew she wasn’t masochistic and wasn’t into playing like he wanted to play. It didn’t help that he’d known he was bisexual.

After their separation, when Kathy made it clear she wanted him to move on, he’d dated a couple of guys, and a couple of women, but nothing that stuck long-term.

When he emerged to wash his hands, he noticed Mevi’s eyes were open.

“Good morning,” Doyle said. “How’d you sleep?”