Time Out of Mind (Suncoast Society #43)(6)

Based on Doyle’s experience and training, he knew failure might possibly drive the guy to self-destruction, intentionally or not.

“Where are you thinking about heading?” Landry asked.

They’d all signed NDAs, so they could discuss it. Plus, Landry would be driving Doyle’s car home later and take care of it for him while he was gone.

“I don’t know,” Doyle admitted. “For tonight, probably as far as Barstow. I want him out of the valley. Then east.”

“Someplace paparazzi proof,” Tilly said as she put the finishing touches on her order slip. “Like a padded cell with no windows.”

An idea hit Doyle and Landry apparently noticed. “What did you just think of?”

Doyle pulled out his phone and scanned his contacts list. “Tilly, do you have Kel’s number?”

“Kel? You mean our friend in common, Kel, the rigger?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, why?”

“He still owns the complex Venture’s in, right? Didn’t he move out of his apartment and in with Mal?”

“Yeah. He’s actually partners with Derrick in Venture and—oooh!” She was already whipping out her phone. “I’m tracking ya.” She punched something in, his phone buzzing seconds later.

Doyle immediately called Kel. After Doyle identified himself, Kel warmed up immediately. They hadn’t been best friends or anything, but they’d known each other well enough.

Tilly made grabby hands gestures at Doyle’s phone. “Hold on a sec.” Doyle handed it over.

“Hey, buddy, it’s Tilly. How’s Mal doing? … Great! Listen, Doyle’s here with me right now. I’m the guilty party who gave up your number to him. Just wanted you to know I vouch for him. … Yep! Here he is.” She handed the phone back to him.

“So if Tilly’s involved,” Kel said, “it must be good. What’s up?”

“Is your apartment available to rent, by any chance?”

“The one behind the club?”

“Yes. And is it move-in ready?”

“Sure, it’s vacant, and it’s furnished. Two bedrooms, two baths. Nothing fancy, but functional. How long you need it for?”

“Well, it’s a long story, but I won’t know for sure until later tonight. But possibly two months. I need to line it up now, though. I can call you in the morning your time to confirm it. Name your price.”

Kel laughed. “For you, gratis.”

“No, seriously. It’s for a client.” He gave the briefest of details. “I need privacy for them, and you’ll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement about it, too.”

“Well, if that’s the case, you tell me what you want to pay. I won’t turn down easy money. It’s just sitting there right now because I store all my gear in the warehouse area.”

After a quick negotiation, they agreed on the price and Doyle confirmed they’d finalize the payment in the morning. Just as he ended the call, their waitress returned to take their orders.

Once they were alone again, Tilly smiled. “Sounds like you’ll have the best of both worlds for the next couple of months. Walking distance to Venture.”

“Maybe. If the guy agrees to work with me.”

“Portnoy’s Oyster is famous over in Europe, too,” Landry offered. “I remember taking a trip over to Paris a few years ago and they were in concert there.”

Tilly smacked his arm. “Shh!”

Landry glanced around and dropped his voice. “Sorry, love. My apologies. I should be more discreet.”

“Gee, ya think?” She turned back to Doyle and not-so nonchalantly steered the conversation in a hard-right turn. “Hear from Kathy lately?”

“She sent me a Christmas card. You see her?”

“No. She hasn’t been around.”

He scratched at the back of his neck. He talked to her a couple of times a year. They were even friends on Facebook. Their divorce, while personally painful to him, had been amicable.

She’d just had a baby with her new husband.

Totally vanilla.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t him—vanilla, that was.

Yet, here he was, alone.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t wanted kids.

Add to that he’d finally come out to her as bi, even though he’d had zero intentions of becoming poly or cheating on her, and it’d been the trifecta leading to “Gee, let’s talk amicable separation of assets because I don’t really think this is going to work out after all,” on her part. He hadn’t blamed her, but it still stung. He might be a trained professional, but even he wasn’t immune to feeling abandonment issues.

Cris arrived then, sliding into the booth next to Doyle after greeting Tilly, Landry, and the sleeping baby with kisses. “Doyle.” They shook. “Long time, no see.”

“Glad Ross didn’t get a chance to make good on some of his threats,” Doyle teased.

Cris laughed. “You and me both.”





“You have got to be shitting me.” Malcolm Levi Maynard, lead vocalist, guitar player, and award-winning, multi-platinum songwriter for the band Portnoy’s Oyster, stood at the heavily tinted window. It looked out on a very tiny area the size of a closet, which was ringed with tall, thick bushes. Technically, he could see sunlight during the day, but it wasn’t exactly a view.