Maxie's fingers froze. "No shit?" His brows crawled into his hairline. "I was going to ask you how you lost her. How'd she manage that?"

"With money and a bit of trolling online, probably."

Maxie snapped his fingers. "So she's smart."

"Not really." Reegan swept a hand across the desk, pushing the 3D screen aside. "She has no idea about closed timelines and traversable wormholes. What was she thinking?" He smacked the wood with his fist, rocking the fishbowl hard enough to splash water over the rim.

With a flick of his wrist, Maxie repositioned the screen in front of them. "She was thinking she wanted to go back in time."

Reegan snorted. "Don't we all?" He glanced into the jaunt room. Bluto and Pigtail had spread themselves along the perimeter. Emilio stood directly in front of the two-way mirror, staring inward. As intimidation tactics went, it worked a little too well for Reegan's liking. He gave the guy the finger. "No. What she wanted to do was erase the past. That's completely different."

"Not when you're desperate."

That hit too close to home for Reegan's liking. "You got a plan?"

Maxie spun his finger in the air, and the display rotated to face Reegan. He squinted at the information hovering on the screen. "A P.I.?"

"Yeah. Why not?" Maxie lit a fresh cigar. "It won't be cheap, but a dollar stretched a bit further back then. I've got enough old currency in the vault to make it work."

Bring a stranger into the mix? Wasn't he tempting fate enough as it was? "I don't know. Getting involved with a local could get me eliminated even more quickly. And it's late at night there. Where the hell am I going to find a reputable private investigator at that hour?"

A slick smile spread over Maxie's face. He winked. "Who says we need reputable?"

No one. But qualified would help. The two tended to go hand in hand.

"Fine. Let's say I find some workaholic willing to take on a missing person's case at nearly midnight. There's going to be a fine line between giving them enough information to help and withholding enough to protect myself." Minimizing timeline ripples would buy him time, but there were no guarantees.

"Thought you were a big-shot professor?"

Reegan dropped into a chair and massaged his pounding temples. "Of history."

"You're field trained."

"Jesus!" Reegan exploded out of his seat, waving at the thick smoke hovering over Maxie's desk. "Not for this. I don't think my three-hundred-page dissertation on the internal politics of the Unionist Party is going to be a huge help here."

Real fear crept in. D'arco hovered like an angry wasp, and now Reegan had to play a game of chicken with the cosmic forces of the universe. Maybe some help wouldn't be amiss. "Okay. We'll try the private eye." He'd have to make up one hell of a cover story. "You have someone in mind?"

"Right here." Maxie stabbed his cigar at the data scrolling on the screen. Smoke floated into the graphics, causing them to flicker. "Saul Kildare. Ex-marine. Ex-police detective. Hung out his shingle in 2019. Took it down about a year and a half later. Must have got a better offer somewhere. Small operation. Just him, it looks like." Maxie expanded a picture of the guy, and Reegan had to bank his instinctive reaction. Black hair, longer than what Reegan had expected for ex-military, and deep-set blue eyes. "Nice."

"I thought you'd like that." Maxie scowled at Saul's handsome, chiseled face. "Ready to hear the best part?"

"He's gay?"

Maxie wheezed a laugh. "Don't die, McNamara. I'd miss your sick sense of humor."

"I was kind of being honest."

"That's the sick part. No, the good news is that the address for his residence matches the address for the business."

That was good news. Maxie's database was state of the art, a supercomputer so full of information about the metro area's history that it made Reegan dizzy. It was Maxie's pride and joy. If he said the guy slept where he worked, then Reegan trusted him. "All right. It's not going to get better than that. Guess I'll pay Mr. Kildare a visit."

"Say hi for me."

Reegan slipped Silvia's abandoned bio bracelet back into his pocket. It might come in handy later. He keyed Saul's address into his own, and he and Maxie left the office side by side.

Maxie stopped him outside the jaunt room. "This is going to be the longest few minutes of my life."

"Stop trying to make me jealous." No matter how long it took Reegan to fetch Silvia and get back to the portal, little time would pass here. The loop always unfolded with a small overlap, returning jaunters five minutes after they left. Maxie would barely have time to get nervous before Reegan returned.

"Hey, knowing my ass is riding on you is no pleasure cruise." Despite his words, Maxie clasped him on the shoulder. "Be careful."

Chapter Four.

Saul jerked at the loud knock, and the vodka slipped from his grip. He caught it one-handed before it hit the floor. At least his reflexes were still half decent. With a scowl, he set the bottle back on the desk just as the pounding stopped.

Unless it was Cammie checking up on him-and she had a key-someone had the wrong address. He didn't have any friends. Not anymore.

The silence stretched long enough that Saul sniffed and reached for the vodka again. His hand had barely brushed it when the pounding resumed, and his fingers twitched, sending the bottle crashing to the floor. The sound of shattering glass didn't disturb him as much as the sight of all that clear oblivion leaking through the wood planks. "Fuck!" He stalked out of his office and across the reception area. On the other side of the frosted glass, a man's figure stood, tall and broad-shouldered.

Saul jerked the door open to a sandy-haired Indiana Jones impersonator, and the man's fist, which had been raised to pummel the glass yet again, dropped to his side. Saul took in the khaki pants tucked into scuffed calf-high boots and the long-sleeved button-down shirt. The safari hat resting on the stranger's head, tilted jauntily to one side, completed the costume.

Saul rested his forehead against the doorframe and sighed. "Can I help you?"

"I'd like to hire you."

It shouldn't have hurt, being the butt of the guys' jokes after all these months, and mostly it didn't. Saul had opened the door to his share of male strippers this past year. And singing telegrams. And other not-so-harmless things. His punishment for daring to be gay in the old boys' club.

He didn't have it in him to play along tonight. "Tell Ron and the rest of them to fuck off. I've had enough. One more incident and I'll file harassment charges."

The man's tentative smile slipped. "I feel like we've miscommunicated somehow. Let's start again. My name's Reegan McNamara, and I'd like to retain your services."

This Reegan guy was the best actor they'd sent so far. And gorgeous enough to make Saul reckless. "My professional services?" he asked, loading his tone with suggestion. Reegan's short hesitation doomed him. That and the way he was staring at Saul's mouth. Saul laughed. "I didn't think so. So you must want to partake of my other services." He stepped into Reegan's space, leaving a slim three inches between them, just enough to see the pupils of Reegan's eye dilate, and hooked a finger under his belt. "My blowjobs are legendary, you know."

A sound escaped Reegan's throat, and he yanked Saul's hand away. Muttering something indecipherable, he pushed into the room, gaze passing over the cheap, sparse furnishings. "Listen, not that I don't find your offer appealing, but I'm in a hurry. I've lost someone, and I need to find her as soon as possible."

Saul grasped for a verbal handhold. "Are you trying to tell me you're actually a client?"

"I'm trying to be, so can you stop it with the fuck-me eyes? They're very distracting."

Only the doorframe kept Saul on his feet. Clearly, he'd killed that vodka bottle the conventional way and was now experiencing alcohol-induced hallucinations. "I'm sorry. I didn't-I'm Saul Kildare."

Reegan's face was pinched and drawn tight over his cheekbones, but he cracked a grin at Saul's wobbly greeting. "I know. I recognize you from your picture." He stuck a tanned, calloused hand in Saul's face and looked him over, taking in the wet splatters on his jeans. "You look like you've had a bad night, but frankly, so have I."

Saul took the offered hand, finding it warm and firm against his own. When Reegan's thumb curled, stroking over the back of Saul's knuckles, heat unfurled in his abdomen. He swallowed past a dry throat. "All right, Mr. McNamara. Where exactly did you see a picture of me? And what are you doing pounding on my door at midnight?"

"Maybe I heard you were offering free blowjobs, so I hustled right over." Reegan flashed a brilliant white smile.

Clients who ignored direct questions were usually more trouble than they were worth. Clients who flirted and ignored direct questions were downright dangerous. "How about the truth?"

"Oh, believe me." Reegan's gaze ran appreciatively over Saul. "I was being truthful."

So this was a scam. Funny how it didn't hurt his feelings in the slightest. The way Reegan's gaze ran up and down his body, lingering in all the right places, ignited a fire in Saul's stomach. And the way he swayed closer, as if he couldn't help himself, sent the flames higher. Giving in to ill-advised desires was his trademark, and as usual, the consequences felt nebulous and far away. This would hurt less than the Stoli in the long run. Maybe. He backed up until he was leaning against Cammie's desk, legs sprawling open. "Prove it."

None of the tension left Reegan's face, but softness crept into his eyes, tinged with the inescapable need Saul was feeling. "Never let it be said I turned down an offer like that." He gripped Saul's biceps, squeezing the firm muscles there. "At least something's going my way tonight. Come here, gorgeous." He slipped a hand behind Saul's neck, kneading the soft hair, and leaned forward to nip his chin. "You like kissing, Saul Kildare?"

Saul's misgivings coalesced into a bone-deep arousal. Nobody had touched him since that horrible, drunken night he'd let Ron talk him into an "experiment." Before that, he couldn't even remember. Self-preservation had kept him in check for a decade, but the need for discretion had disappeared with his job and friends. Screw it. If he couldn't get drunk, he'd get laid.

"Yeah," he grunted, voice graveled. "I like kissing." And vodka. And vindictive closeted men. Not a winning combination however he played it.

"Excellent." Reegan stepped between Saul's spread legs, but he didn't just kiss him. He stalked and captured Saul's mouth, just as his attire suggested he might. Any illusion that Saul controlled the moment evaporated when Reegan hoisted him up by the hips and set him on the edge of Cammie's desk. The large hands returned to cup his face, holding it steady for Reegan's probing tongue.

Eventually Saul broke away, gasping for breath, but Reegan didn't let him go far. His fingers slipped into Saul's short hair and tipped his head back. The air Saul had managed to inhale left him in a rushed moan as Reegan nuzzled up the line of his neck, pressing his nose against the soft skin behind Saul's ear.

The gentle scrape of teeth was his undoing. Arching his hips, Saul pressed his full, aching cock into Reegan's thigh. The reality of an aroused man in his arms overwhelmed everything else. He groaned, and Reegan echoed it.

"Whoever sent you definitely did me a favor," Saul panted.

Reegan's biting kisses paused. For a long moment, he stood breathing against Saul's cheek. "Shit," he muttered.

Saul tried to wiggle closer. "What?"

"Nobody sent me. Okay, that's not exactly true, but I am here to hire you. If you're willing to start immediately, be discreet, and don't mind being paid in small bills."

Saul pushed against Reegan's chest until they could look each other in the eye. "You're serious."

"Yes. I'm serious."

He'd just molested a client. A potential client. He shoved Reegan off and away. Two deep breaths cleared his head, even if his cock ignored the message. "I don't even know what to say. I thought you were...someone else."

"Why don't we skip this awkward part and move on." Reegan adjusted the bulge in his pants. "At least you have an excuse. I knew exactly why I was here."

It rubbed, having the responsibility removed for what had been very mutual. Saul slid clumsily off Cammie's desk and gestured Reegan into his office. "Whatever." He stepped around the shattered glass and puddle of vodka. "Watch yourself."

Reegan skirted the mess and took one of the two seats in front of Saul's desk. "Did I interrupt a party?"

"It was going to be a party of one, so no. Your timing was perfect." He'd been one twist away from throwing away seven months of sobriety. For some reason, the need that had strangled him just minutes ago had evaporated, but the knowledge of how close he'd come made him sick with shame.

Reegan threw a wry smile at the destroyed bottle of Stoli. The red and gold label was torn and battered, but intact. "You know what they say about people who drink alone?"

"Yeah, that they're alcoholics. There's a reason they say that." Saul sat forward in his chair and met Reegan's surprised gaze without flinching.

The several second standoff ended with Reegan removing his hat and scratching his fingers through his hair. "I've got a problem. A missing person."

The chair creaked when Saul leaned back, steepling his fingers under his chin. "I'm listening."

"I'm not going to mince words. I only have a few days to find her."

"Why?"

"She doesn't have her medicine. Without it, she'll die."

Saul digested that. "Okay. How long has she been missing?"

"About two hours." Reegan reached inside his jacket and pulled out a picture, which he slid across the desk. "That's her. Silvia Panitierre. We were watching the speech together on the Mall in front of the Air and Space Museum. I took my eyes off of her for five minutes." Frustration rang in his voice.

"She ran away." Saul didn't phrase it as a question since Reegan had already implied as much. He spun the picture around and drew it close. Recognition shot through him. "Hold on. I saw her."

"What?" Reegan came halfway across the desk. "When?"

Saul held up a finger while he calculated. "A few minutes before nine. She was running. Nearly knocked me down." She'd looked scared, as though something was chasing her. He didn't share that with Reegan. "Why did she take off?"

"That's a bit tricky. But let me assure you I'm not overblowing the danger."

Tricky. He might as well have said illegal.

"If she's in serious danger of dying, then I suggest you go to the police. They can get her name and picture out there. The more exposure, the better."

"No. The less exposure the better. Believe me." Burying a frustrated sigh in his palm, Reegan slumped in his chair.

Saul sat back and watched Reegan mentally readjust his story. He didn't want this case, but he didn't have the balls to turn it down either. Not when eviction was imminent.

"Listen," Reegan said. "The more you expose her, the greater the threat."

"Are you the threat?" Saul made sure the quiet question had penetrated before sliding the picture of Silvia back to Reegan.

Jaw tight, Reegan shook his head. "No."

When sober, Saul was an excellent judge of character. He nodded. "I'll need more details. Why did she run away? Does she know anybody in the city? Which credit cards would she use? Is there anybody she might call for help?"

Reegan's hands curled into fists on his knees. "She had a...fight with her husband. She knows nobody. I don't know if she'd have credit cards." He frowned, as if the probability worried him. "Probably cash."

"How much cash is she carrying?"

"I have no idea. But she's...she's unfamiliar with the culture around here. She'll stand out because of it."

"Unfamiliar how?" Saul voice grew sharp. This story smelled worse by the second. He didn't appreciate Reegan twisting the information. "If you want to find her, you're going to have to be more upfront."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that," Reegan muttered. "She's a foreigner. Of sorts."

"Of sorts? Is English her first language?"

Reegan bobbed his head. "Absolutely."