According to Design Read online

  “Shut it, Reece,” Dakota said.

  Samuel slapped Dakota’s stomach with the back of his hand. “Don’t tease him, Reece.” He stepped toward Wyatt with a brilliant smile. “Wyatt, I’m happy to see you again. Chandler said you finished.”

  “I have a couple of pieces done. Sully, these are the new etched glass inserts for the front door to update the previous ones. When I saw the changed logo, I figured I better update things,” Wyatt said. He patted the box.

  “Great, I’ll have them installed in the morning by my team,” Sully said.

  “You made new glass panels. It wasn’t part of the list.” Samuel moved to check out the box.

  Wyatt opened the flaps then carefully pulled the glass out of its wrapping. “I felt it was only right to alter them since I did the original ones. What do you think? I chose the simple rising sun part of the logo with the initials entwined.” He tilted the panel so it caught the light to reveal the frosted effect.

  “Oh, it’s fabulous. Thank you,” Samuel said. “What else is in here?”

  “Other than these panels, I only finished the exterior signs. I apologize for the delay, but the way things have been…“ Wyatt paused and shrugged. “No matter what, I wanted to at least give you something to work with while I complete the remaining pieces.”

  “Thank you for all of this. I’m sure the signs are great. I prefer you take your time to complete the work than rush through it.”

  “Appreciate it. You’re looking much better than when I saw you at the memorial. How are you doing?”

  “The allergen is completely out of my system and the doctors said my lungs are clear and healing. All I can hope is it’ll stay that way,” Samuel said. “I don’t want to see another nut anytime soon.”

  Dakota let out a snort and muttered something under his breath that no one caught.

  “Dakota, hon, please.” Samuel turned and rested his palm against Dakota’s cheek. “Go to the kitchen and work with Mal and Dorian. I’ll be safe with Wyatt, Sully and Reece.”

  In front of everyone’s gaze, Dakota almost crumpled at Samuel’s soft request and touch. The fiery energetic chef became a man gentle, compassionate and filled with love for another person.

  It was quite an accomplished feat in Wyatt’s mind. Part of him wondered what it would be like to love another man with every ounce of his being.

  Dakota shifted his face enough to place a kiss on Samuel’s palm. “Come right back to me.”

  “I promise. Perhaps Wyatt would like to stay for dinner once we’re through,” Samuel said.

  “I’m always up for Dakota and Malcolm’s cooking, but I don’t like leaving my nephew alone. Even if he’s a teenager, I promised to be there for him if he needs anything. Usually we’re at the studio for the rest of the afternoon.” Wyatt tugged out his cell phone and checked the time. “School’s out in another hour.”

  “He can join us. Does he like seafood?”

  “Collin loves this place. He wanted to eat here earlier, but things were shut down from construction,” Wyatt said.

  “Since I can’t install the window panels right now, I can get him. I mean Chandler and I could bring him here while you guys finish. Can you send him a text to look for my truck?” Sully offered with a glance to Chandler, who nodded.

  Wyatt studied all the others. “Do all of you mind having more company?”

  “Not at all. I miss cooking for crowds. Once we get the all clear from Sully and the final inspections, I’m opening the restaurant for lunch and dinners. I’m tired of these partial openings with mini-menus. I may do it before the B&B grand re-opening. Perhaps kick off with a rib night,” Dakota said.

  “I’ll second the rib night. Lemme send Collin a text,” Wyatt said. He opened the app and tapped out the message to his nephew. “He’s out around three-thirty, Sully.”

  “We’ll be there.”

  “Perfect. Let’s get these signs up. I want to see how everything comes together. I can’t believe how close we’re getting to the grand opening. This is going to be perfect,” Samuel said.

  “Everything I need is outside,” Wyatt said.

  “What do you need from me?” Reece asked.

  “Post-hole diggers would be great. Quick-set concrete to hold the main posts in place,” Wyatt said and named a few more items.

  “I have the concrete,” Sully said.

  “I have the rest of it,” Reece added.

  Eager to move things along, Samuel kissed Dakota’s cheek, whispered something to him, and led the way out through the door. Sully followed after he kissed Chandler’s temple. Reece and Wyatt brought up the rear.

  “Wyatt…”

  Wyatt stopped and looked over his shoulder at Dakota’s soft call. “What is it?”

  “Keep him safe for me,” Dakota pleaded.

  “I will. Promise.”

  Dakota returned to his kitchen.

  Chandler adjusted his glasses. “Nothing will be okay until the sheriff catches that prick,” he said. “If he doesn’t, I fear Dakota will grab a gun and go hunting.”

  “The sheriff will find him. He never gives up.”

  “Good to know. Better follow or they’ll leave you behind,” Chandler said. “I’ll help Mal keep Dakota occupied.”

  “Thanks, Chandler. Say hi to Mal and Dorian for me,” Wyatt said then jogged outside to find the rest of the men. He couldn’t wait to get to work putting up these signs for the Charm.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Since he wasn’t quite sure what to do with these teacher planning days, Keegan spent most of the morning in the lab at the sheriff’s station wrapping up some of the minor cases he’d handled over the last few months. He looked through the microscopes at several prepared slides he’d received from autopsies and various departments.

  He compared two sets of slides and noted the differences in his report. Then he typed in his conclusions. In his analytical forensic opinion, the fibers on the slides collected from the victim’s jeans during the rape examination at the Shore Breeze Clinic matched the fibers from the trunk of the suspect’s car. From the consistency of the dye, the weave and make-up of the cloth, the fibers weren’t from a different make or model car. He punched in a few numbers into a mathematical formula and came up with an accurate match. No one could dispute the evidence in court. Not when he included the additional report about the debris the examiner had found inside the rolled-up jeans cuff that matched the composition of the dirt from the trunk and back tire tread. There was also a complete match in the suspect’s DNA to the semen sample taken from the victim during the rape exam. In his forensic conclusion, the suspect, a college student from Pensacola, attacked and raped the victim on the beach south of the Shore Breeze Dock and Marina.

  Keegan always found it amazing how such tiny pieces of inconsequential items could bring all the puzzle pieces of a crime together. These were the times Keegan loved what he did.

  Once he finished, he repacked the evidence in their bags and the case box. He completed the tags on each bag and box to keep the chain of custody intact. Without the simple paper trail showing the detailed chronological timeline of every physical or electronic piece of evidence, a defense attorney could rip apart a case in seconds. He printed and signed everything, added the final reports to the file then placed it in the box. After securing the lid and signing the broken seal for reference, he carried it to the detective in charge of the case. He had another officer witness the receipt of the box before he returned to the lab.

  With a whistle to himself at how he’d solidified a case against a rapist, he returned his attention to analyzing new samples and information regarding the case of the Samuel Ashford attempted poisoning. There still wasn’t much, but he hoped the DA could secure the conviction of the suspect. Only a cowardly bastard would use something like a person’s allergic reaction to do all of his dirty work.

  Wrapping up those projects, he drove to the school and attended a meeting with the other science teachers for the
upcoming semesters. He took notes and tried to keep his attention where it was needed, but meetings were another level of Hell. When it finished, he gathered his things to leave with the others.

  “Keegan, hold up a moment,” the head of the science department, Brian Mellon, called to him.

  Keegan stopped attempting to make his exit. “Sure. What can I do for you?”

  “Only wanted to connect with you and see how you’re enjoying your time here at SBH.” Mellon propped one hip on the edge of the table near Keegan. “I’m impressed by your reports and the work I’ve seen from students. Plus, you handled the situation with young McBride in the finest way possible. For a first-time teacher, you’re doing a brilliant job.”

  “Umm. Wow. Thank you,” Keegan said.

  “I wasn’t sure how things would work. I thought juggling the school and forensics would be mad, but you’re doing it. It’s impressive.”

  Keegan repeated his thanks.

  “Keep up the work and don’t worry about next term. You have a position in my department as long as you want. I wish all teachers were as attentive and diligent. Good to have you on my team, Keegan.” Mellon patted Keegan’s shoulder on his way out.

  Stunned by the praise, Keegan looked over his shoulder. With the coast clear, he did a little victory dance. Adding a few more fist pumps, he cleared his throat and checked again. Chuckling, he returned to his netbook to shut it down. There was a notification for a new email. He popped it open without checking the subject.

  All the breath left his lungs. He dropped in the chair.

  How? How did he find me? This is a new email. New address. New phone number. He can’t find me. He’s not supposed to know where I went…

  Chills raced down his spine.

  With shaky fingers, he shut the netbook without closing everything down, then shoved it in the messenger bag, which he locked. He grabbed hold of the top handle and forgot plans for staying at the high school. He needed to leave and disappear into the open where no one could find him in a crowd.

  Not even aware of the drive through downtown and parking, Keegan made his way automatically to the Minstrel Café. He sat at the same table where he’d met up with Wyatt.

  “Hi, sweetie, good to see you again. Do you need a menu?” the familiar waitress, Diane, asked with a cheerful grin.

  The shaking got worse. His breathing faltered and wheezed. It became more difficult to pull in air. His lungs constricted from a band of pain slowly tightening a notch at a time. Nausea rolled through him. His stomach soured and flipped. Clammy sweat beaded along his face and palms. Painful thumps knocked around his head.

  “Keegan, sweetie, are you okay? Keegan?”

  All sounds washed out around him, slipping into a snowy cacophony.

  No longer able to control the trembling, and the wheezing increasing, Keegan collapsed to his side, falling out of the chair and onto the floor. He barely registered Diane scream for someone to call nine-one-one. The pain ripped into him and darkness swallowed him whole.

  Dwayne found me. I’m going back to hell.

  * * * *

  With Collin out of school all day due to ’teacher planning’— what the hell does that mean? —Wyatt didn’t have a clue what to do with an antsy, energy-filled teenager under his feet. Once he’d made sure Collin finished all of his homework, he dragged his nephew to the gallery. He handed him over to a confused Marissa and escaped to his studio.

  He continued on the more intricate details of the Charm window throughout the morning. Lost in the design and music, he didn’t lift up his head until someone flashed the lights. He turned to see Collin and Marissa in the doorway.

  “What’s up?”

  “Marissa is sending me for lunch at the Minstrel Café,” Collin said as he jogged over with the menu and a pad. “Whatcha want?”

  “Have you been helping her out?”

  “Yup, doing all the heavy lifting and cleaning. I get to show off my muscles,” Collin said. He flexed his growing muscles like a wannabe muscleman. “She’s getting a kick out of having such a handsome slave at her beck and call.”

  “I did not say that!” Marissa called out.

  Wyatt and Collin laughed at Marissa’s outrage and grumbling.

  “I like helping out here. This place is awesome. Not boring like some office or stiff like the base,” Collin said.

  “Did you help out your mom or dad?”

  “Filing and simple stuff since I couldn’t be around confidential information. Boring and dull.”

  “Helps you for figuring out what you want to do later in life.”

  “Is that how you knew you didn’t want to go near an office?”

  “I wasn’t suited to being cooped up behind a desk. I needed to be creative and work with my hands. It didn’t help that I had all these designs in my head wanting to get out. I’m lucky I can make a decent living as an artist.” Wyatt jotted down his lunch order on the pad then handed everything to Collin. “Need money?”

  “Marissa gave me some petty cash.”

  “Get a—”

  “Receipt. I know. Back soon,” Collin called over his shoulder. He jogged away.

  * * * *

  “Uncle Wyatt! Uncle Wyatt, get your shit and follow me! Now! Uncle Wyatt!”

  At his nephew’s frantic cries over the music, Wyatt dropped his equipment. He managed to grab his wallet and phone off the table by the door. Either way, he figured he would be leaving with Collin. He shoved the items in his pockets and almost collided with a breathless Collin. He grabbed hold of the teen’s arms to steady him.

  “Collin, what the hell is going on?”

  “You gotta come with me back to the café. It’s Mister Keegan. Something is happening to him. You gotta come,” Collin said. He broke free of Wyatt’s grip, grabbed Wyatt’s hand and tugged him.

  “Keegan? Go, son, go. I’m following you.”

  They ran to the Minstrel. The ambulance parked outside the front door sent chills through Wyatt.

  Pushing through the crowd, not giving a shit, Wyatt found a pale, shivering Keegan on the gurney with the two paramedics checking his vitals. “Oh my God, Keegan. Oh, no, Keegan, what happened?” He went around to the far side. The paramedics didn’t need him in the way while they administered aid. Wyatt took Keegan’s fingers in both of his hands. He couldn’t believe how icy cold Keegan’s skin felt. He found Keegan’s messenger bag left forgotten on the floor. He released one of his hands to grab the strap. With his free hand, he kept hold of Keegan’s hand.

  “Pulse low. Base temp low. Breathing erratic. We need to get him to the clinic,” one of the regular paramedics, Grayson, said to his partner, Norman.

  “Right. Clear the way folks,” Norman said. He lifted the handles and locked them in place. “Excuse us, Wyatt.”

  “I’m going with him,” Wyatt said.

  “Wyatt…” Keegan’s voice was thin and shaky. Still, he’d said Wyatt’s name.

  Wyatt stared down in time to see Keegan lift his eyelids and focus on him. His pupils were wide as if he were in shock.

  “Hey you. I’m here, Keegan. It’s me.” He lifted Keegan’s hand to kiss the knuckles.

  “Don’t leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Wyatt kissed Keegan’s knuckles again. “I promise.”

  Keegan closed his eyes once more.

  Wyatt gave the paramedics a determined look that said he wasn’t going anywhere but with Keegan. “Please let me stay with him.”

  “Can’t. Rules. Follow us,” Norman said and pushed the gurney away until Wyatt had to let go of Keegan’s hand.

  “Wyatt! Here!”

  At his name, Wyatt turned. The café owner, Isaiah Shaw, tossed something over the crowd. Wyatt reached up and caught what he realized was a ring of keys.

  “Delivery moped around the side,” Isaiah said. “Leave keys at the front and I’ll pick it up.”

  “Thank you!” Wyatt handed his nephew Keegan’s messenger bag. “Keep thi
s with you. I want you to go back to the gallery and tell Marissa what’s happening. Stay with her and I’ll call with an update.”

  “Don’t leave him alone. He looks really frightened and lost.” Collin wrapped both arms around the bag.

  With a nod, Wyatt raced out in time to see the ambulance disappear around a corner. He found the moped, figured how to get it started then putted across town. The ambulance was already there. He raced inside to the front desk and slammed his keys down. In the meantime, he tried to catch his breath.

  “Easy there. You okay?” the admin, Anita, asked from her spot behind the desk.

  “Ambulance brought in Keegan Donaghue. I’m his partner.”

  “Spell the name?”

  Wyatt spelled it out.

  “Right, Doctor Sheffield is examining him now, but you can’t go back there until he’s finished,” Anita said.

  “Please, I must. He didn’t want me to leave his side and I couldn’t stay in the ambulance. Can the rules be broken?” Wyatt pleaded.

  “Hold on a moment and I’ll speak with a nurse. You can take a seat over there. What’s your name?”

  “McBride. Wyatt McBride. Oh, can you hold these keys for Isaiah? He owns the moped and will pick them up.”

  Anita rolled her eyes. “Isaiah’s my husband. I’ll take care of them.” She scooped up the keys then dropped them on her desk. She disappeared through the automatic doors.

  Wyatt couldn’t sit. He had to move.

  “Okay, Doc Elliott’s being nice and will let you in the back. Stay out of the way and don’t interrupt,” Anita said as she pressed the panel to open the doors and allow him inside.

  “Thank you. Thank you.” Wyatt jogged past her, giving her a blinding smile of thanks, and stepped into a completely different world.

  “Bay three on the left,” Anita said and pointed in the direction.

  “This place has changed.”

  “Tell me about it,” Anita said and let the doors close.

  Sticking close to one of the walls, Wyatt tried to avoid the orderly chaos. He knew the ER had expanded over the last few months since Doctor Sheffield had started. Instead of sending cases to Pensacola, they could treat patients here under their new doctor’s care.