7. Wyatt
SEVEN
WYATT
My mind had been so on edge all morning after receiving the call from Dakota Mitchell that I hadn't been able to eat or drink anything. I hadn't been able to sit or breathe or…
Bumping into Ari were the only moments that gave me some relief.
The man was a thing of beauty. A work of art.
And his work was even more beautiful. It was impossible to worry about anything else when he was standing right in front of me, all sexy and masculine.
But I had to be careful. It was easy to forget myself around him, especially when he'd been possessing my every waking thought since I met him.
I had to be careful. I couldn't forget myself with everything going on on the island, and I especially couldn’t forget myself with Ari. He was my brother's friend. That was dangerous territory that could unleash all my secrets if I wasn't careful.
That didn't mean I couldn't think of him, though. It had become clear to me since I met him that even if I wanted to, I couldn't stop.
His beautiful smile, the bright, chocolate eyes, and his sexy face were a welcome distraction on my way to the station. Yet the farther I got from him and the closer to the station, the less I could focus on him and not the situation I’d gotten myself into.
I had no idea what they had on me, if anything. And no idea if Salieri had worked his influence on those people to put me behind bars with fake evidence.
And who knew what kind of shit he'd unleash on me next.
Whatever it was, I deserved it.
I hung back outside the station, waiting for Camille to arrive, when I noticed someone watching me. I tensed and stared harder at the figure trying—and failing—to hide behind a tree.
Great. Now he had people following me?
I started walking in his direction when he peeked at me from his hideout, and I stopped in my tracks.
"Elliot?"
I watched as the young boy came out of hiding, and I approached him. His head shrunk further and further between his shoulders the closer I got.
"What are you doing here? Why are you following me?"
I put my hand on him, and he flinched but looked up at me with his big, innocent eyes.
"I...I heard your call. I...I wanted to come with you."
I blinked. "What? Why?"
"I...I thought you needed someone. To be there for you," he said with a defeated shrug.
"That's really sweet, Elliot, but—"
"And so I can tell them you didn't do a damn thing," he added.
I let out a sigh, and my hand dropped down to his arm. I gave it a little squeeze. "You're too young to worry about me, Elliot. It's very sweet you want to be there for me, but I don't need you."
I tried to be gentle with the boy. He had been through too much and gotten the short end of the stick one too many times in life. He didn't need an old man shouting at him. Not that I ever would.
"That's bullshit and you know it," he said. "You're pushing everyone away because you think this is all your fault, but if there's a time you need your people around you, it's now when you're going through this...this...this terrible thing."
Elliot blinked, and after a moment, bit his lip. Then as if remembering himself, his eyes popped wide open and his head dropped.
I cupped the boy's cheek and patted it a couple of times with a reassuring smile. "You're right.”
"I-I am?"
"Yes. Of course you are. When did you get so wise, huh?" I asked. “I'm an old man used to doing everything for myself, and I don't know how to ask for help."
"You-you are?"
“What? Old?” I asked. “I thought that was obvious.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I meant…I don’t know what I meant.”
It was almost amusing, the way he was in total disbelief at my admission, but this wasn't a moment for laughing.
"I am. And I appreciate that you want to be there with me. But you're involved in this in ways I'd like them not to find out about, and I've already made a mess out of everyone's lives. I don't want you catching strays too."
Elliot closed his gaping mouth and swallowed a knot on his throat. "My brother," he said.
"The last thing I want is for Salieri to catch wind of you getting involved in this and going after you and the mistakes you made."
It wasn't that long ago when he was just an abused, neglected orphan teenager doing his criminal brother's bidding and wrecking havoc in Hwan's store and other businesses around the island.
His brother may have been in prison now, but that didn't mean Salieri couldn't pull a stunt on Elliot just to get back at me. No one knew he had been a criminal-in-the-making, and I refused to let him pay for someone else's mistakes and influence.
The boy had done a one-eighty since I'd taken him under my care and given him a job and a home.
He was a hard worker, dedicated, and an excellent assistant to Joey.
So much so he was managing the kitchen at the bar all by himself without getting flustered like any other boy his age would.
He had a life left to live, and I'd be damned if I let him put it to waste for dear, old me.
"So you can't come inside with me, but you can wait out here if you want. Okay?" I told him, and he nodded as Camille pulled up behind him in the parking lot of the station.
"Ready?" she asked me when I caught up with her, and she glanced at Elliot who leaned against the tree he'd been hiding behind.
"Let's do this," I told her.
"Great. But first—" She put a hand to my chest and glared. "What do you say if they ask you anything?"
"No comment," I replied.
"So did you kill the guy?" she asked, dropping her hand from my chest.
"You know I—"
"No comment!" she shouted at me, and I bit my tongue.
Gosh. Why was this harder than it had to be? Probably because it was my friend questioning me. My friend who thought I'd killed someone in cold blood.
"So you're denying the last time you saw Detective Bennet was before he went into hiding?" Hank asked.
Dakota, his son, glanced at his father but didn't say anything.
"No comment," I said.
Camille leaned forward. "Did you bring my client here to ask him hearsay questions? Where is the evidence, Captain Mitchell. We need hard evidence, until then we've got nothing else to discuss. And you've got nothing to pin this on my client."
Hank narrowed his eyes and stared at my lawyer. "Nothing other than his fingerprints on the murder weapon and him caught in the act."
"Are you kidding me, Hank?" she asked before I could interject. "Where is your proof it was the murder weapon? You have none."
"So what was he doing over the dead body, huh?"
"I told you I was sleeping, and I heard a noise and went down to check when I stumbled on him. How hard is that to believe?"
Hank shrugged. "Not hard, just convenient."
"Do you really think I did this, Hank? Really?"
Camille put her hand up and glared at me, but I ignored her.
"You might be a friend, Wyatt, but that doesn't mean I can let it affect my job. You're a suspect. I have to treat you as such."
"Then do so once you have hard evidence." Camille stood up. "We're done here. Please, no more fishing expeditions. I hate fish."
"I'm not done," Hank said.
"Yes, we are," Dakota said and glared at his dad.
"Finally. Someone with some sense," Camille pushed me, urging me to get up.
As I got to my feet, I checked the time on my watch.
This hadn’t even taken five minutes. What a waste, though I hadn’t known what was gonna happen during this visit.
Somehow, I thought Salieri, Wilson, whatever his name, would have planted more evidence against me, or that I would have the chance to clear my name, or something, but of course, it was just a rehash of that fateful night, when they found me “aiming” a gun at the poor bastard on my bar floor.
"That watch," Dakota said and pointed at my wrist. "Is it a smart watch?"
"What about it?" I asked as Camille mumbled something about zipping it.
"Nothing. I'm just saying. If it's a smart watch and you were wearing it in bed, we could look at the tracking data on it. It could go some way in proving your innocence," he said.
"I...I don't know..." I looked from Dakota to my watch, unsure what he was even talking about.
It had been a present from Autumn. I didn't know anything else about it.
"Well, we'll look into it and get back to you," Camille rushed to add before I could waffle on, and we walked out of the station.
"Sorry," I told her when we came out.
"What for?" she asked.
"I talked too much," I said.
Camille shrugged. "Don't worry about it. They've got nothing. You did okay. Not great, but okay."
I raised my hand between us and showed her the watch. "Do you think there's anything to what Mitchell Junior said?"
"Maybe," she said. "But I wouldn't know the first thing about this stuff. Do you have anyone who can look into this before we submit anything to them?"
None other than the resident genius, Slade.
"I've got someone in mind."
Camille nodded and instructed me on further actions as I walked her to her car.
"Is it me, or did Dakota sound like he was trying to help us?"
Camille grimaced. "Maybe, but I wouldn't trust him. I wouldn't trust anyone, least of all the police who had a dirty cop and did nothing about it for months."
I sighed and put my hands in my pockets. "You're right," I said.
Yet I couldn't stop thinking about the interaction back there.
Was Dakota really trying to help, or had Salieri gotten to him too, like he had to Detective Bennet? Had this all been a charade or a typical good-cop-bad-cop scenario?
Maybe I was just seeing enemies everywhere, but that was because they were. Everywhere. Even among friends.