Wyatt held the phone to his ear as he paced the hardwood floors covering his flat and he listened to the agitated voice on the other end. "Yes, Geoff, I understand how clocks work. I know it's early as balls and on a Sunday no less, but I figured you'd want to know what was going on before it made the damn news."

Wyatt regretted making the damn call as soon as he had hit send, but it was something he needed to do. Between what had happened at the restaurant and the notes that had been left on his car, plus the hang-ups at work and the call from Mitch, Wyatt really had no choice in the matter. Geoff Summerfield, his handler or whatever you wanted to call him, needed to be brought up to speed so they could decide what the next step would be.

He was only half listening but when the voice on the other end suggested leaving town, he suddenly had Wyatt's full attention. "That is not an option, Geoff. I don't care what you need to do. I am not running again. I've settled in and the restaurant is a huge success....I don't care. No. Find another way. Maybe if you put as much energy into the case as you do getting me back into hiding, you could find the last of them and this could be over for good. You want that, don't you?"

Wyatt rolled his eyes as he walked another loop around the flat to the coffee maker and poured himself another mug of the strong brew. Geoff had gone off on another tangent and there was no way Wyatt would get a word in edgewise, not without interrupting. "Look, I gotta go. Sarah will be here soon so we can work on the press release." He didn't wait for a response from Geoff before he disconnected the call and flipped the switch on the side to silent before he placed the phone back in the cubby. "Fucking asshole. I'll figure this shit out on my own..."

Wyatt shook his head and mentally berated himself for falling right back into the habit of talking aloud to himself. He'd done it a lot after what he saw the night and years of therapy had finally gotten him out of the habit. However, there were times when he was nervous or stressed that he would find himself muttering or having full conversations with himself as he started to close off the world around him. He refused to fall down that trap again. He grabbed his pack of smokes and pulled out a lifeline, placing it between his lips and then leaning down to light it with the flame from his stove. He turned the burner off and inhaled deeply on the one habit he couldn't seem to shake, not that he wanted to, and then walked out on to his balcony. Security. He needed to increase that both here and at the restaurant. He had to make sure the staff was safe, even after the excitement of the weekend had calmed down.

Hangups, calls with weird breathing, and notes that said stupid shit like, "Found you" or "Getting closer" were likely just pranks pulled by dumbass kids who hung out in the garage getting high or something, but dead bodies tended to rattle his nerves and put him on high alert. It didn't matter to Wyatt that the guy had had a heart attack, dead bodies were dead bodies and it would raise undue attention around the restaurant whether he liked it or not. This was beyond the little glorified write ups about how great the restaurant was or how elusive he was. This would bring out the vultures, and if they caught wind of anything else such as the notes or calls, or ex fuck buddies who were paid for their services...nope, Wyatt refused to even think what would happen then.

His hands shook as he pulled the smoke from his lips to tap the ash into the small ceramic ashtray he kept on the balcony. He leaned against the railing and tried to figure out how to word the press release he and Sarah were going to work on. Condolences to the family and the tragedy of death, something to show they weren't heartless about the loss of life while they continued to operate business as usual. Wyatt selfishly found himself wishing the guy had had enough courtesy to wait until he was in the parking garage, or better yet his own bed, to have his heart attack. Though he knew better than most that timing was always a bitch in every damn stroke of life. He sighed and butted out his smoke, then damn near yelped when he heard the door buzzer blaring through his loft. Even though he was expecting his co-manager, Wyatt refused to blindly buzz anyone in anymore, not after Mitch showed at his door one night. So instead of hitting the button on the balcony, he walked to the door and hit the camera button.

A smile formed when he saw Sarah bouncing on her toes as she waited. She turned to the camera and beamed as she held up a bag with the logo of his favorite bakery, pressing the speaker button to get his attention, "Open up, you big numpty, I've bought treats!"

Wyatt hit that door button so fast it was a miracle he didn't hurt himself in the process. He opened the door and stood with his arms crossed over his chest, blocking the picture of the fat kid holding a cupcake he picked up at that pop-up shop the week before. He picked up a few quirky shirts from there any time he could and loved the uniqueness of each and every one of them. Sarah stepped out of the elevator and Wyatt held his arms out. As she stepped closer to give him a hug, he reached down and plucked the bag from her fingers, then turned back into his loft with a laugh as she sputtered her indignation behind him. "You are lucky I almost like you, Wyatt Palmer! Give me back my treats!"

Her faint Geordie accent added a playful lilt to her words, not that he would have taken her seriously anyway. They'd been friends almost since the first moment she stepped into Donovan's and applied for a job. It hadn't taken her long to work her way up to management. In addition to her bigger than life personality, she worked her ass off right alongside him and learned the business inside and out. She respected the hell out of Wyatt's need for privacy, and in turn, he had let her closer than he'd let anyone in the past ten years.

She knew more about Wyatt's situation than she should, something that Geoff hated through and through. He had actually threatened to have her served with papers that would outline the hell that awaited her if she spilled the beans. Wyatt refused to allow him to deliver them. He knew Sarah had his back and when he let it slip about Geoff and his position in Wyatt's life, he could see the sincerity in her vow when she swore to keep her lips sealed. Wyatt set the bag on the counter and pulled a mug from the cupboard, then set to fixing up a fancy coffee for her. "I am damn lucky you almost like me, Sar, never doubt that I know that one."

He slid the mug over to her as she hopped up onto the counter, then tucked a strand of her fire red hair behind her ear before she picked up the mug and inhaled the scent of caramel and roasted hazelnuts, "Damn right you are." She flashed a smile and winked before diving into the bag of treats. Offering him his lavender maple donut that was the size of a dinner plate, she then pulled out a cinnamon roll nearly the size of her head for herself. "Have you heard anything yet?"

Wyatt shook his head as he chewed a mouthful of sugary goodness. He waited until he was mostly done chewing before he spoke. "I've been on the phone with Geoff most of the morning. I figured I needed to let him know what was going on. I'm sure the press is already looking for a way to spin this to be the fault of fatty foods or some shit like that, which is why it's better we get ahead of this while we can."

Sarah popped a large piece of roll between her lips. Wyatt snorted at the sugar trail she was leaving over her face, but she didn't care. Too many people were worried about appearances and what others might think rather than just living in the moment. It was sad. Sarah finished off her roll in silence, then licked the sugar from her lips before swallowing down a mouthful of coffee. "Well, that's just it, rumors are already swirling that it wasn't natural causes such as a heart attack or anything. They're saying he was killed."

Wyatt choked on his donut, coughing and sputtering as his eyes watered. Sarah's eyes went wide and she jumped off the counter to pound on Wyatt's back. His lungs burned and he couldn’t breath as the donut lodged firm in his throat. He made a fist with one hand, placing it between his ribs and belly button, then grabbed the fist with the other hand, pulling his hands in a quick upward movement. It took three attempts, but the wadded up dough shot from his mouth to the counter and he let out a gasped breath. Once he was able to steady his breaths, he took a sip of his coffee and turned to face Sarah. "Where did you hear that? Why would anyone even think that? Fuck. Hopefully it's just rumors, I mean, people always like to sensationalize things." That had to be it. If it wasn't natural causes, it would turn into a circus with the press. Wyatt shook his head again, "Let's just focus on the facts. We can get the press release ready and you can be the mouthpiece. Maybe we can nip some of the rumors in the butt..."

"Bud."

He rolled his eyes at her with a low groan. She was forever correcting him on that one and he'd still not learned, "Fine, we can nip it in the bud if we can get in front of this."

Sarah nodded slowly and bit the corner of her lip, "You're the boss. Pour me another coffee and slide over the pen and paper."

Wyatt snorted softly, "Right, I'm totally the boss. I can feel the respect rolling off of you right now." Even as he spoke he was sliding over the notebook and pen before picking up her sparkling pink mug to pour them each another cup.

A few hours later, they had a press release that was both compassionate and sensitive to the issue at hand. Sarah read it over again and smile brightly, "I think this is perfect. Let's get it typed up and ready to go."

Wyatt turned off the coffee machine and cleaned up the dishes and the counter, spraying it with bleach water and wiping everything down twice. Then he gathered his phone, keys and wallet, tucking each in their respective pockets of his slacks. He stepped into his work boots and led Sarah out, locking up and securing the alarm before they left.

They were halfway to the restaurant when Wyatt's phone rang. He pressed the call button on his steering wheel to answer, "This is Wyatt."

A deep voice resonated over the speakers, "Mr. Palmer, this is Detective Jones with Las Vegas Police Department. I was hoping I could come down to the restaurant this afternoon and talk with you and some of your staff."

Wyatt shot Sarah a look, "I'm actually on the way to the restaurant now, Detective. We'll be there taking care of some things if you'd like to stop by. I'm not sure I can add any more than I did last night though."

"I will see you there within the hour then, Mr. Palmer. Thank you."

They both heard the click as the detective hung up and Sarah let out a snort, "Well he sounds pleasant."

Wyatt shook his head and flipped the turn signal on as they approached the intersection, waiting until the path was clear before he pulled onto the road that led to the parking garage he used. "Yeah, he does. This should be all kinds of fun." He drove through the garage until he was near the nearly hidden back entrance to the restaurant. He pulled into his usual spot and turned off the car with a heavy sigh. "They are likely fishing around for things, but we have nothing to hide. We'll just answer their questions and then send them on their way."

He nodded and stepped out of the car, waiting until Sarah was by his side before pressing the key fob to lock the door. They walked through the garage in silence and Wyatt let them in the back door. It was quiet, with only a few prep staff on hand, but that quiet wouldn't last. In a few hours, the place would be buzzing with activity and Wyatt couldn't wait.

Sarah flipped on the lights as she walked through the restaurant while Wyatt stayed in the kitchen and checked on the prep cooks and bakers to see where they were at. He had just turned on the large bread warmer when he heard, "Fucking hell....Wy, you might want to get out here."

Worry threaded through Wyatt as he walked through the kitchen to the dining area and then his feet damn near stuck to the floor. His gaze followed Sarah's and he saw throngs of people standing at the entrance trying to peer through the windows, banging on the door, shouting questions the moment they saw movement. Wyatt let out a groan and shook his head. "You wanna go handle that, Sar? Just give them the statement and if they bring up anything else, direct them to the police."

Sarah flashed a bright smile and smoothed down her pale pink tee so that the funky tree with the cartoon birds subtly giving the bird were clearly displayed before shuffling her fingers through her hair. "You know how much I love the camera. You'll lose me to Hollywood one of these days."

She gave him that threat more often than not and Wyatt was sure it would happen one day, if she didn't like what she did so much. She put on the appropriate look of grief and stepped to the front doors while Wyatt slipped out the back door for a quick smoke to settle his nerves.