Chapter 13 #2
Finally, a woman emerged from apartment 2B. Late thirties, dark hair in a ponytail, wearing a hotel housekeeper uniform. She walked with her head down, keys in hand.
Quinn pulled out the old photo on Dax’s phone. Compared it to the woman.
“That’s her,” Quinn breathed.
The woman—Clara—got into an old Honda and drove away.
“We should follow her. See where she goes. Verify her routine.” Dax started the truck.
“Or we could just talk to her now. Before we lose her.”
He shook his head. “Too risky. We need to be smart about this.”
“My father was smart. And look where it got him.” Quinn’s voice was sharp. “We need to act while we have the chance.”
Dax met Quinn’s eyes. “And if we spook her? If she runs?”
“Then we find her again. But we can’t keep waiting for the perfect moment, Dax. Sometimes, you just have to take the risk.”
The words hung between them. About Clara. About Wheeler. About them.
In that moment, Dax made a decision. “We’ll come back when her shift ends. Approach her at home. More private. Less chance of witnesses if she panics.”
Quinn nodded, her attention returning to the view outside.
They killed time at a diner, ordering food neither of them ate. The tension was suffocating.
Finally, Quinn spoke. “This morning, before Carson called…you said you’re scared. Of what exactly?”
Dax set down his untouched sandwich. Guess they were still doing this. He considered lying, but knew it would only push her away more, and he was quickly realizing a life without Quinn was no life at all. So… “Of caring about you and watching you die. Like everyone else I’ve cared about.”
“But you already kissed me back.” Her amber eyes, filled with questions, met his. “So clearly there’s something. Unless I completely misread that and you were just being nice or—God, was it pity?”
He snorted a humorless laugh and shook his head. “It wasn’t pity.”
“Then what was it? Because I’m so confused, Dax.
One minute you’re holding me and kissing me like I matter, and the next you’re a hundred miles away.
” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I just need to know if this attraction is mutual. If you want me too. Or if I’m alone in this and making a complete idiot of myself. ”
The weight of those words, of everything—her grandmother dying, Wheeler’s threat, the fragility of it all—hit him hard.
Before he could respond, Quinn’s phone rang.
“Nathan,” she announced, and answered on speaker. “Is Gran okay?”
“For now. But Quinn, you should come back soon. She’s asking for you. Her breathing is getting labored again.”
Quinn’s face went pale. “We’re five hours away.”
“I know. Just...hurry.”
After hanging up, Quinn stood abruptly. “We need to go. Now.”
“What about Clara?”
“We’ll come back. Or Carson can approach her. I don’t care.” Quinn was already heading for the door. “I need to be with my grandmother.”
Dax followed, his chest tight. In the truck, Quinn called out the address to Clara’s apartment.
“What are you doing?” Dax asked.
“We’re here. Might as well try.” Quinn’s voice was determined. “Five minutes. That’s all.”
They pulled up to the apartment complex just as Clara returned from her shift. Perfect timing.
“Maria Santos?” Quinn called out as they approached.
The woman froze, her hand going to her keys like a weapon. Fear danced in her eyes.
“My name is Quinn Barrett. My father was David Barrett.” Quinn kept her distance, hands visible. “I think you knew him.”
Clara’s face went pale. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please. I know you’re scared. But my father was murdered by James Wheeler. And I’m trying to get justice.” Quinn’s voice cracked. “I need your help.”
Clara’s eyes filled with tears. She looked at Dax, assessing.
“Detective Dax Mercer. Blackridge PD.” Dax kept his hands visible too. “We just want to talk. Five minutes.”
Clara hesitated, her whole body trembling. Then she nodded and unlocked her door.
Inside, the apartment was small but tidy. Two bedrooms, children’s artwork on the fridge.
“How did you find me?” Clara asked, standing defensively by the door.
“My father’s notes. He documented everything.” Quinn pulled out Barrett’s old financial records. “He helped you disappear. Protected you.”
Clara read the documents with shaking hands. “David saved my life. Wheeler was going to kill me.”
“What did you see?” Dax asked gently.
“Everything. Wheeler’s men beating George Preston. Heard them threaten him. Saw him collapse.” Clara’s voice shook. “I tried to help but he died before the ambulance came.”
“Will you testify?” Quinn asked.
“I have children. If Wheeler finds me—”
“We can protect you. Federal witness protection. New identities.” Dax stepped closer, gentle but insistent. “Wheeler will be in prison. Unable to hurt you or your kids.”
Clara was quiet for a long time. Then, “Your father made me promise something. If anyone ever came looking—if it was you—I should help. Because you deserved to know the truth.”
Quinn’s tears started fresh. “He said that?”
“He mentioned you a few times. How proud he was. How brave you were.” Clara’s own tears fell. “I’ll testify. For David. And for everyone else Wheeler hurt.”
They spent an hour getting Clara’s statement, coordinating protection. By the time they left, it was nearly four o’clock.
Five hours back to Blackridge.
Quinn was silent the entire drive, staring out the window. Her phone rang twice. Nathan with updates. Her grandmother’s breathing was getting worse.
“We’re not going to make it,” Quinn whispered. “She’s going to die before I get there.”
“We’re going as fast as we can.” Dax pushed the speed limit, his hands tight on the wheel.
“It’s not fast enough.” Her voice broke as she stared out the window, chewing her thumbnail. “Nothing’s ever fast enough.”
They pulled into Blackridge just after nine and into her grandmother’s driveaway a few minutes later. Quinn was out of the truck before it fully stopped, running for the house.
Dax followed, his heart pounding, his hands aching to offer some form of comfort though he knew nothing he could offer would ever be enough.
Inside, Nathan met them with grim eyes. “She’s still holding on. Barely. But she’s waiting for Quinn.”
Quinn ran down the hall. Dax stayed back, giving them privacy.
But he could hear Quinn’s sobs. Could hear her begging her grandmother to stay.
And knew that tomorrow, everything would change.