Chapter 15 #3
“Yes, you can.” Dax’s voice was rough with his own unshed tears. “You’re the strongest person I know, Quinn. You can do this.” Then softer, he said, “I can’t do this alone.”
“He’s gone. They’re all gone. And Gran—” She couldn’t finish.
“I know. I know it hurts. But you’re not alone. You have me. You have Nathan. You have an entire folder of witnesses who trusted your father to tell their stories. You have everything you need to end this.”
Quinn pulled back, wiping at her face with shaking hands. “Did you hear what he said? About not sacrificing myself? About walking away?”
He looked into her eyes, and she knew he understood. “Yeah.”
She could feel a wildness inside, ready to take flight, and it came out in the desperate sound of her words. Because he was right. “I can’t do that. I can’t walk away. Not when I’m this close.”
“I know.” Dax cupped her face, his thumbs wiping gently at the falling tears. “But promise me something. Promise me you won’t let this destroy you. Promise me that when this is over—when Wheeler’s behind bars and justice is served—you’ll let yourself heal. Let yourself be happy.”
Quinn looked into his eyes and saw her own pain reflected back. Dax had lost just as much as she had. Maybe more. And he was still standing. Still fighting.
Still loving, despite the risk.
“I promise,” she whispered. “If you promise the same thing.”
“Deal,” he said automatically.
He kissed her softly, tenderly, and for just a moment the grief receded enough for Quinn to breathe.
“We should copy these files,” Dax said when they finally pulled apart. “Multiple backups. Can’t risk losing them.”
Quinn nodded, wiping her eyes. “Yeah. And we should call the DA. Get a meeting scheduled for as soon as we’re back in Blackridge.”
“We need to get this evidence into official hands. Protected. Wheeler can’t make it disappear if it’s already on the record.”
They spent the next hour copying the files, organizing them, preparing them for presentation. Quinn forced herself to focus on the work, on the task at hand. Grief could wait. Her father’s video could be watched again later, when she was alone and could process it fully.
Right now, she had a job to do.
By the time they left the bank, it was after four o’clock. The drive back to Blackridge would take another five hours. They wouldn’t be home until after nine.
Quinn’s phone rang as they were getting into the truck.
Her heart stopped seeing Nathan’s name on the screen. Her hands shook as she answered.
“Quinn.” Nathan’s voice was strained. “Your gran—”
Her hand flew to her chest, pressing over her thundering heart. “Is she—?”
“She’s okay. Still alive. But she’s asking for you. Her breathing’s getting worse again. You should...you should hurry.”
“We’re leaving Portland now. We’ll be there as fast as we can.”
“Drive safe. I’ll tell her you’re coming.”
Quinn hung up and looked at Dax, panic rising in her chest. “We need to go. Now.”
“We will.” He started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. “We’ll get there, Quinn. We’ll get there in time.” He reached for her hand, grasping it firmly, a silent reassurance that he was there for her, that they would make it.
But as they drove back toward Blackridge, Quinn couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out.
For her grandmother.
For the case.
For everything.
The USB drive felt heavy in her pocket. Her father’s final gift. The weapon that would finally bring down James Wheeler.
She just had to get home first.
Had to see her grandmother one more time.
Had to tell her they’d done it. They’d found everything. They were going to win.
Hold on, Gran, Quinn thought as the miles passed. Just hold on a little longer.
Please.
***
They made it back to Blackridge at 9:47 PM.
Quinn was out of the truck before Dax had fully stopped, running for the house.
Nathan met her at the door, his expression grave. “She’s been waiting for you. Wouldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t rest. Just kept asking when you’d be home.”
Quinn ran down the hallway to her grandmother’s room.
Her grandmother lay in the bed, her breathing labored and wet-sounding. But her eyes were open. Watching the door.
Waiting.
“Gran.” Quinn dropped to her knees beside the bed, taking her grandmother’s hand. “I’m here. I’m back.”
“Quinny.” The word was barely a whisper. “You got it? Got what you needed?”
“Yes. We have everything. All of Dad’s evidence. All the witnesses. Everything we need to put Wheeler away forever.”
A faint smile touched her grandmother’s lips as she patted her hand. “Good. That’s...good.”
“You were right, Gran. About all of it. Dad left me everything I needed. He believed in me. Just like you did.”
“So proud.” Her grandmother’s hand squeezed her fingers weakly. “Both of us...so proud.”
Quinn’s tears fell onto their joined hands. “I’m going to finish it, Gran. I’m going to make sure Wheeler pays for what he did. To Dad. To you. To all of us.”
“I know.” Her grandmother’s eyes drifted closed. “I know you will.”
Quinn sat there, holding her grandmother’s hand, listening to those labored breaths, and prayed for just a little more time.
Just a little longer.
But even as she prayed, she knew.
Time was running out.