Page 134 of Beneath the Surface

“Always.” His eyes were already drooping, the pain medication pulling him back under. “Love you, sunshine.”

“Love you too.”

Quinn forced herself to leave, to let the nurse do her job. She walked back through the ICU, through the maze of corridors, back to the waiting room where—

Captain Holloway was waiting.

He stood when he saw her, his expression grave. “Ms. Barrett. I heard Mercer made it through surgery.”

“He did.” Quinn hugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “He’s going to be okay. Eventually.”

“Good. That’s good.” Holloway gestured to the chairs. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Quinn sat, exhaustion pulling at her bones. “Is this about my statement? I already told the officers everything—”

“It’s about Wheeler.” Holloway settled into the chair beside her. “We’ve been processing his men. Wade—the one you shot—survived. And he’s talking.”

Quinn’s head came up. “Talking?”

“Singing like a canary, actually. Gave up everything.” Holloway’s expression was filled with grim satisfaction. “Wheeler’s entire operation. The murders. The bribes. The intimidation. Wade was Wheeler’s head of security for fifteen years. He knows where all the bodies are buried—literally.”

“He’s testifying?” she asked, her brows pulling together in disbelief.

“In exchange for a reduced sentence, yes. Wade’s testimony directly ties Wheeler to your father’s murder, to Leesa Fine’s death, to Thomas Crane, to George Preston.” Holloway ticked them off on his fingers. “We have Wade’s testimony. We have Clara Mendez’s testimony. We have your father’s evidence. We have the physical evidence from tonight’s kidnapping and attempted murder.”

Quinn felt something shift in her chest. Hope. Real, solid hope.

“Is it enough?” she asked. “Enough to convict?”

“More than enough. DA Sanders is filing additional charges tomorrow morning. First-degree murder. Multiple counts. Kidnapping. Attempted murder of a police officer. Witness tampering.” Holloway leaned forward. “Quinn, Wheeler’s not walking away from this. Not with money. Not with lawyers. Not with anything.”

“He’s going to prison.”

“For the rest of his life.” Holloway’s voice was certain. “Justice for your father. For all of them.”

Quinn felt tears burning again, but these were different. These weren’t grief or fear.

These were relief. Resolution. The end of a journey that had started the day her grandmother told her the truth.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for believing me. For helping us.”

“Thank Mercer. He’s the one who broke the case wide open. Even if he did it by going completely rogue and nearly getting himself killed.” Holloway’s expression was complicated—anger and respect mixed together. “He’s suspended, by the way. Pending an investigation into tonight’s actions.”

“But he saved my life—”

“I know. And when the investigation is over, that’ll be taken into account. But he disobeyed direct orders, went into an active situation without backup, and discharged his weapon resulting in multiple casualties.” Holloway held up a hand as Quinn started to protest. “It’s procedure, Quinn. He knows that. But between you and me? I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he comes out of this with a medal instead of a pink slip.”

Quinn nodded, too tired to argue.

“Get some rest,” Holloway said, standing. “And Quinn? When you write about this, about your father’s investigation. I hope you’ll tell the whole story. Including tonight. People need to know what Wheeler did. What your father tried to stop.”

“I will.” Quinn’s voice was firm despite her exhaustion. “Every word of it.”

After Holloway left, Quinn sat alone in the waiting room and finally let herself process it all.

Wheeler was in custody. His men were testifying against him. The evidence was overwhelming. Justice was coming—real, actual justice for her father, for Leesa, for all of Wheeler’s victims.

And Dax was alive. Hurt, but alive. And they’d talked. Really talked. About his fear. About her needs. About how to build something real together.