Page 70 of Beneath the Surface

“We watch first. Confirm it’s her. Then we make contact carefully.” Dax scanned the area. “Carson sent me a photo from her old employee ID.”

They waited. An hour passed. Then another.

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.”