Page 71 of Beneath the Surface

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.”