Page 68 of Beneath the Surface

“You should rest,” he tried again, wanting to reach out and fold her into his arms, but something he couldn’t name stopped him. Doubt maybe, or fear. Fear that she’d push him away.

“Stop telling me what I should do.” Quinn set down the glass harder than necessary. “I don’t need you to protect me or make decisions for me. I need—” She broke off, pressed her hands to her face. “I don’t even know what I need anymore.”

“Tell me. Tell me what you need.”

“I need my grandmother not to be dying. I need Wheeler to be in prison. I need my father back.” Her voice rose with each word, her eyes squeezing shut with pain he could only imagine. “I need things I can’t have. So what does it matter what I need?”

“It matters to me.”

“Does it? Because you won’t even try, Dax. You say you care but you won’t actually do anything about it.” She was crying now, angry tears, hands fisted as the tension in the room rose. “You keep one foot out the door, ready to run the second things get hard.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” she snapped, slamming her fist on the counter and spinning to face him. “You kissed me back. You held me. And now what? Are you going to pull away again? Tell me it was a mistake?” Her amber eyes were fierce through the tears. “Because if you are, just do it now. Don’t wait until I’m more invested. Don’t make me hope.”

Dax’s chest felt like it was being crushed as each breath became harder to take. Because she was right. He’d been yo-yoing her emotions for days. Pulling her close, pushing her away. Hot and cold.

And he was worried about her doing the same thing to him…

“I’m scared,” he admitted quietly.

“So am I. But I’m here anyway.” Quinn wiped her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. “That’s what bravery is, Dax. Being terrified and doing it anyway.”

“And if I lose you—”

“You’re already losing me. Right now. With this.” Glaring at him now, she gestured between them. “Every time you pull away, I lose a little more hope. A little more faith that this could be something.”

The truth of it hit him like a physical blow.

Before he could respond, his phone rang. He hated to answer, but considering everything that was going on… He gave her an apologetic look and pulled out his phone. Carson.

“I need to take this,” Dax said.

Quinn nodded, already resigned to another unfinished moment, and turned away. Started making coffee even though it was two in the morning. Needing something to do with her hands. He understood the feeling.

Dax sighed and stepped into the living room. “Black, what’ve you got?”

“I’ve been digging into Wheeler’s associates. Found something interesting.” Carson’s voice was energized despite thelate hour. “There’s a name that keeps popping up in Barrett’s notes. Clara Mendez. Property manager at Riverside Apartments where one of Wheeler’s suspicious deaths occurred.”

“I remember. Elderly tenant. Heart attack after Wheeler tried to force him out.”

“Right. George Preston. But get this. Clara Mendez disappeared a few weeks after Preston’s death. Just quit her job and vanished. No forwarding address. No trace.”

Dax’s mind raced. “Barrett helped her disappear.”

“That’s what I’m thinking. And if she witnessed something at Riverside—”

“She’s our key witness.” Dax glanced toward the kitchen where Quinn was aggressively stirring coffee. “Can you track her?”

“I’ve got her social security number. If she’s using it anywhere, I can find her. Give me a few hours.”

After hanging up, Dax returned to the kitchen. Quinn handed him a mug of coffee without comment.

“That was Carson. He thinks he’s found our witness. Clara Mendez.”

Quinn’s eyes sharpened. “The property manager?”

“Yeah. She disappeared after George Preston’s death. Carson thinks your father helped her.”