"Successful?"
"Barely."
Marcus smiled.
"Best kind."
"He worked six days a week."
She looked down.
"He had this idea that mechanics deserved safer shops. Proper ventilation. Better lifts. Training. He got into arguments with owners because he wouldn't let young guys work under unsafe equipment."
"Sounds stubborn."
"He was exhausting."
Marcus laughed softly.
"He would've hated Harmon."
"Probably."
Elena's eyes filled.
"The morning he died, Sophie asked him to stay home."
Marcus said nothing.
"She was sick."
Elena continued.
"He told her he'd be back before dinner."
Her voice broke.
"She waited by the window until midnight."
Marcus looked away.
Now he understood some of Sophie's determination in the diner parking lot.
When you had once watched a person leave and never return, stopping another departure could become a desperate need.
"She still thinks she could've changed it somehow."
"She's seven."
"Trauma doesn't care."
Marcus nodded.
"Neither does guilt."
Elena looked at him.
There was history behind that sentence.
She did not ask.
Not yet.
The first real break in the Harmon investigation came from a woman named Jessica Torres.
Flash found her name in dozens of corporate meeting schedules.
Executive assistant to Anthony Breslin.
Twenty-six.
Three years with Harmon.
No criminal record.
No obvious political connections.
But her public social-media account told a story.
Sleepless-night posts.
Quotes about fear.
A deleted photo recovered from a cached page showing her outside a police station months earlier.
Then one sentence posted at 2:11 a.m. two weeks before Marcus's motorcycle was sabotaged.
Knowing the truth is useless when everyone who can help is owned.
Marcus did not contact her directly.
He gave her name to Patel.
Patel tried.
Jessica refused to speak.
Two days later, Elena suggested another approach.
"Let me call her."
Marcus frowned.
"Why you?"
"Because I'm not a cop."
"Neither am I."
"You're six-foot-three and look like you bury people in the desert."
"That's profiling."
"It's accurate profiling."
Marcus almost smiled.
Elena continued.
"I'm a widow with a seven-year-old."
"That doesn't make you safe."
"It might make me less frightening."
Jessica agreed to meet.
The location was a crowded coffee shop forty minutes away.
Patel knew about the meeting.
Marcus sat at a separate table.
Elena met Jessica first.
The young woman looked exhausted.
Dark circles under her eyes.
Hands that would not stop moving.
She refused coffee because she said caffeine made her anxiety worse.
"I shouldn't be here."
Elena nodded.
"Probably not."
Jessica blinked.
"I thought you were supposed to reassure me."
"I think lying to you would be disrespectful."
Jessica looked toward Marcus.
"He's staring."
"He's making sure nobody follows you."
"That's Marcus Hayes?"
"Yes."
"He looks..."
"Terrifying?"
Jessica nodded.
"He's nicer than he looks."
Marcus raised one eyebrow from across the room.
Elena smiled.
"He can also apparently hear everything."
Jessica almost laughed.
The tension eased slightly.
Then Elena placed a printed photograph on the table.
Ramon Ortiz with his children.
"Did you know him?"
Jessica's face changed.
"Not personally."
"But you know the name."
Jessica stared at the photograph.
"Yes."
"David Chen?"
Jessica closed her eyes.
"Please."
"Sarah Jennings?"