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His hand stops above the screen. “Cassie.”

“I’m not saying I’ll search the store alone.” I hate that I need to say it, but I can hear yesterday’s lock turning again. “Harris is there, and you said Drew was assigning another man. We can go with them.”

Andrei considers me without answering. His phone vibrates before I can insist, and he checks the screen.

“It’s Drew,” he says. “He’s reviewing the bookstore footage now. I’ll ask whether anyone has touched those boxes.”

I pull out my phone to find the fundraiser organizer’s number. Before I can open my contacts, Rick Whitmore’s name fills the screen.

Rick has called twice since Connor disappeared, each time with a careful voice and an apology for knowing so little. For one foolish moment, I believe this call will be different enough to make the last six days disappear.

“It’s Rick,” I tell Andrei.

He steps away from the production doors. “Answer.”

I put the call on speaker. “Rick, did you find him?”

“I may have found where he was this morning.” Excitement breaks through his usual calm. “Cassie, Connor’s bank card was used at a gas station east of Seattle.”

“What?” I grip the phone with both hands. “When?”

“I asked our fraud department to flag any activity after you reported Connor missing. A charge went through on Connor’s card at seven forty-two this morning.”

Andrei’s face changes, though he says nothing. I hear the question he would ask and ask it myself.

“Did anyone see Connor?”

“We haven’t spoken to the station staff yet. I have the address, and I’m sending it to you now.”

My phone vibrates with a message. The station sits off a highway leading toward the foothills, far enough from Seattle that Connor would have needed a reason to go there. I search the address on the map and find a small building beside a fuel pump and a row of parking spaces.

“How do you know it was his card?” I ask.

“The charge is on Connor’s account.”

“That only proves someone used the card.”

Rick pauses. “I know. I don’t want to give you false hope. But it’s the first activity we’ve found since Tuesday, and I thought you would want to know.”

“I do.” My voice sounds far away. “Did you call the police?”

“I’m sending them the information now.”

I swallow my next question. “Call me when they respond.”

“I will.” His voice softens. “Connor may have stopped there himself, Cassie. Let’s find out before we decide what it means.”

The call ends. I stare at the map until the station’s name blurs. A car could be parked outside. Connor could be inside buying coffee, irritated that his card has alerted half the people searching for him.

I tap his name before I can talk myself out of hoping. Andrei remains beside me while the call rings once, twice, then continues until Connor’s voicemail answers.

“Con, it’s me.” I turn away from Andrei and press the phone closer to my ear. “Rick found a charge on your card. If you made it, call me. Please.”

I end the call and check the map again. If I leave now, I could reach the station before lunch.

“I’m going,” I tell Andrei.

“We need to know how the payment was made.”