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“I’ll ask when I get there.”

“If the card was used at a pump, the station may have footage. Drew can request it while we drive.” He takes out his phone. “The person who has Connor’s wallet could have made that purchase.”

“Connor could have made it.”

“Yes,” Andrei says. “Both are possible.”

“You heard Rick. This is the first sign of him in days.”

“I heard Rick report a card transaction. I want your brother to be alive at that station as much as you do, but I won’t tell you a payment proves it.”

The honesty hurts because it’s exactly what Connor would say. I slide my phone into my pocket before I can call Rick again and demand answers he doesn’t have.

“Why would anyone use the card now?” I ask, searching Andrei’s face.

“To buy fuel, to make us believe Connor traveled that road, or to draw us there.” Andrei messages Drew, then puts away his phone. “I’m going with you, and we’ll find out which answer is true.”

I tip my chin up. “I didn’t ask you to come.”

“You don’t have to.” His unyielding stare leaves no doubt that arguing will only delay us.

I want to argue because Andrei has already pushed his security into every part of my life. Unfortunately, he has people who can get camera footage, find a car, and make strangers answer questions. Finding Connor matters more than proving I can do this without him.

“Fine, but I hear everything Drew learns, including anything Rick tells you.”

“You’ll hear it with me,” Andrei promises.

I give him a reluctant nod. “I’m going to remember that.”

“I expect you to.”

He says it without smiling, and I have to look away. I came here believing I could keep my fear of him separate from how much I wanted him to touch me. Yesterday, a date on a piece of paper showed me how little I know about his past. Today, I watched him lean against a horse he loves and talk about the vineyard his parents built. Neither experience erases the other.

I call Birdie before we leave the winery. She answers on the second ring, and apparently cousin intuition has already warned her.

“What happened?”

“Rick called. Connor’s card was used at a gas station east of Seattle.”

Birdie goes silent, then asks, “Do they know whether Connor used it?”

“Not yet. Andrei and I are going to the station.”

“I’ll come with you.”

I look toward the vineyard road, wanting her beside me but knowing we can’t abandon the clue Dad gave us. “I need you to call the fundraiser organizer,” I say. “Find out how many cartons she brought and whether Connor helped unload them. I know he stopped by the store, but I can’t remember if the boxes were already there when he arrived.”

“Why?” Birdie asks. “Did you think of something?”

“Dad said Connor hid the important part where I always look first.” I pace to the edge of the pedestrian path. “I told Andrei about the boxes, and I want to know whether Connor touched them.”

“I’ll call her.” Purpose replaces the worry in Birdie’s voice. “Then I’ll go to the store with Harris and check.”

“Wait for the second guard,” I warn.

“I will, Cass.”

“And photograph everything before you move it.”