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“Then I’ll go to the bookstore myself.” She steps in front of me, color returning to her face as her patience breaks. “You can’t keep me locked behind your gates every time somebody threatens your property.”

I step closer, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “Today I can, because the people behind this attacked us on the road while one of them breached my property.”

She begins another argument, but her phone rings. Birdie’s name appears on the screen, and Cassie answers before the second tone.

“Did Connor go through any of the boxes?” she asks.

Birdie’s voice comes through the speaker. “I talked to the fundraiser organizer. Connor helped unload them, and Cass, one of the boxes was already open when we got here.”

Cassie meets my eyes. “Was anything missing?”

“I don’t know. Harris photographed the box before we moved it, and Cole checked the room. I started with the books on top.” Paper rustles near Birdie’s phone. “Connor wrote on the first page of one of them.”

“What did he write?” Cassie asks. Her free hand finds my forearm and closes around it.

“Five account numbers and the initials R.W. I’m sending you a picture now.”

The message arrives while Birdie remains on the call. Cassie opens the photograph and enlarges the handwriting inside the cover of an old hardcover. Five account numbers run down the page, followed by two capital letters: R.W.

Cassie lifts her face to mine. Shock gives way to certainty as every prepared answer from the gas station call returns. “Rick Whitmore.”

I take out my phone and call Reid. He answers almost at once.

“Make certain Rick accepts the invitation,” I tell him.

13

CASSIE

Rick Whitmore’s initials remain on my phone screen while Andrei finishes his call to Reid. Five account numbers run down the photographed page in Connor’s familiar handwriting, followed by the letters R.W. Connor could have written Rick’s full name. He chose two letters instead, as if even putting it on paper was risky.

The closed produce stand sits beside the highway under a low gray sky. Rain has soaked the empty crates stacked beneath its awning, and Drew’s SUV blocks the entrance while Benitez checks the scrape on our passenger-side mirror. A few minutes ago, another vehicle tried to force us into a guardrail. Now Connor’s handwriting is giving me a reason to get back in the car.

Andrei lowers his phone. “Reid will speak to Rick tonight.”

“I’m going to the bookstore.” I enlarge the photograph again, although the numbers still don’t make sense the longer I stare at them. “Birdie found one book. There could be more.”

Andrei looks past me toward the road where the SUV disappeared. His jaw tightens, and when he turns back, his eyes are cold. “I heard you the first time.”

“Then you also heard me say I’m going tonight.” I meet his eyes and refuse to back down.

Drew approaches before Andrei answers. Rain clings to his close-cut brown hair, and he holds his phone against his black jacket. “Leo has everyone away from the equipment barn. The fire department is checking the fuel area, and the deputies are taking statements from the patrol.”

Andrei turns toward him. “Go back with Benitez. I want to know how that man got through the fence.”

Drew nods in my direction. “You’re taking Cassie to Aldermere?”

“Yes,” Andrei says.

I fold my arms. “I appreciate being included in this discussion about where I’m going.”

Andrei looks back at me, his gray eyes burning into mine. “You made your decision. I’m making mine.”

“That sounds promising until I remember you make most of them for me.”

Andrei rubs a hand over his face, but Drew’s phone rings before he can answer. Drew steps away, leaving us beside the open passenger door. Up close, I can see the scar beneath Andrei’s jaw. Less than an hour ago, he held my hand while that SUV came toward us, then told Drew exactly what to do as if he’d handled an attack like this before. I want to know how he learned.

“Murphy’s coming with us,” I insist.