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“Ask what you need to ask, but don’t tell him what we suspect.”

Cassie’s eyebrows pull together, but she nods. “Fine. I’ll ask why he knew first and let him do the talking.” She taps Rick’s number and turns on the speaker.

Rick answers on the second ring. “Cassie, are you at the station?”

“Yes, and the man using Connor’s card wasn’t Connor.” Her voice has lost its earlier uncertainty. “Why did you present the charge as hopeful news before anyone verified who made it?”

“I’m sorry it wasn’t him.” Rick pauses as though choosing each word from a prepared speech. “I told you the transaction might not belong to Connor. I called because I believed you deserved to know as soon as the fraud department alerted me.”

“You told me Connor may have stopped here himself.”

“Because that remained possible at the time. I never intended to mislead you.”

Cassie looks at me, anger lifting her chin. “You knew the exact time and location before the police handling Connor’s report contacted me. How did you get the information so fast?”

“As I explained, I asked our fraud team to flag his accounts. They contacted me when the charge appeared. I was going —”

“Who from the fraud department contacted you?” I interrupt.

A brief silence follows before Rick answers. “Andrei, banking regulations prevent me from discussing a customer’s private account with anyone who isn’t authorized.”

“I’m not asking for Connor’s account information,” I say, moving closer to the phone. “I’m asking who contacted you and when.”

“The alert came through our internal system,” Rick replies after a pause. “I would need to review the notification before giving you any details.”

“Why was it sent to you personally?” I ask, giving him no time to redirect the conversation.

“As Connor’s manager, I requested that our fraud team monitor his accounts after Cassie reported him missing.” His tone stays pleasant, but the warmth he used with Cassie is gone. “I believed it was the responsible thing to do.”

I exchange a glance with Cassie. “What time did you receive the alert?”

Rick hesitates again. “I don’t recall the exact time.”

“You knew the time and location of the transaction when you called Cassie.” I lower my voice, and his breathing changes on the other end. “You shouldn’t need to review anything to remember when you learned about it.”

“I won’t give you information from a bank notification until I’ve verified it,” Rick says. “I’ll retrieve the record and call Cassie later.”

“Do that. We’ll expect the time the alert reached you, how it was delivered, and why it was routed directly to you.”

Rick addresses her rather than me. “Cassie, I know this is upsetting. I was trying to help.”

“Then help by answering us,” she says. “Call me when you have the records.”

She ends the call and stares at the dark screen. “He had those answers ready.”

“That allowed him to avoid giving us facts.”

“I should’ve heard it the first time.” She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I wanted the man in that video to be Connor so badly that I got in the car before I asked why Rick knew first.”

“Hope isn’t a failure in judgment.”

Her eyes open. “It can be when somebody knows how to use it.”

Rick knows exactly how to use her hope. He sounds helpful as he steers her toward the answer he wants her to accept. My first instinct is to handle him the way I would have years ago. I could intercept him in the bank garage, put him in a room where no one could hear him, and have the truth before nightfall. Tougher men than Rick Whitmore have talked once fear stripped away their rehearsed answers.

Cassie’s shoulder remains close to mine, and the officer stands twenty feet away. Neither knows how easily I could arrange Rick’s disappearance, or how little sleep I would lose over the methods required to make him speak.

I call Reid instead, and he answers from the vineyard office. “What did you find?”