Sydney passed the money to Lilian and received a look of vexation in return. Only, for once, she wasn’t on the receiving end of Lilian’s annoyance. Actually, not once this whole evening had Lilian appeared put out with her. She’d almost seemed grateful for the help.

Neil certainly had been. He’d taken off a few minutes ago to find Indi, see if she needed any assistance at her stand. But he’d thanked her no less than three times in the past couple of hours, even complimented the way she’d arranged their wares.

“Hey, Syd.” Wilder strode up behind Patti Brighton-Smythe. She handed the woman her two dollars in change, then took a deep breath. Lifted her gaze.

Wilder read the question in her eyes. “He’s waiting for us. Over by the gazebo.”

She turned to Lilian, who nodded and waved them on. “Neil will be back soon.”

Okay. Okay. Time to do this. She moved out from behind their stand, glanced up at Wilder. “Have you talked to him yet?”

“Other than that phone call the other day and a quick greeting just a minute ago before I came to fetch you, no. I’d like to think I’m good at reading people, but I can’t get a pulse on the guy.”

Sydney fell in step beside Wilder as he veered around the line extending from a booth with a homemade sign displaying crooked letters. Lottie’s Moon Punch.

“Did Lil or Neil warn you about the moon punch? Don’t try it unless you’ve got the constitution of a sailor.”

“Spiked?”

“Try doused.” He steered her behind the gazebo.

“So what exactly are we hoping to get out of this conversation with CarleeAnn’s stepbrother?” Who might be her uncle. Who might be no relation at all.

“My hope is that seeing you will jog something in his memory. Or it’ll further cement the theory that CarleeAnn never had a child of her own.”

“Even if she didn’t, that doesn’t guarantee I’m Diana Muir’s daughter.”

She didn’t miss the tic in Wilder’s jaw. “No, but it’s a better lead than we’ve ever had before. I’ve followed up on every trail my dad ever tried. I’ve attempted to put a name and a face to the man Diana was seen with at the pub before she disappeared. I’ve tried to pinpoint where Diana was when she was gone—we know she was in Atlanta at one point, but that’s all we know. I’ve tried to puzzle together what drew her back to Muir Harbor the weekend of the accident. All to no avail.” He scraped his fingers through his hair. “The connection to CarleeAnn—at least it’s a new thread to tug on.”

He stopped near a towering tree, its burnt amber leaves lit by the sun, and pointed. “That’s him.”