Cesare was silent for a moment, debating how much he was willing to compromise, before sighing. “I’ll give them a call when I’m done here.”
“See?” Cesare Sr. needled. “How difficult did that need to be?”
“Is there anything else you wanted?” Cesare asked as they pulled up to the hotel.
“No, but you should know the front desk gave me your room number so I could send you a gift package. Very bad operating procedure. You should stay somewhere that knows how to keep their employees’ mouths shut.”
Cesare closed his eyes, pinching the skin between his brows in exasperation. “I’ve got Monty.”
“Monty is Plan B. I’ve taught you better. Stay somewhere else.” The phone went dead, and Cesare looked up at Monty, who pretended he hadn’t heard a word.
“Monty, are you aware of any communication that would have informed my father of where we’re staying?” Cesare asked.
“No, boss.” Monty immediately responded. “Do you want me to look into it?”
“Man’s a menace.” Cesare muttered. “No, don’t bother. I’ll see you in the morning, Monty.”
???
Cesare was startled awake by someone pounding on the door of his hotel room just after five in the morning. He reached instinctively for the 9mm on the bedside table and flicked the safety off. Silently, Cesare approached the source of the disturbance; his weapon aimed firmly at the door.
A moment later, he recognized Dante’s voice coming from the other side, and Cesare immediately lowered the weapon with a scowl. He double checked through the peephole and swungopen the door with an aggravated growl. “Are you trying to get shot?”
“Not at the moment.” Dante shook his head seriously. “This can’t wait, and you weren’t answering your phone. What date was our missing Jane Doe picked up by CPS?”
Cesare grunted in annoyance, returning the gun to the nightstand. He gestured towards a stack of papers on his desk. “It’ll be in one of those files. Have you slept yet?”
“Off and on.” His younger brother shrugged. “I heard an interesting story in a bar tonight. Guy named Tom Crawford; drunk out of his mind. Everyone knew his name, and the bartender cut him off just before I arrived. Seemed like a regular occurrence. Long story short, he started talking about someone taking a baby from him, and that’s why he lost his job. Blamed everything else in his life on it too.”
Dante pulled out his phone, showing a photo. “Bartender said he’s always complaining about custody of his kid. Said his wife left with everything, including their son.”
Cesare let out a yawn as he motioned for Dante to get to the point.
“I found a newspaper article twenty years back. He was charged with a DUI after a car crash just outside of Portsmouth, in New Hampshire.”
“That’s twenty minutes from here.” Cesare nodded.
“Look at the plate in the photo.” Dante zoomed in on his smartphone’s screen, showing it to Cesare. It was grainy and dated, but the lettering was unmistakable.
“That’s a state vehicle.” Cesare frowned. “He was working for the state?”
“Bartender said Tom worked for CPS, for the state of Maine. Why would he be in New Hampshire at night with a work vehicle?”
“What’s the date of the crash?” Cesare asked.
“March 3rd, 2004.” Dante answered.
“You’re shitting me.” Cesare’s eyes widened as he rifled through the old hospital reports for Baby Jane Doe.
“Yeah. It sounded familiar, but without the hospital reports, the quickest way to verify it was to wake your ugly mug up.” Dante grinned.
“That late at night the only reason he’d be in New Hampshire would be to pick someone up or drop them off.” Cesare mused, thick brows drawing in concentration. “Found it.” He held up the paper in triumph. “Holy shit.” He exclaimed a moment later.
Cesare looked from his brother to the hospital notes and back to Dante. “The dates match. Picked up at 7:37pm from Portsmouth General by Dept. of Social Services, ME.”
“This guy has spent the last twenty years drunk in a bar, telling the world that someone took his baby, and everyone has assumed he’s talking about his family.” Dante replied grimly.
Cesare frowned. “There’s no way. It’s too easy.”
