???
Cesare soon finished his inspection of the refuge, and sent a picture of his “to do list” to Monty.
Cesare: Security is shit here. I want it fixed this afternoon.
Monty: Consider it done.
Cesare returned to the office to see Sabrina still peacefully sleeping. Travis hadn’t been entirely wrong. Sabrina had lived here her whole life, and when Cesare left to go home, Sabrina would no doubt want to stay in Kittery. He was inclined to drop an obscene amount of money on the marine rescue, in part to show he was serious about his intentions with her. And yet, he was just as inclined to burn it to the ground so she’d have less to leave behind when he dragged her ass back to Philly.
Cesare closed his eyes and breathed for a moment, trying to regain control over his own thoughts. He could not kidnapSabrina. Cesare didn’t want her if she wasn’t willing. He would have to persuade her.
Cesare silently padded over to the desk he’d been using and wrote a note on a large piece of yellow notepad paper.
You were too beautiful to wake- I had to run some errands. Call me when you wake up and tell me what you want for dinner. I’ll be out, but I want to have something delivered for you to eat. You may hear some noise- it’s a few repairs happening at my request. Consider it a small donation to the refuge. A gift.
Cesare left the note prominently displayed on the desk next to Sabrina’s cell phone, stealing one last glimpse of her lying asleep in bed, lips slightly parted and the curves of her body outlined underneath the thin covers.
With a muttered curse, Cesare left the room.
Half an hour later, he walked into York Public Library, eyes peeled for the director. He found Diane in a downstairs youth room he hadn’t seen before. She was kneeling at eye level with a young boy sitting sullenly on a couch. Diane seemed to be listening very intently to what the boy was saying. She pulled a protein bar out of her pocket and handed it to him. Cesare watched with furrowed brows as he wolfed it down.
“Cesare!” She exclaimed as soon as she noticed him.
“Diane, how are you?” He grinned.
“I’m doing well, thank you. What are we looking for today?” She asked him curiously.
“I have a few more questions about local history. I was wondering if you might be available for a few minutes?” He asked.
Diane’s gaze narrowed. “Are you looking for literary sources ortea?” She queried.
Cesare gave a rueful shrug. “Both.”
“Hmmm.” Diane nodded. “I have both.” She grinned.
They found their way into an empty boardroom, and Cesare relayed the questions he had.
Diane’s brow furrowed. “We wouldn’t have any information about Portsmouth in that way.” She shook her head. “But I can tell you who the police chief was at the time.”
Cesare’s brows lifted in interest. “Really?”
“It was my cousin, Harold. Harry, for short.” She nodded with a nostalgic smile.
“Your cousin?” Cesare shook his head, amused. “It is a small world, no? Where could I find Harry?” He asked.
Diane sighed. “I’m sorry, Cesare.” This time her face became pinched and somewhat saddened. “He passed away a few years ago.”
Cesare sighed in disappointment, then looked back at Diane. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” She nodded. “Is this about the girl you were looking for around Kennebunk?” She asked carefully.
Cesare nodded.
“I would talk to Jason Rosenbaum.” She nodded. “He was a selectman, then he was a school superintendent. Hewas involved in a lot of community projects, and a lot ofcompromises.” She looked at him pointedly.
“What kind of compromises?” Cesare asked carefully.
“He had a public works contract for a while. A lot of high schoolers that could have found themselves in front of a judge, instead found themselvesvolunteeringto clean trash up on the side of the road.”
