CHAPTER SEVEN
Winter
Because it seems like the best place to go when you need information, we head for the local library. After an hour of looking through archived news articles, we shift to the computers and try online searches.
"No Igor Rhodes anywhere in Maine." Sighing, I sit back in the chair and stare at the library's computer screen.
Next to me, Alec's face bunches. He's been on his own computer, looking for leads.
"I guess he's someone who doesn't want to be found," he says.
I scrub my face. The internet should be our best bet for locating someone, and yet it's taken us to a dead end.
"We just need to ask around some more," I say.
He nods, but there's no spirit in it. We've already tried asking around. If only we knew where to start, maybe we'd have a chance. Instead, it feels like we're randomly bouncing around this city.
A bell rings, and a voice comes over the speakers announcing that the library will close in ten minutes.