No one small-time, and very likely someone already known. A relationship? Maybe personal and professional.
She glanced at Roarke’s office, then shook her head. No, let him do what he did. She’d handle this.
Sitting again, she pored through the Interpol files for something that clicked. Broker, thief with connections in Sorrento. Empty, she widened it to Italy.
“Okay, try another way.” She searched for more travel for Sabrina Fancy, and found nothing. Restarted, trying privates from Savannah, Georgia, to Sorrento. She went through January, February, March.
Programmed more coffee.
April, May, June. Goddamn it.
And hit in July.
“Delaney Lynn, single passenger, Savannah to Sorrento—Sorrento’s it—July 15, return flight, bam, New York City, July 20. Flight from New York to Savannah, July 25.”
She sat back, closed her eyes. “That’s a big-ass bang. Needed to have a look at the setup, spend a few days watching, casing, making sureabout the security system. Who paid the freight? Luxe Travel private. Anybody with enough money can book from them.”
She contacted Luxe Travel, and got what she’d expected. No one authorized to get or give that information. Contact during regular business hours, with a warrant.
“Fine, fine, fine.”
She accepted that, and got another boost when she found Delaney Lynn’s September travel to New York. Two days before the break-in. Return flight canceled.
“Huh.”
That had her up and pacing again.
“Why aren’t you gone? Did you decide to stay for the auction? Because I really think it’s here. Magdelana needs it to be here, in Roarke’s adopted city.
“Maybe, maybe. Or shit, we’re going to find your body floating in the East River. Maybe she had Kruger take care of you. Let’s find out where you stayed. High-end hotels. Nobody’s going to pinch dollars on this job.”
She started with the Roarke Palace. Definitely highest of high-end, plus, they wouldn’t give her the brush-off.
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, we have no one registered under the name of Delaney Lynn.”
“Try Jenna Lynn Delaney, and variations of that name.”
“Give me a moment, please.”
On hold, Eve paced.
“Lieutenant.”
“Right here.”
“I did find a Della Lane who checked in on the date you wanted. She checked out on Saturday evening—requested late checkout. She had a one-bedroom suite on the Premium level.”
“I’m going to send you a picture. I need you to show it to anyone whomight have had contact with her. Maid service, room service, check-in or -out.”
“Of course.”
“What was your name again?”
“Pilar Vincenti.”
“Ms. Vincenti, I’d like you to contact me if anyone recognizes this woman.”
“Oh. Well, actually, I do. I was on Saturday evening. I checked her out myself.”
