“This woman?” Sometimes fate didn’t bite you in the ass, Eve thought, but gave it a nice, sweet kiss. “The one in the photo?”
“Yes. She was in a hurry, seemed upset.”
“Did you arrange for transportation?”
“Ah… no. She said someone was picking her up, but she wanted a printout of her bill. I remember, as she seemed upset. I asked if there was anything I could do to help.”
“She said?”
“No, thank you—polite—but she was taking care of that herself. Is that helpful?”
“It’s very helpful. There would’ve been a doorman on duty.”
“Of course.”
“Is he or she on tonight?”
“I’m not sure, but I can check.”
“If you could, and show the photo. It would also help if I know what car service picked her up.”
“Just give me another minute.”
More coffee, more pacing, more thinking.
“Lieutenant, Allen was on, and did see her leave. He believes she got into a private car, a sedan. Not a car service, but a private car, a late-model Mercedes sedan. He didn’t notice the driver.”
“That’s fine, that’s good. You’ve been a tremendous help, thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
She headed to Roarke’s office.
He sat, fingers flying over keys, his hair tied back, sleeves rolled up. And muttering to himself, mostly curses that spanned both English and Irish.
He said, “What?” And didn’t sound pleased.
“I wouldn’t interrupt, but I have stuff that may be helpful.”
“All right then.” He stopped, shoved at his hair. “Be helpful then.”
“I’ve confirmed Magdelana as the last straw on Henry’s last marriage, and as the smirker in New York last December. She went by Sabrina Fancy. Henry flew her in on one of his personal privates from London. Then, after her stay, flew her out to Sorrento, Italy.”
“Sorrento.” He picked up his coffee and looked more interested.
“Does that pop anything for you?”
“Not right off, but I’ll push there.”
“I don’t have anything, yet, on further travel under that name. But I do have a Delaney Lynn, on a Luxe Travel private, from Savannah to Sorrento in July.”
“Ah, well then, that’s a lovely connection, isn’t it now?”
“Yeah, it is. She stayed a few days, then flew to New York.”
“To look over the job, of course. You may find she made her way onto the grounds. Floral delivery, messenger service, or the like.”
“Okay. She came back, same way, a couple days before the break-in, and under Della Lane, stayed at your hotel. The Palace. That’s confirmed by Pilar Vincenti at the desk, who was really helpful. You should toss her a bonus. She checked out Saturday evening—seemed upset. Someone in a Mercedes sedan picked her up. I can’t find any travel for her out of New York.”
