New York to Dallas (In Death #33)(87)

He glanced at it. “Measurements. Inseam, sleeve, waist, so on from the looks of it. He’s ordering a suit.”

“The numbers and Baker and Hugh.”

“Men’s shop,” Roarke told her, “known for its excellent tailoring.” Roarke pulled out his PPC, did a quick run. “There’s only one in Dallas.”

“He wants clothes, good clothes. Doesn’t have time to fiddle with fittings and all that. So he has her take care of it. Has his suits waiting for him when he gets here. No.” She closed her eyes a moment, brought New York back. “He was wearing a suit, sharp-looking gray suit, flashy red tie, when I saw him in the crowd at the medals ceremony. He had her order the suits, and send at least one of them to New York. He wanted to look good when he let me catch a glimpse.”

“He went to a lot of trouble to impress you.”

“That’s his problem now, that’s his chink. He’s complicating things to take jabs at me. Engage, taunt, humiliate, instead of just moving in for the knockout.”

She opened the first note. “He’d kill her if he already hadn’t. She printed out some of their e-coms. ‘Miss you, too, baby doll,’ ” she read. “ ‘Countdown D-minus-30. Time to arrange my flight into your arms. Reserve private, Franklin J. Milo. I’ll need those docs, sweetheart, so you get that Cecil on the stick! I don’t want to get to the drop and find an empty box.

“ ‘The wait’s almost over. Milo needs his things waiting at the hotel so he can get cleaned up and changed before he flies to you. We’ll go back there one day, stay in the penthouse and drink a champagne toast to us.

“ ‘Keep an eye on our Melinda, and take good care of my baby doll. I’ll write next week with the next steps. Almost there!

“ ‘SWAK times two.’ ”

She frowned. “SWAK?”

“Sealed with a kiss—times two.”

“Eeww. He wrote it out. He actually wrote this shit down. Didn’t trust her to remember. Quick PS reminding her to wipe, but he got sloppy because he didn’t think she was smart enough to remember the details. Maybe she’d dropped the ball a time or two.”

She opened another. “They’re little love notes with instructions sprinkled through the mush. Here he’s telling her how to outfit what he calls the guest room. Sick f**k. Tells her to see Greek in Waco for the bracelets. Shackles. And Bruster B in Fort Worth for soundproofing.”

“Does any of this help you now? You’ve found his place.”

She looked up as pieces began to link together in her head. “He’s got another one. He’s got another place in Dallas, and he’d want some of the same there. Would he use the same people? Maybe not. But . . . We find them, we find out more.”

She pulled out her ’link, tagged Peabody.

“Franklin J. Milo—that’s the ID McQueen used to book his transpo—private shuttle—and a hotel room. A hotel with a penthouse. Find them.”

“Okay, but—”

“It’s just tying the ends, Peabody. It may not lead anywhere, but let’s tie it up tight. And find Baker and Hugh, men’s clothing in New York. See if he picked up any clothes there. And what transportation he used to get to the shuttle. I’ll pick it up from here.”

“Okay, got it. Listen. Tray Schuster came back in. They didn’t notice—pretty understandable—on the day they were attacked, but they’re missing a duffel, an old ’link they hadn’t gotten around to recycling, a new pair of navy blue skids, a shirt Julie had boxed up for her brother’s birthday. A bunch of little things. I’m going to send you an inventory.”

“Things that would be useful for checking in a hotel. When you find the hotel, see if he left anything behind in his room. I’ve got to get on this from here.”

“You look beat,” Peabody commented.

“Not yet, I’m not.” She clicked off. “Let’s take this to Ricchio, let him and the feds start working on tracking down the names. We’d better go by the hospital first. We can probably pass the box to somebody there.”

Peabody was right, Roarke thought as she resealed the door. She looked beat. Pale and strained.

“You need a couple hours down. You know you do.”

“I’ll take it when I can. I can’t stop yet.” She got in the car. “I’ll down a booster if I need it.”

“A booster isn’t what you need. I’m not going to press you, yet. Especially not if you agree once you’ve talked to Melinda and Darlie you’ll go back to the hotel if there’s nothing immediate. You’d rather work there anyway.”

Since she’d already planned to do just that, it wasn’t hard to go along. “If you agree to try not to tranq me.”

“That’s a tough bargain, a hard line. Agreed.”

“That was easy. Too easy.”

“I’ll let Mira tranq you.”

She managed a weak laugh. “I can take Mira.”

“I imagine she’s wily.”

So was he, he thought, as he pulled her directly to Vending at the hospital. “Pick something.”

“I’m not really—”

“You may not think you’re hungry, but you need food. I’ll pick. Veggie-and-cheese pocket. Some protein,” he said as it slid out of the tray.