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“Your FBI friend was right. The suit is unusual. It’s custom.”
“She’s not my friend. I’m not supposed to be talking to her.” Poppy tells her about the agent and her weird talk of Holy Fools and Warren Harding.
“That’s some Malcolm Gladwell shit,” Chantelle says, as she pulls up something on her phone.
Poppy doesn’t understand the Gladwell reference but doesn’t say so. She’ll look it up later.
Chantelle continues: “The suit is expensive, bespoke tailoring.”
Poppy shakes her head, lost again.
“Custom-made, basically.” On her phone, Chantelle displays a blown-up image of a small label. It has a MARINANI BESPOKE, PHILADELPHIA, and a seven-digit number.
Poppy has a burst of adrenaline, seeing where this is going. “The tailor keeps track of their custom designs. They’ll be able to track who bought it?”
“One way to find out,” Chantelle says, holding up the phone.
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“We should get a warrant,” Poppy says, as Chantelle looks up the number for the tailor shop in Philadelphia. “I’ve kinda stepped in it without clearing things with the sheriff once already, and I don’t want to—”
“Kenny? He’s a teddy bear. He’ll be fine.”
“I’m not sure we should—”
Poppy is cut off when Chantelle raises a finger in the air, phone pressed to her ear as someone answers on the other line.
In a girly voice two octaves higher than her already high-pitched voice, Chantelle says, “Hi, I’m, um, trying to buy my dad a surprise present. He has all his suits made by your shop and I wondered if you, like, could make a recommendation for a tie.”
Poppy watches as Chantelle listens to the tailor shop employee on the other end of the phone.
“His name?” Chantelle says. Her eyes widen, like she hadn’t anticipated the question. She then makes a static sound from her throat, simulating her phone cutting out. “Sure… I… His name is… I want to get him something that matches…”
Poppy’s stomach turns. They can’t possibly be buying this, can they?
“Wait, what? Can you hear me now?” Chantelle says. “I have the number on the label of his suit if that helps.” Then she does a cute fist pump, and reads the number into the phone.
Chantelle puts the phone on speaker as the employee goes to check their records. After a small eternity, the voice comes back through the speakerphone: “Your father is Patrick Donnelly?”
“That’s right.” Poppy and Chantelle look at each other, excitement emanating off them both.
From the speaker: “It’s been a while since he’s been in. I have the perfect tie for his style.”
“A-maz-ing,” Chantelle says. “I can come by tomorrow to pick it up.”
“I’ll set it aside,” the employee says. “But can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“When you give him the gift, tell your father we’d love to fit him for a new suit. Our records say it’s been five years.”
Chantelle gives Poppy a quiet air high-five as she listens to the description of the tie.
They’ve found him.
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A20 MOTORWAY, FRANCE