“None,” Oliver said. “Can you play it again?” He listened, shook his head. “Why would he accuse me of having it? He knows it was stolen from the show.”
“Maybe,” Remi said, “he thinks your uncle took it, and now you have it. After all, it’s still missing.”
“I don’t know why . . .” He sat in a chair, looking perplexed. “This is getting more complicated by the second. I’m beginning to regret talking my uncle out of taking that offer for Payton Manor and the car. It wasn’t near enough to settle his debts, but it might have kept him out of jail.” He sighed, then stared out the window, looking lost.
Sam was about to give a few words of encouragement when he thought about what Oliver just said. “Can you give me the details on this offer you were talking about?”
“Surely I mentioned that?”
“Of course he did,” Remi said. “They didn’t want to sell because of the tenants.”
“I realize that. I’m more interested in if they specifically mentioned the Gray Ghost when they made the offer for Payton Manor?”
Oliver drew away from the window. “Well, yes. Which is what made it so attractive. Just . . . What Remi said. He refused to guarantee that our tenants could remain on the property.”
Sam and Remi exchanged glances, Remi’s brows going up in question. “Who?” they both asked at the same time.
Oliver didn’t seem to hear them, and Sam crouched down in front of him so that he had no choice but to hear. “Who made the offer, Oliver?”
“Some distant relative, from what I understand.”
“Do you recall the name?”
“Heavens no. I didn’t handle it. Allegra did. Why?”
Sam stood, looking over at Remi, who was already typing distant relative into her phone, probably texting Selma. “Maybe it’s related to all this.”
“Related? How?”
“The sudden interest in the car, his offer, and the fact it was stolen.”
“But . . . this?” he nodded to the mess inside Chad’s shop. “Part of it?”
“No doubt. Try calling again.”
Oliver called the number, his eyes widening when someone answered. “Chad? We’ve been trying to reach you. Where . . . ?” He listened a moment, then said, “Yes. Okay.” Disconnecting, he stared at the phone’s screen for several seconds.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked.
“I’m not sure. But he says he’ll tell us when he gets here. He’s just a few minutes away.”
29
Taking no chances, Sam gripped the butt of his gun while he kept a close eye on the street, waiting for Chad’s arrival. When his yellow Renault finally pulled up, Sam made sure Chad was the only one in it and not being followed. “Looks like he’s alone.”
Oliver met him at the door. “Whatever’s going on? Your aunt said something about the Ghost?”
“They think I have it,” Chad said.
“Why?” Sam asked.
“I have no idea,” he replied, just seeming to notice Sam and Remi for the first time. “Who are you?”
“My friends,” Oliver said. “I told you about them when I called last night. Sam and Remi Fargo.”
“I didn’t know you were bringing them here.”
“Why wouldn’t I? They’re helping me and my uncle.”
“I—” He looked at the mess around him. “Second time, you know.”
“This happened before?” Sam asked.
He nodded. “A few weeks ago, right after Oliver and his uncle had the Ghost brought here.”
“Any idea what they were looking for?” Sam asked.
“Then or now?”
“Either.”
“I— They had to be looking for the Ghost.”
“It wasn’t here at the time?” Sam said.
He shook his head. “I kept it in my aunt’s carriage house. No way was I keeping that car here. Her entire house has alarms and cameras. Same with the carriage house.”
“This place doesn’t?”
“It does. Either I didn’t set it or they got past it somehow.”
Probably the latter, Sam realized.
Chad started to pick up some of the papers on the floor that had been pulled from the desk drawers, pausing as he looked around. “Why— Why would they think I even have it? That first time, I thought it was kids—until today.”
He looked at the papers he’d gathered from the floor, his expression lost.
“Here,” Remi said, taking the items from him. “You should sit. Can I get you some water?”
He nodded, as he sank into the desk chair, looking around the room. “None of this makes any sense. Why trash my office? Clearly the car’s not here.”
“Maybe looking for an address,” Sam said. “Somewhere you might hide it.”
“Except I don’t have it. Nor do I know where it is.”
“Your aunt mentioned something about a phone call,” Sam said, “when you were over there this morning.”
“Oh no.” He started to rise. “I told her I’d call a plumber.”
Remi returned with a bottle of water from the compact refrigerator beneath the counter. “Sam took care of it for you.”
Chad looked at Sam. “I— Thank you.”
“She was a little surprised when you went tearing out of there,” Sam said. “What was that about?”
“This bloke just started accusing me of stealing the Ghost. It didn’t matter what I told him, he said if I didn’t deliver it, I’d be sorry.” His hand shook so hard as he twisted off the bottle cap, he spilled the water in his lap.
“Are you okay?” Remi asked, taking the bottle from him.
“No.” Suddenly he dropped his head into his hands and started sobbing.
“Sam . . .”
Sam placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”
It was several seconds before he looked up, trying to catch his breath. “When I got the call from that man, I—” He sucked in a breath of air, looking dazed. “I could hear her cuckoo clock. He was calling from my mother’s house.”
“You’re sure?”
Chad nodded. This time when Remi handed him the bottle, he drank several sips, then wiped his mouth and eyes with the back of his hand. “I drove out there to see for myself. Once I saw the car out front, I knew.”
“Knew what?” Sam asked.
“The bloke who called. He was there. I couldn’t even go in. Just peeked through the window from the side yard like the coward I am.” He looked at Remi, his eyes pleading. “What am I going to do? She’s not involved in any of this.” His head went down again as another sob escaped his throat. “This is all my fault.”
Definitely something more going on here than any of them realized. Sam stood, angling his head at Remi to take over since she was far better at getting information from someone who was emotionally upset.
She moved in, taking Sam’s place. “Why would you think it’s your fault?”
This time he looked directly at Oliver. “I’m not the expert you thought I was. I made it all up for the money. I can work on cars, yes. But everything I know comes from the internet.”
“But—” Oliver stared for a moment, his stricken look turning to one of anger. “You assured me you were the best. I saw your website. All those photos. Those awards . . .”
“My uncle’s.”
“Why?”
Chad shrugged. “Would you have brought that car to me if you knew the only Rolls-Royce I’d ever worked on without my uncle was the one in my aunt’s garage?”
“Of course not.”
“See?”
Oliver started to say something, but Remi cut in. “You must know something about these cars. After all, you got the Ghost up and running.”
“When my uncle was alive, collectors would b
ring their cars to his shop for repair. He taught me everything he knew. After he died, no one was willing to take a chance on me. So, when I read that article about the Paytons finding the Gray Ghost, I made up a website and called them. And, well, you know the rest.”
Sam moved next to Remi, hoping to get the conversation back on track. “About your mother. Was someone threatening her?”
“No. But I’m sure whoever it is means to.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Even after I told him I didn’t have the Gray Ghost, he said he wasn’t interested in my excuses. Deliver the car or face the consequences. The thing is, I don’t have it. The last I saw of it was here at my shop, when we were putting it on that lorry for delivery to the London Motor Show. That’s it. I swear.”
“Well, someone seems to think you have it,” Sam said.
“Yes. And whoever this man is, he’s sitting there drinking tea with my mother as though they were the best of friends.”
“At least she doesn’t know what’s going on.”
“Not helping, Sam,” Remi said under her breath. Louder, she asked, “How do we get her out of there?”
“Call the police,” Oliver said.
Something that Sam had already considered and dismissed. The last thing they wanted was a hostage situation. Or anyone getting shot. “One thing we’re sure of,” Sam said, “is that these guys have no problem pulling guns. I’m not sure I want to pit them against unarmed village constables.”
“What other choice do we have?” Chad asked.
“Storm the castle and get her out.”
30
The first thing they did was bring up a satellite map image of the village where Chad’s mother lived, about fifteen minutes to the north. Sam and Remi studied the map while Chad described the neighborhood, pointing to the middle of an S-shaped street. “The main problem,” Chad said, “is that her house is right at the center of the S. No matter which direction you approach from, her parlor window and front door have a view of the street. If this guy’s looking out the window to the right, he’ll see you coming before you see him. The only place that might work is on the west end of the street. My mum’s hedge runs the length of her driveway, and you have to move out past the hedge to the street to actually see the corner here at the top of the hill.”
“How’d you get a look without being seen?” Sam asked.
“Through the park behind her house.” He ran his finger along an expanse of green that paralleled the next street over. “There’s a gate that leads from the park to her backyard. It’s overgrown with ivy, so I went in through that, up the side yard, then looked in through the kitchen window. He was sitting in the front parlor, watching the street. There’s no way he even knows the gate’s there.”
“And there was only one man?”
“Just the one.”
Sam studied the map a bit longer. “It could work. Remi, you could hole up at the top of the hill. I come in through the back gate. Oliver, you’re at the park, with the car running. Chad makes the call, draws him out. Remi signals me that he’s past the hedge, I go in, get your mom, and we’re good to go.”
“What if he takes her out with him?” Chad asked. “Like a hostage?”
“The fact your mother doesn’t know she’s a hostage makes it clear he’s trying to keep it low-key. Last thing he’s going to want to do is draw attention to his presence.”
What he didn’t mention was that Remi’s presence at the top of the hill with her gun was in case of that very scenario. No sense in alarming either Chad or Oliver. For this to work, he needed them calm. “You good with that, Remi?”
“Definitely,” she said, giving a slight pat to the small of her back where her Sig was holstered.
“How are we going to draw him out?” Chad asked.
“All you need to do is tell him you’re parked at the top of the street. He has to walk out past the hedge. Get him out that far, we’re good. It’s all about the setup. We need him to believe you have the car.”
“How?”
“First thing,” Sam said, “we call your mother and get a handle on what it is we’re dealing with. Be reluctant. If you’re too eager to give details, you might spook the guy.” After Sam went over a few pointers and details, Chad turned on the speaker of his cell phone and redialed the number. “What is it you want from me?” he asked the man who answered.
“The Gray Ghost.”
“What makes you think I have it?”
“A reliable source,” the man said. “And your dear, sweet mum informs us that you’ve been working on it at your shop.”
“Clearly you’ve been here.”
“Yes. And clearly it’s not there. Where is it?”
Chad looked at Sam, who nodded, encouraging him to stick with their script. “Somewhere safe. I want assurances that my mother’s not hurt.”
“I’ll let you talk to her yourself.”
There was a muffled noise, then his mother’s voice saying, “Chad? Is that you?”
“It’s me, Mum. Are you okay?”
“What a silly question. Of course I’m okay. I’m having such a lovely time with two of your mates. I was showing them your website and telling them all about the car you’re working on. That gray one. You’re coming by with it, aren’t you?”
Sam and Remi glanced at each other, Remi reaching for the pen.
“Mum—”
“As you can see, she’s fine. Waiting for you. And the Gray Ghost.”
“Yes,” they heard his mother saying in the background. “One of those ghost names.”
Remi wrote time and stall, pointed at the paper.
Chad nodded, saying, “It’s going to take a few hours. I don’t have it here with me.”
“So you’ve finally come to your senses,” the man on the other end said. “You have three hours to deliver the car to us. Or else.”
“I need more—”
The line went dead.
“So much for storming the castle,” Remi said.
“Remi’s right,” Sam replied.
“Why?” Chad asked. “You said this would work.”
Oliver eyed the both of them, looking aghast. “I know I was against this, but you can’t mean to just leave her there.”
“We’re not,” Sam said. “But that plan’s out. You heard your mother. She said two of your friends. As in more than one. That changes the odds significantly.”
“But you both have guns,” Oliver said. “You can’t leave her there.”
“That’s the last thing we intend to do,” Sam said. “It’s just that after hearing their conversation, the plan we came up with won’t work.”
“No,” Remi said. “But I have the perfect Plan B.”
31
That’s insane,” Oliver said when Remi finished outlining her plan to the three of them. “You’re asking us to make something out of nothing. It’ll never work.”
“It’s brilliant,” Sam said. “It could totally work.”
Remi turned to Chad. “She’s your mother. You’re the one who has to make the final decision. And you’re the only one who knows if we have half a chance of pulling this off.”
Chad stared at the same spot on the floor for several seconds, clearly wrestling with the decision. Finally, he looked up at her, and then Sam, his dark eyes troubled. “I’m not saying yes. I need to know how do we keep my mother from getting hurt?”
“That part’s easy,” Sam said. “Kind of like the old plan. They’re more interested in the car than her.”
“Except in this case,” Remi said, “we intend to deliver.”
Chad gave a deep sigh, stood. “Let’s go take a look.”
The four of them walked down to the carriage house where the Rolls was stored.
Chad looked in the window, saw his aunt, gave a cheer
y smile, and waved, his face sobering as he turned back to them. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention any of this to my aunt. I’d rather not have her worried.”
“Not a word,” Sam said.
Chad opened the door and turned on the lights. “Anyone who’s the least bit familiar with these cars will be able to tell straightaway this isn’t the Gray Ghost the moment they get a good look at it.”
Of that, Sam had no doubt. The fact that Remi’s idea was so preposterous was what made it so appealing. Who would suspect them of trying to pass off a counterfeit car as the real thing?
“Silk purse, sow’s ear,” Oliver muttered.
“Maybe so,” Sam said. “But if we work this right, they’ll never get close enough to tell.”
“They won’t have to,” Chad replied. “The silhouette’s off. The body’s too short. Those fenders aren’t right. Straighter than the Ghost. Unless . . .” He looked around the shop, his attention lingering on some black fenders stacked against the wall. “We could switch them out for those. A little spray paint . . . Still, this Rolls doesn’t have the style of the Barker Coachworks. They’ll notice that right off. Look at how level those seat backs are.”
“Any way we can fake it?” Remi asked.
He circled the vehicle, eyeing it as he walked. After a while he stopped, opened the front passenger door, climbed in, and kneeled on the seat. Suddenly he started pulling up on the leather upholstery, loosening it from the back. “I think I can work with this.”
“Even if it means lessening the value of your car?”
“It’s not like we’re ripping up the Gray Ghost, trying to make it look like the lesser twenty–twenty-five that it is.” He patted the back of the seat he’d just pulled up. “Great for tinkering with, and learning to rebuild an engine. Other than that, it’s probably worth more as a source for spare parts.”
“How long do you need?” Sam asked.
“I daresay, at least a couple of hours.”
Oliver looked less than pleased, conflicted over the issue of Chad’s pretense to gain access to the Ghost. It didn’t help that his uncle was sitting in a jail cell, either.