“And one’s missing?”
“The one detailing the theft of the Gray Ghost.”
“Any other volumes mention the car?” Selma asked.
“A couple of them do,” Oliver said, apparently well versed on what they contained. “One’s from World War Two. It details when Uncle Albert’s father hid the car in the barn we found it in.”
“What about local experts?” Selma asked. “Anyone else who knows the history of your car? Might be worth talking to.”
“Actually, there is,” Oliver said. “The mechanic who worked on the Gray Ghost. We picked him because of his expertise in Rolls-Royce restoration.”
“Exactly how much work did he do on the car?” Sam asked.
“Had the car for a good fortnight before we got it back. Surely he would have mentioned something if he’d found anything important, wouldn’t he?” Oliver glared at the diary, then at them. “Blast it all, I’m being naive about that, aren’t I?”
Sam glanced at Remi. “Guess we know where we’re off to next.”
23
The moment Arthur Oren stepped out of his town house, down the steps, to the front walk, Colton’s black Mercedes rolled up—one of the things he liked about the man: his extreme punctuality. If he said he was going to be somewhere at a certain time, he made it happen.
“I trust things are going according to plan?” Oren asked, as he slid into the passenger seat.
Colton checked the side mirror, then pulled away from the curb. “As expected. As long as everyone keeps their end of the bargain, we should be fine.”
Arthur looked at him, but the man’s gaze was fixed out the window, presumably on the traffic. “What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Everyone knows their part, the payments are made, I expect all to continue without issues.”
To Arthur, it sounded almost like a veiled threat, but he chose to let it go. For now. He didn’t want anything to ruin this moment. They were finally on their way to see the Gray Ghost, find the secrets it held, and take the next step in securing his fortune and his hold on the Payton estates. All the planning, all the dreams, were finally coming to fruition, and he settled back in his seat, forcing himself to relax during the drive.
Colton, however, broke the silence with the worst sort of news. “The old man has a solicitor. My understanding is, he’s very reputable.”
Reputable meant competent, something they’d hoped to avoid. “He was supposed to be destitute,” Oren said. “How can a man who hasn’t a cent to his name afford that?”
“Oliver, it seems, has convinced the Fargos that his uncle is worthy of their help. They hired the attorney.”
“Out of the goodness of their hearts? I find that hard to believe. There has to be some sort of collateral. They barely know—” He stopped, looked over at Colton. “The only thing of value Oliver and his uncle have left besides Payton Manor is—was—the Gray Ghost.”
“Maybe that’s it,” Colton said, signaling for a right turn, never once looking at Oren. “It’d make sense. Not that it’ll do them much good. They’re hoping to recover the Ghost, no doubt, and we both know that won’t happen.”
Oren drummed his fingers on the center console, his well-manicured nails clicking on the burled wood. They could hope all they wanted. The Paytons were never getting their hands on that car again. Even so, he wouldn’t relax until he’d completed the rest of his plan. They needed to keep the Paytons’ finances on the brink. One step away from disaster, all so Oren could deliver the final blow and see them ruined forever. That would be his vindication, he thought, suddenly noticing that Colton had slowed down considerably. The road leading to the warehouse was a straight shot, the better to see anyone approaching. “Is something wrong?”
Colton eyed the buildings, checked his rearview mirror. “It never hurts to take precautions. I don’t like surprises.”
“Neither do I. Now, back to the Fargos. What do you intend to do about them?”
“That depends on how involved they plan on getting. If they’re merely offering up the services of this solicitor and his investigator, have at it, I say.”
“What if they get the old man off?”
“They won’t. The evidence is irrefutable. Otherwise, the police wouldn’t have made an arrest. So far, all they’ve received is a copy of the police report and the video, neither of which will do them any good.”
“You’d better be right,” he said, as they cruised past the warehouse. Colton pulled around and parked in the back. “After all the problems Oliver has caused, the last thing we need is more distractions.”
Colton looked at him, as he shut off the engine. “Distractions being the key word. It won’t alter the endgame. As I said, everything’s going as planned.”
“Really?” Oren asked, as they got out and walked up to the warehouse door. “I thought you were planning on taking the Fargos out. What happened with that plan?”