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“Don’t feel bad,” Sam said. “Neither do I.”
Oliver looked over, noticed his uncle hadn’t touched the food on his plate. “Eat up, Uncle Albert. We have a ten o’clock train to catch.”
* * *
—
THE TRAIN actually passed through the southernmost tip of the Payton estate on its way to London, and Oliver pointed out a few of the fa
rms visible in the distance. “The tenants have lived on this land for generations,” he said, his voice laced with pride. The four were seated at a table, facing each other. “And I hope they continue to do so. Unfortunately, their farms aren’t the most profitable.”
“How long has the land been in your family?” Remi asked.
“Since the recovery of the Gray Ghost. Prior to that, it belonged to the Payton-Orens.”
His uncle made a scoffing noise. “Cutthroats and thieves, those Orens.”
“One Oren,” Oliver said, leaning back in his seat. “Reginald Oren was responsible for the theft of the Gray Ghost and the robbery of the King’s Treasury back in 1906.”
“Definitely a colorful past,” Remi said.
“Cursed,” his uncle said again. “Reginald Oren made sure of that. Nothing but trouble ever since. That’s what killed your father.”
Oliver shot an exasperated look toward his uncle before looking out the window at the passing scenery. “I suppose if you can blame a farming accident on a car that had been hidden away by that time, then yes. Now, shall we find something more pleasant to chat about?”
While Oliver discussed the workings of one of their farmer tenants, Sam’s gaze swept over the other passengers, noting one in particular, on the opposite side of the aisle, who was reading the newspaper. The cut of his hair reminded Sam of the man who’d followed them in Pebble Beach. Definitely not the same person; still, something about him bothered Sam.
“I could use a cup of coffee,” Sam said, standing. “Would anyone else like something?”
“Nothing for me, thank you,” Oliver said. “Uncle Albert?”
A soft snore escaped Albert’s lips as his head fell forward.
“Guess not,” Sam said. He looked at Remi, who started to rise. “Don’t get up. I know how much you enjoy the scenery. Watch it for me, would you?”
His back to the man, he gave a slight nod to his right.
Remi settled into her seat. “Don’t take too long. I can use the caffeine.”
Sam turned, pulling out his cell phone, his attention on the screen as he strolled past, filming everything in front of him. He left that car, walked through the next two cars, then retraced his steps. When he reached Remi’s side, he held up his phone, saying, “Got so absorbed in the email, didn’t realize I was going the wrong direction.”
Remi smiled and pointed toward the opposite door. “Food car is that way.”
“Now you tell me.”
He repeated the process on his way to get the coffee. As he waited for his order, he watched the video, then sent it to Remi.
There were three men on that train watching them. The two from Pebble Beach, one in each car adjoining theirs, probably keeping their distance in case they were recognized, and the third man pretending to read the paper a few seats down.
If nothing else, it was going to make their time at the car show a lot more interesting.
8
LONDON
Sam warned Oliver about the men watching them on the train, telling him to keep an eye on his uncle. “Stay close,” he said, noting the number of security guards in front of the convention center. “I doubt they’ll approach either of you in such a public place, but it’s best not to take chances.”
Remi took the program from the man who collected their tickets, opening it up to the map. “Looks like the Gray Ghost is all the way in the back.”
