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“Let’s have a look,” Sam said, scanning the crowd. So far, he hadn’t seen their friends from the train, or anyone else who looked as though they were following them. Then again, in this venue, it wouldn’t be easy to spot a tail because of the numerous vendor booths preventing a clear line of sight. Still, he was glad to see the guards manning every entrance and exit, and a number of others roamed the floor.
The four walked between rows of booths, the vendors selling everything from books about cars to the latest, greatest concoction ever formulated to restore paint luster. The scent of grilled meat drifted toward them from a stage where a cooking demonstration was taking place using a suitcase-sized barbecue meant to be transported in the trunk of a car.
“Worried about flare-ups?” the demonstrator asked the audience, then used a spray bottle to mist the cooking surface on his left with some sort of oil. Flames shot through the grill, and the audience gasped, leaning back as though they could actually feel the heat. “As you see on this off-brand barbie, your meat ends up burnt. But on our no-char surface”—he sprayed the second grill with the same mixture, nothing happened—“no flames.”
“That,” Remi said, nodding at the barbecue, “would have come in handy on a few of our jungle expeditions.”
“If you have a car to haul it in.”
“You’re not willing to carry it?”
“Not even for you, Remi.” They continued past the cooking show, stopping behind a gathering centered at the back of the building. The crowd parted slightly, giving them their first view of the fabled Gray Ghost. “That, however, I’d consider hauling around.”
“And I’d let you . . .”
Sam, seeing that Oliver was guiding his uncle toward the car, nodded to Remi, who quickly moved to one side of the two men while Sam moved to the other, and they weaved their way through the onlookers, finally stopping at the velvet rope surrounding the Gray Ghost. The car sat on a circular platform, the overhead lights reflecting on its smooth gray paint. All the brightwork was nickel-plated, polished to a mirror finish. The blue leather interior looked smooth and supple, not a crack to be seen anywhere on its surface.
Oliver’s brows went up. “Well done, don’t you think, Uncle Albert?”
“I won’t let them have it.”
“No one’s taking it anywhere.”
“Eh,” the old man said, his expression turning to a scowl. “Bunch of cutthroats. Only reason they haven’t stolen it is because it doesn’t run.”
“Of course it runs,” Oliver said. “Chad fixed it.”
“Chad? I don’t know any Chad.”
“The mechanic I found.” He turned toward Sam and Remi, saying, “He did a brilliant job. Even more impressive firsthand. Once they close for the day, we’ll take a proper look after everyone leaves.”
“I bet—” Albert stopped as alarms blared, and lights over each exit flashed on and off. Everyone in the room started looking around as though trying to decide if the alarm was legitimate. In less than a minute, security guards and uniformed personnel began herding the crowd toward the doors, while ushers went down each row of stalls, announcing that the building needed to be cleared. A few vendors balked at being forced from their booths but reluctantly left when it was apparent the alarm wasn’t ending anytime soon.
Speakers crackled above them as a voice cut in: “Please walk to the nearest exit. This is not a drill. Please walk to the nearest exit. Thank you.”
“Wonder what it is?” Oliver asked, taking his uncle by the arm again.
“Cooking demonstration gone bad?” Remi suggested, nodding that direction, where thick black smoke was streaming up.
“Cross that grill off our list,” Sam said, drawing Remi, Oliver, and Albert toward the exit. Someone screamed when flames reached the top of the cubicle. The crowd surged forward, separating the four of them. “Uncle Albert!” Oliver turned about, trying to find his uncle.
Sam scanned the faces, looking for Albert. “You don’t think he’s gone back to the Ghost, do you?”
“Undoubtedly,” Oliver said. “I’ll check.”
“We’ll take a look around the booths and meet you out front. It’s possible he was swept out with the crowd.”
Sam and Remi split up, meeting near the entrance.
“Nothing,” Remi said.
“Check outside. If you find either of them, stay close to the doors in case our friends from the train are anywhere nearby. I’m going to make another pass.”
Sam worked his way around a second time, no sign of either Oliver or his uncle. The place nearly emptied, he returned to the entrance, hearing the faint sirens of the responding fire trucks. He stepped out, finding Remi waiting nearby. “Nothing.”
“There’s Oliver!” Remi pointed down the left side of the building.
He and Remi hurried toward Oliver as he tried to get into the building through one of the side doors.
