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They drove around the corner, Sam directing him to park, just out of sight. They waited a few minutes until the sun was slightly above and behind the truck before driving past the corner house, stopping so that the flatbed and covered Faux Ghost cast a long shadow onto the paved street. If everything worked as planned, anyone looking at them from the front of Chad’s house would have a hard time seeing much else but the silhouette. “Loosen up the tarp on your side and make the call. Whatever you do, we need to get both men out of the house so Remi can get to your mother.”
“What do I do if they see you?”
“Their attention’s going to be on the car. I’ll be inside the cab with the window open, watching over your shoulder. Don’t forget, the sun’ll be in their eyes.”
Chad got out, unclipped the tarp, pulled it off, stood in front of the driver’s door, turned the speaker on his phone to low so that Sam could hear the call. “The Gray Ghost is here,” he said when they answered.
“Where? The only cars I see in front of your mother’s house are ours.”
“Look up the hill.”
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A moment later, a man walked out to the street, holding a cell phone to his ear with one hand, the other hand in his right jacket pocket, probably gripping a gun. He looked up the hill, squinting in the sunlight, then turned back toward the house. “Frank! Get out here!” A second man walked out, Chad’s mother at his side. He looked their direction, shielding his eyes with his left hand, saying something to the man on the phone, who said, “Bring the lorry closer.”
Sam tapped Chad on the shoulder as a reminder. “No,” Chad ordered. “Not until you send my mother into the house. After that, walk up the hill. The car’s yours.”
The man hesitated, before saying, “You better not be trying something funny.”
“I just want my mum safe.”
The man said something to his partner, who, in turn, said something to Chad’s mother. At first, she seemed reluctant to leave, but eventually she returned inside the house.
“Remi,” Sam said softly. “She’s on her way.”
“I’m waiting for her.”
When the woman closed the front door, the second man dropped his phon
e into his pocket and continued down the steps and into the street. They were about halfway up the hill when Remi said, “Slight problem. She thinks Chad’s on his way here. She won’t leave without him.”
Great. Sam eyed the two men. In less than a minute they’d be close enough to see they’d been duped. Worse yet, there were several children walking on the street. “We don’t have a Plan C,” he told her. “Get her out of there before they’re close enough to see the car.”
“I’ll try.”
“What do I do?” Chad asked Sam under his breath.
“Hand them the keys to the truck, if you have to. We just need to buy Remi some time.”
Sam watched as Chad, both hands held out, dangled the keys to the truck so they were visible. The two men stopped, one of them reaching for his gun. “Who are you talking to?”
“I just want to get my mum,” he called out. “The car’s yours.” He tossed the keys at them.
“Get the keys, Bruno,” the other said. “I’ll call Colton and tell him we have the Ghost.”
Sam slipped out the door on the other side, working his way to the back of the truck.
“Sam?” Remi’s quiet voice sounded in his earpiece.
“So far, so good. Do whatever it takes to get his mother out of there.”
“We’ve got her. We’re on our way.”
He peered beneath the Faux Ghost, watching as the two men strode up the hill. The man on the left, Bruno, stopped, his eyes fixed on the car. “What the . . .”
“What’s wrong?” Frank said.
“That’s not the Gray Ghost.” Bruno drew his gun, about to turn back toward the house.
