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“Did you find out anything more?” Sam asked Selma.
“Lazlo and I are going through it a second time to see if we’ve missed anything.”
“Sam and I can give it a closer read later,” Remi said. “As soon as we meet up with Chad and Oliver, we’ll be heading to Paris. We think the Ghost might be there.”
“Paris?” Selma said. “Let me get this straight. The car was stolen from London, shipped to Paris, sold in Italy, and now this long-lost relative, Oren, is buying it?”
“From a high-end broker,” Remi replied.
“Was this a custom order?” Selma asked. “Maybe Oren wanted the car and paid someone to steal it?”
“The possibility exists,” Sam said. “But whoever stole the Ghost from the London Motor Show would have to have had some inside knowledge about the Ghost and the Payton family. The setup was far too elaborate for a spur-of-the-moment theft.”
“An inside job?”
“At the very least. Figure out who has that sort of connection to the family—”
“Allegra’s ex-husband,” Remi said. “The solicitor’s investigator thought she was hiding something, and Oliver suspected he might be there.”
Sam added, “Not sure of his name, but he’s certainly a good possibility.”
“I’ll touch base with the investigator,” Selma said. “Back to Paris. How are you two doing on cash?”
“We’re fine. Remi managed to pick up a few thousand euros from the broker.”
Lazlo smiled. “I daresay, he wasn’t too pleased about that.”
“Unfortunately, his guards may have taken it out on our car.”
“Are you returning it to the rental agency in Italy?” Selma asked Sam.
“Considering our lack of finances, I think it’ll be cheaper, and safer, to drive to Paris. I just need to figure out how to patch those bullet holes so they’re not so obvious. I’d hate to get pulled over and have to explain how they got there.”
“Duct tape,” Lazlo said. “Just make sure it’s the same color as the car.”
“Let me know where you end up dropping it off,” Selma told Sam. “Once we get the credit cards back on track, I’ll notify the rental agency. And the insurance company. What about the jet?”
“In hock at Ciampino. The crew took the petty cash and are probably waiting to hear from you.”
“We’ll put that on our list,” Selma said. “Any idea where in Paris you’re headed?”
Remi read the address off the pad of paper. “See if there’s anything on Lorenzo Rossi at that location. I gathered he wasn’t going to release the Ghost until Oren’s transfer cleared.”
“Also,” Sam said, “check for connections near the coast. If he’s fencing stolen property from other countries, especially the UK, he’s going to have something near major shipping areas. Quick in, quick out.”
“We’ll get on it,” Selma said.
“Thanks. And if I didn’t mention it, Remi and I are glad to hear from the both of you. We were worried when we couldn’t get in touch.”
“You were worried?” Selma sank back in her chair and looked over at Lazlo. “You should have seen us.”
Lazlo gave a dry laugh, reached over, and grasped Selma’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “The worst thing that happened was,” he said, “we couldn’t call for takeout. We did, however, raid the safe for petty cash.”
“Glad you’re both okay,” Remi said. “We’ll talk to you soon.”
They disconnected, and Selma gave a deep sigh, noting Lazlo’s expression mirrored hers—overwhelming relief that the Fargos were fine. A few seconds passed before either of them realized they were still holding hands.
Letting go, they looked at each other, both feeling a sense of embarrassment as they scooted closer to their own desks.
