“That remains to be seen,” Isaac said, sitting at a table in the parlor in front of an arched window that overlooked the street below, the clip-clop of horses’ hooves and the squeak of carriage wheels drifting up. Isaac looked at the open door to the next room, where the child had fallen asleep on the bed. “You believe the lad saw you and your cousin at the orphanage a few days before the robbery?”
“That had to have been it. My father asked me to have a look at the ledgers, due to a sudden shortage in funds. As patrons of the charity for the orphanage, he feels it’s our responsibility to ensure that nothing was amiss.”
“And what were the findings?”
“My cousin assured me the books held only one or two errors. Nothing that would suggest a mismanagement of the funds.”
“Your cousin assured you? This wasn’t your assessment?”
I felt a twinge of worry. “He offered to look at the books. He’s much better at figures.”
“Was there anyone else with you besides your cousin that afternoon?”
“Our driver.”
“Did he ever leave the carriage?”
“No.”
“Only you and your cousin?”
“He’s not a thief.”
“Quite possibly he’s a murderer. Which is far worse.”
“Impossible. He and his wife have a newborn son. He’d never—”
“By any chance does your cousin gamble?”
“Occasionally. I know he’s had a few losses. But nothing terribly serious.” A feeling of dread came over me as I reflected on the various times Reginald had borrowed money after a night at the gambling halls. But he wasn’t so heartless as to steal funds meant to feed the poor and destitute . . .
Or was he? If he could do that, was it a far cry to think he could arrange a train robbery and murder any witnesses? “Surely, you don’t think . . . ?”
Isaac leveled his gaze on me. “We need to have a look at those ledgers.”
26
Remi waited next to their rental car while Sam put their suitcases in the trunk.
Oliver reluctantly handed over his own suitcase. “Do you really think this is necessary?” he asked, as Sam put it in next to the other two, then closed the lid. “Staying somewhere else?”
“Definitely.”
“Because,” Remi said, seeing how worried the man looked, “if Selma finds out where these two other cars are located, we’ll be ready to go.”
When Sam looked over at her, as he walked around to the driver’s door, she raised her brows, tilting her head toward Oliver. The man had enough to worry about without the added burden of what might happen if they stayed at Payton Manor. “Right,” Sam said. “Save us a trip back here. The sooner we get all this information together, the better for your uncle.”
“Didn’t think of that,” Oliver replied, taking the backseat, behind Remi, as Sam slid into the driver’s seat.
Remi smiled at Oliver, glad to see he appeared relaxed. The real reason they had him pack a bag was that they didn’t trust that they’d be safe at the manor. That morning, just before dawn, Sam had awoken to a dog barking. When he got up and looked out the window, he’d seen someone in the distance, watching the house. The moment the sun came up, the man drove off in a dark sedan.
Not that he or Remi had been surprised, especially after everything that had happened these past few days. It did, however, give them reason to suspect that Oliver might not be safe if left on his own—something he’d actually considered, pointing out that a few days’ rest would help his injured arm heal faster.
The events concerning his uncle and the estate were beginning to wear on him, and the effects were obvious. He jumped at the slightest sound, and the circles under his eyes grew darker each day. About ten minutes down the road, Remi looked back and saw that he’d fallen fast asleep. When he started snoring, Sam checked the rearview mirror, then Remi. “Didn’t want to say anything, but we’ve been followed since we left the estate.”
Remi looked in the side mirror, seeing a dark-colored vehicle in the distance. Oliver lived far enough out in the country that traffic on these roads was infrequent. They still had miles to go before they hit the motorway, where they could easily lose the car in traffic. “Watchful eye?” she said, keeping her voice low.
“For now.” He patted his Smith & Wesson in the holster hidden in his jacket. “If they get any closer, take a tire out.”