Probably the latter, Sam realized.
Chad started to pick up some of the papers on the floor that had been pulled from the desk drawers, pausing as he looked around. “Why— Why would they think I even have it? That first time, I thought it was kids—until today.”
He looked at the papers he’d gathered from the floor, his expression lost.
“Here,” Remi said, taking the items from him. “You should sit. Can I get you some water?”
He nodded, as he sank into the desk chair, looking around the room. “None of this makes any sense. Why trash my office? Clearly the car’s not here.”
“Maybe looking for an address,” Sam said. “Somewhere you might hide it.”
“Except I don’t have it. Nor do I know where it is.”
“Your aunt mentioned something about a phone call,” Sam said, “when you were over there this morning.”
“Oh no.” He started to rise. “I told her I’d call a plumber.”
Remi returned with a bottle of water from the compact refrigerator beneath the counter. “Sam took care of it for you.”
Chad looked at Sam. “I— Thank you.”
“She was a little surprised when you went tearing out of there,” Sam said. “What was that about?”
“This bloke just started accusing me of stealing the Ghost. It didn’t matter what I told him, he said if I didn’t deliver it, I’d be sorry.” His hand shook so hard as he twisted off the bottle cap, he spilled the water in his lap.
“Are you okay?” Remi asked, taking the bottle from him.
“No.” Suddenly he dropped his head into his hands and started sobbing.
“Sam . . .”
Sam placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”
It was several seconds before he looked up, trying to catch his breath. “When I got the call from that man, I—” He sucked in a breath of air, looking dazed. “I could hear her cuckoo clock. He was calling from my mother’s house.”
“You’re sure?”
Chad nodded. This time when Remi handed him the bottle, he drank several sips, then wiped his mouth and eyes with the back of his hand. “I drove out there to see for myself. Once I saw the car out front, I knew.”
“Knew what?” Sam asked.
“The bloke who called. He was there. I couldn’t even go in. Just peeked through the window from the side yard like the coward I am.” He looked at Remi, his eyes pleading. “What am I going to do? She’s not involved in any of this.” His head went down again as another sob escaped his throat. “This is all my fault.”
Definitely something more going on here than any of them realized. Sam stood, angling his head at Remi to take over since she was far better at getting information from someone who was emotionally upset.
She moved in, taking Sam’s place. “Why would you think it’s your fault?”
This time he looked directly at Oliver. “I’m not the expert you thought I was. I made it all up for the money. I can work on cars, yes. But everything I know comes from the internet.”
“But—” Oliver stared for a moment, his stricken look turning to one of anger. “You assured me you were the best. I saw your website. All those photos. Those awards . . .”
“My uncle’s.”
“Why?”
Chad shrugged. “Would you have brought that car to me if you knew the only Rolls-Royce I’d ever worked on without my uncle was the one in my aunt’s garage?”
“Of course not.”