The Gray Ghost (Fargo Adventures 10)

“No one said you had to give it to him in one piece.”

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Oren replied, wondering if he should rethink his dismissal of Colton as the mastermind behind the theft of the stolen Ghost. “Only an idiot would purposefully ruin a car worth tens of millions of dollars.”

“It’s not like you can sell it on the open market.”

“Maybe not, but there are plenty of buyers who’d make a private sale for their own collection just to say they have it. Isn’t that how you found the auction for this Ghost in Italy?”

Colton merely regarded him with those dead brown eyes of his.

The man was infuriating. “Returning the Gray Ghost is not an option. I intend to recover it. Period.” Oren leaned back in his chair, taking the moment to calm himself. “Back to the Fargos. I’d prefer they were dead. How do you plan on taking care of it?”

“As I said before, killing them outright will only bring unwanted attention. There’s a far better way to keep them out of your affairs, and later—when they end up dead—anyone who hears what happened will nod in understanding at how two, young, once-wealthy socialites took their own lives. In fact, I’ve already started implementing it.”

“I’m listening . . .”

41

JOURNAL OF JONATHON PAYTON, 5TH VISCOUNT WELLSWICK

1906

I still held out hope that my cousin was innocent. Even so, I dared not let him get past. How would I explain Isaac Bell’s presence in the headmaster’s office? And what of the boy, Toby? I couldn’t let Reginald see him.

I knew I must have seemed as though I’d suddenly lost my wits, standing there, my tongue cleaved to the top of my mouth. As a look of annoyance crossed Reggie’s face, I was vaguely aware of Miss Atwater’s melodic voice drifting out of the classroom as she taught the alphabet.

It was clear. I was smitten.

A year ago, my father had arranged for a proper introduction to an heiress of his approval, hoping our betrothal would soon follow. Suffice it to say that Reginald was now married to the young woman, my father pointing out that he’d only courted her because of my interest. The truth was that I was happy for him. She and I would not have made a good match.

Miss Atwater, however . . . she was different, and part of me was reluctant to use her as my excuse for being here. I wouldn’t have, except that Reggie’s mild annoyance started turning to suspicion.

* * *

—

“’TIS RASH,” I said to Reginald, “I know. But I came back hoping to catch a glimpse of Miss Atwater, and now I feel the fool. She never even noticed me on our first visit.” Perhaps because she’d never seen me. I tried drawing Reggie away. “Please don’t look in there, lest she notices us. Accompany me outside.”

“To what purpose?” Reginald asked, looking past me into the classroom.

I grasped his arm, guiding him down the hall, then out the door. “To work up the nerve to ask if she would consider allowing me to call on her.”

I paced in front of the carriage, pretending—nay, there was no pretense whatsoever—I was so besotted that I needed help with what I should say to Miss Atwater.

Reginald was at once amused and annoyed. “She’s a schoolteacher. And a bit long in the tooth. Do you sincerely think she wouldn’t be flattered by your attention?”

I ignored his assessment of the woman, whom I found perfect. “And what if she says no?”

“Either declare your intentions and risk your father’s wrath or go back to being the coward you are—and never knowing what may happen.”

R

eginald had always been braver, stronger, faster, smarter. As children, I had often been the one to hang back, let my cousin take charge. It was easy to fall into that role now because I needed to keep Reginald out here, away from the headmaster’s office. But the truth of his words stung. I had always allowed my father to run roughshod over my interests. Reginald’s, too. And so, when I asked for pointers on how to approach Miss Atwater, I was very serious. “How do I do it?”

Before Reginald had a chance to answer, Isaac Bell came striding around the corner. He didn’t look at me or my cousin until he was nearly on us, and all he did was tip his hat and continue past as though he knew me not at all.

I was fortunate that, at that very moment, Miss Atwater appeared at the top of the stairs, drawing our attention away from Bell.

“Sir?” she said.