Page 122 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

On his way out of the hotel, he hid a relay in a maintenance supply closet. The device would upload to the cloud everything the bugs picked up, allowing Teddy to access the data whenever and wherever he wanted.

—

One hundred and twenty miles to the south, near the city of Del Mar, Benji and his crew were crouched behind a hedge, preparing to steal the final Matilda Stone for Simon. Tonight, they were dressed as firefighters.

“Are we going to just wait around or what?” Sticks whispered.

Benji grimaced. “You’re sure you can control it?”

“Have I ever not been able to?”

Benji almost brought up last night’s blaze. It had definitely burned out of control and had even taken the life of the guy they’d dumped at the side of the road—the potential repercussions for which Benji was trying hard not to think about. He knew if he mentioned the fire, though, Sticks would throw the blame right back into his lap. Benjiwasthe one who forgot to call 911, after all.

So instead, he said, “Sorry. The schedule just has me on edge.”

“I can control it, okay?”

“Okay.”

When Simon had pulled Benji into his office to talk about the next job, Benji was already expecting the worst. He’d been there for his brother’s conversation with the client, and his eyes had nearly bugged out of his head when he heard that the client was expecting three paintings on Friday. He’d assumed Simon wouldhave given Benji a day to prep, meaning they’d steal the painting on Thursday night. But no, Simon wanted it at the gallery Thursday morning. Which meant they had to get it tonight.

Two thefts in two nights. They had never done that before. Hell, before last night, they had never done two within a week of each other.

The target was also less than appealing. Instead of being surrounded by wilderness, it was in an upscale gated community. Using the brushfire excuse wasn’t going to work here. Plus, they had to sneak into the area on foot and would have to leave with the painting the same way. Even a week of preparation wouldn’t have been enough to do this one right.

Benji didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like he could say no.

“Check your devices one more time,” Benji said to Sticks.

Sticks rolled his eyes but kept any comments to himself and crept away. He returned ten minutes later and gave Benji a thumbs-up.

Benji tapped Devin on the shoulder and nodded.

Devin headed off on a route that would take him to the street the house was on. Soon, his voice came over Benji’s earpiece. “In position.”

“Do it,” Benji whispered to Sticks.

Sticks smirked and tapped his phone screen.

Within seconds, flames sparked at several points along the back of the house at the north end. Benji waited until he was sure the wall was burning, then turned on his mic. “Devin, you’re up.”

“Copy,” Devin said.

As planned, Devin left his mic on so that Benji heard him pound on the front door until it opened.

“What the hell?” a man’s voice said, muffled by the door.

“Your house is on fire,” Devin said. “You need to get out.”

“What?”

“Is there anyone else in the house?”

“Um, my son’s upstairs.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes.”

---