Page 168 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

Another shot went off.

“It’s coming from where Sticks and Petry are set up,” Billy said. He listened to something on his radio. “One of Viv’s teams is moving in.”

“They weren’t the ones doing the shooting?” Stone asked.

“No.”

Stone glanced at Dino. “LAPD?”

Dino shook his head. “They were hanging back to catch Petry and the others when they returned to the road.”

“Then who took the shot and who were they shooting at?” Monica asked.

A Strategic Services security guard hurried over. “The guests are being moved into the house. You all should join them. It’s not safe out here.”

The radio on his belt squawked to life. “This is team five. We’ve got a body. Male, approximately forty-five. No pulse.” After a short pause, the security officer said, “He has a New York driver’s license, says his name is Nicolas Savage.”

Viv gestured for her security officer to give her his radio, and he handed it over. “Team five, this is Vivian Bacchetti. No sign of anyone else?”

“No, ma’am. Just the one.”

“There are at least two more out there. Proceed with extreme caution.”

“Copy.”

The fire engine had reached the small blaze, and firefighters were preparing to douse the flames.

“Billy, I need your car,” Stone said.

“Where are you going?” Billy asked.

“To find them.”

“I’m coming with you,” Dino said.

Billy handed Stone the keys to the Audi. “I need to make sure everything here is okay, then I’ll catch up to you.”

“Here,” Viv said, tossing Stone the radio.

Catching it in his right hand, he and Dino ran to Billy’s garage.

—

“Dammit,” Sticks muttered.

He had stopped just inside the brush to scan the road. From his angle, he could see several silhouettes crouched behind Petry’s car.

More cops, he figured.

That morning, he and Benji had stolen a black BMW 340i andhidden it by a house that was being remodeled. Keeping under cover, he headed in that direction. He paused again when he reached the driveway, then relaxed upon seeing no sign of the cops.

He jogged to the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s seat. As he reached out to start the engine, someone banged against the driver’s-side window.

He flinched and glanced over, sure that it was the police.

But it was Petry.

The man yanked on the handle and the door flew open. “Out!”

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