Page 24 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

“Screw this,” he said, and headed to his car.

Driving by Barrington’s place was probably not the best idea in the world, but what could it hurt? It wasn’t like Nico was going to stop and get out. He’d just cruise by and make sure everything was quiet.

The moment he turned onto Barrington’s street, the bottom dropped out of his stomach.

In front of the lawyer’s home were a half dozen police cars, lights flashing, and what looked like an ambulance.

It’s okay,he told himself. Barrington contacting the police after Toby and his team finished the job was to be expected.

As Nico neared the house, two men carried a stretcher out the front door. The sheet covering the person on the stretcher from head to toe could only mean one thing. Someone had died.

Barrington?

Maybe that was why Toby hadn’t called in yet. Killing the lawyer hadn’t been part of the plan, not that Nico’s boss would be too upset.

Nico turned at the next intersection, then found a place to double park. He returned to the corner on foot and found a spot in the shadows from where he could watch the action at Barrington’s house.

Not much happened for the next quarter hour, and then a man in street clothes stepped outside. He looked back toward the door and seemed to be talking to someone inside.

Stone Barrington moved into the doorway.

Nico swore under his breath.

The lawyer smiled at something the other guy said. He then gave him a wave and reentered the house. He did not look like a person whose most prized possessions had just been destroyed.

“Oh, shit.”

Toby had failed.

Nico’s boss wasnotgoing to happy.

Chapter 8

The last of the police left as Joan arrived in the morning.

“What did I miss?” she asked Stone.

“A few unexpected visitors. I’m surprised they didn’t wake you.”

Stone owned the house next door, which had been divided into apartments, one of which Joan called home.

“I didn’t hear a thing,” she said.

“What is the name of that service that specializes in cleaning up crime scenes?”

“JN Associates?”

“That’s the one. See if they can come this morning and take care of the blood at the bottom of the stairs. I’d rather Helene didn’t have to deal with it.”

Joan arched an eyebrow.

“One of the intruders took a bullet to the chest,” he explained.

“You shot someone without me?”

“Sorry. There wasn’t time to call you first.”

“Likely story.”

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