Page 124 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

“Where the hell are you going?” Benji said. “You have to help me.”

There was a moment when it looked like Sticks was going to ignore him, but he came back and Benji passed the painting to him before scaling the fence himself. They hurried back to their car.

Devin wasn’t there yet. They climbed in, and Benji started the engine, but didn’t put it into gear.

“We gotta go!” Sticks said.

“We’re waiting for Devin.”

“Fuck Devin. If he got out, he would have radioed us by now.”

Benji had completely forgotten about the radio. He checked his mic. It was still on. “Devin, you there?”

Silence.

“Devin?”

Still nothing.

“Maybe his radio broke.”

“Right, sure.” Sticks clearly didn’t believe that. “Come on, Benji. Maybe he got caught, maybe he didn’t. Whatever happened, we’re dead meat if we don’t go.”

Benji scowled, then started the car, knowing Sticks was right.

Once they were safely on the freeway heading north, he called his brother.

“Did you get it?” Simon said, through the car’s speakers.

“We did, but—”

“Then why are you calling me? It’s…after midnight.”

“We might have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Something might have happened to Devin.”

“Mighthave?”

“Things went sideways before we left the house. The owner saw us. Sticks and I got away with the painting, but I don’t know what happened to Devin. I can’t reach him.”

“He’s probably just—how do you say it?—lying low.”

Memory of the gunshot echoed in Benji’s mind. “I’m not so sure.”

“You got the painting. That’s what matters.”

“Except the guy we took it from knows it didn’t burn.”

There was a long pause in which Benji feared his brother realized the severity of the situation. Instead of addressing it directly, though, Simon’s tone simply turned low and threatening. “I’ll be at the gallery tomorrow morning by nine-thirty. I expect you to be waiting for me.”

He hung up.

“Devin was right,” Sticks said. “Your brother is an asshole.”

Benji sighed. “He is.”

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