Page 157 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

“That’s not—” Simon stopped himself. Getting into an argument wouldn’t solve anything; he also didn’t want the paintings in his possession any longer than necessary. “What is the latest time I can come by?”

“Hold on.”

The line was muted again.

What the hell was Rudy doing? Consulting a paper calendar or something?

Rudy returned and said, “Seven.”

“Seven? You can’t do any later?” Simon didn’t bother hiding his annoyance.

“You know, you’re kind of a son of a bitch. I’m starting to think I’m busy all day.”

Simon took a deep breath. “My apologies. I have a lot going on, so I’m a bit stressed.”

“And that’s my problem how?”

In as contrite a tone as he could manage, Simon said, “Seven p.m. will be fine.”

A new call lit up his phone. His eyes widened when he saw the caller ID. It was Phillip.

“I need to go. See you tonight.” Simon punched the button to switch calls. “Phillip? Where the hell have you been?”

Chapter 47

Twenty-five minutes earlier in a house still under construction, sixty miles north, the rope securing Phillip’s left hand finally gave way. He caught it before it flopped onto the floor, then glanced at the guy sleeping in a chair next to the room’s only door. The man didn’t stir.

While it had taken most of the night to cut through the one rope, it only took a minute to remove the ones around his other hand and his ankles.

He stretched to get the blood flowing and rose to his feet. He hurt everywhere, but he could deal with that later.

He silently moved to the sleeping man and snapped the guy’s neck so quickly, the guard hadn’t had time to wake.

A search of the body turned up a seven-inch knife and a Smith & Wesson .45-caliber pistol.

He listened at the door but heard nothing, so he eased it open and slipped through.

Seven minutes later, he stood in front of the door to the master bedroom. Scattered throughout the house behind him were the lifeless bodies of the assholes who’d kidnapped him. The only one missing was their boss. And Nico and Petry, of course. But he didn’t expect them to be here.

Phillip shoved the door open, startling the naked couple lying on a mattress in the middle of the room.

“What the fuck?” the boss said. Then he realized who it was and dove toward a pistol on the floor.

Phillip pulled the Smith & Wesson’s trigger and the concrete just in front of the boss’s fingers shattered into dozens of shards.

The man jerked back.

Phillip gestured to the pistol on the floor. “Ma’am, kick that over to me, will you.”

The woman looked at the boss.

“Don’t you dare,” he said.

“I wouldn’t worry about what he says if I were you,” Phillip said.

The woman hesitated for only a moment before getting up.

The boss tried to lunge for her, so Phillip shot him in the shoulder, knocking him back.

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