Page 166 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

“Unlike your father-in-law, I paid attention during the meeting. The script is waiting for me on my nightstand.”

Monica raised an eyebrow. “I can think of several better things we can use the bed for other than reading.”

“Did I say nightstand? I meant my desk.”

“That’s better.”

Tessa grinned. “I see she already has your number.”

“Why, Tessa, whatever do you mean?”

Before she could reply, Billy walked up with Ben.

“I hope you all don’t mind if I borrowed my wife for a few moments,” Ben said. “There’s someone I’d like her to meet.”

“Not at all,” Stone said.

As soon as Ben and Tessa walked off, Billy said, “Petry and Savage arrived several minutes ago.”

“Are they with Sticks?”

Billy nodded.

“Then whatever they have planned is—”

Billy held up a hand and listened to something coming through his radio earpiece. He activated his mic and said, “License number?” He listened again. “Tell them you’re clearing a place for them to park and hold them there until I give you the word.” He looked at Stone and the others. “There’s a truck at the entrance, says they have a gift from another studio, congratulating Centurion on all its success.”

“It wouldn’t be a cube truck, would it?” Monica said.

“It is, and it’s the right license number, too.”

“Dino,” Stone said.

Dino pulled out his phone to call the police stationed nearbyand told them to move in. Before he could punch the number, an engine roared at the front of Billy’s property followed by shouts at the gate.

“He’s not waiting,” Stone said. “Viv, have your people move everyone to the terrace.” It was the farthest place from the parking area.

Strategic Services personnel began herding the guests to safety, while Stone and his friends remained behind.

The truck came into view as it careened off the side of a Mercedes. It banged over a curb and raced into the area near the tents. Grass and dirt flew into the air as the driver jammed to a stop.

Triggered by controls in the cab, the back door of the storage cube rolled up, and its front end began rising via hydraulics, like a dump truck.

Pieces of wood began clattering onto the ground, bringing with them the strong odor of lighter fluid. The box Rudy had built fell out next, cracking loudly as it hit the ground. And then the three forgeries slid out of the truck and landed on top of the wood.

—

“That’s it,” Benji said over the radio from inside the truck. “I’m out of here.”

Down at the party, Petry could see Benji jump out of the cab and run toward the wooded end of the property. He focused back on Barrington. The lawyer was looking at the pile upon which his mother’s paintings lay.

“That’s right. Nothing you can do now.”

“Shit,” Sticks said.

Petry lowered the binoculars and looked over. Several police cars were rushing onto Billy Barnett’s property, their lights flashing, and right behind them came two fire trucks.

Petry glared at Nico. “How the hell did they get here so fast?”

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