Page 170 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Dino said.

“It was a busy day.”

“Did we or did we not discuss you carrying tonight?”

“I seem to recall something about that, but I’m not clear on the details.”

The radio came to life with Teddy’s voice. “I saw a muzzle flash. Are you guys okay?”

“He wasn’t shooting at us,” Dino replied. “Where are you?”

“Thirty yards behind you.”

Stone glanced at the mirror and saw the Porsche’s headlights.

“Are you guys armed?”

“Funny, we were just discussing that,” Dino said. “I am, but…”

“Stone forgot.”

“That he did.”

“Open the glove compartment,” Teddy said. “There’s a button just inside, on the left.”

Dino found the button and pushed. The top of the compartment lowered. Clipped to it were a SIG Sauer P226 pistol, silencer, and one spare magazine.

He clicked the mic button. “Found it. Very nice. Now he’s armed.”

A few moments later, the black BMW took a sharp turn onto Mulholland Drive. Phillip shoved his gun back into his jacket before speeding through the turn, almost T-boned by a sedan going in the other direction.

As the Audi reached the intersection, Stone slowed enough to take a quick look at traffic before slamming down on the accelerator and slipping through a slot between cars to rejoin the chase.

Dino contacted Viv again and updated her, as the chase wove around the other vehicles, drawing honks and flashing headlights.

Phillip tried to pull alongside the BMW several times, but each time Petry whipped the wheel toward him, forcing the motorcycle to fall back.

At Laurel Canyon Boulevard, Petry turned south toward West Hollywood, and the motorcycle and the Audi followed. As traffic got worse, Petry veered into the oncoming lanes, forcing vehicles heading up the hill to swerve out of his way.

“Hold on,” Stone said, then did the same.

A Tesla missed them by mere inches, but Stone was able to return to the right lane unscathed.

“If you could try not to kill me tonight, I’d appreciate it,” Dino said.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

When they reached the bottom of the hill, a spotlight lit up the BMW from above. Stone looked at the sky and spotted three helicopters, one the LAPD chopper with the light, and two from local news outlets.

“Smile,” Dino said. “I think we’re on TV.”

—

Petry flew through the intersection at Santa Monica Boulevard, causing several vehicles to plow into each other in his wake.

He had no idea where he was going. At first, he’d just been trying to get away from the psycho on the motorcycle. But now he had this damn light on him, which meant the cops wouldn’t be far behind.

What he needed was an enclosed parking garage where he could ditch the BMW and make a run for it.

---