Page 65 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

As soon as Sticks disappeared around the bend, Benji turned on his walkie-talkie.

“Sticks, come in.” Nothing. “Sticks, you hearing me?”

Something clicked on the line, then, “For God’s sake, I hear you.”

“Is everything still set?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Benji took a breath, and reminded himself that anyone who had a passion for arson was bound to have more than a few screws loose.

His phone vibrated with another call from Devin.

“About to turn onto Mulholland.”

“Excellent. We’re ready and waiting. Turn on your walkie. You should be in range.”

A moment later, Devin’s voice came over the radio. “Check. Check.”

“I read you,” Benji said. “Sticks, they’re almost here.”

Around the bend, Sticks grinned.Finally, he thought.

He began moving dry tree branches into the middle of the road from where he and Benji had piled them on the shoulder. The road was narrow, with bushes and trees lining both sides, so by the time he finished, there was no way to drive around the low barrier he’d created.

“Two minutes,” Devin announced.

Sticks doused the wood with lighter fluid, then started counting in his head. When he reached sixty, he flicked on his lighter, set a handful of twigs ablaze, and threw them on the pile.

The wood burst into flames with a lowwhoosh.

He grinned like a schoolboy at the sound, then beamed as the inferno filled the road.

Back around the bend, Benji had already repositioned to the T-bone intersection from where their prey would be coming. Their scheduled route would have taken them straight through, but now a delineator blocked the way.

Benji turned on his mic. “Status?”

“We’re almost there,” Devin said.

“Anyone else around?”

“No one.”

Benji donned a face mask and sunglasses, then strode out to the barrier. He heard the auction house’s delivery van a few seconds before he saw it. He began signaling for the van to turn down the less-used road.

It slowed as it approached, then instead of turning, it stopped. The driver rolled down his window. “Is there a problem?”

“Brushfire ahead,” Benji said. He pointed again toward the other road. “This route will get you down the hill.”

As hoped, the mention of a fire sparked fear in the driver’s eyes.

“Sir, we need to keep traffic moving.” Benji motioned again toward the other road.

The driver nodded, then turned down the road, all according to plan.

Following right behind him was Devin. Once both vehicles made the turn, Benji moved the delineator onto the road behind them, blocking the route to any other traffic.

Chapter 22

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