Smoke.
He slowed as he took the bend, then screeched to a stop, barely keeping from ramming into the back of the delivery van.
The van was sitting in the middle of the lane, its back doors wide open and its cargo area empty.
But Teddy had no time to even think about that, because approximately thirty feet on the other side of the van, at least three trees and several bushes were on fire.
He dialed 911 as he hopped out of his car and ran up to the van’s cab. Two men were inside, both either unconscious or dead.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“There’s a brushfire,” he said. “Hollywood Hills, not far off Mulholland.” He relayed his exact location.
“And your name?”
“Billy Barnett. There are also two men unconscious in a van nearby. I need to get them away before the flames reach them. I’ll take them to my house.”
“You live nearby?”
“Yes.” He gave her his address. “Please hurry. There are a lot of homes up here.”
He hung up without giving her a chance to ask another question.
His first thought was to take the van, as his Porsche did not have a back seat, but he couldn’t find the key. While it would be a squeeze, the roadster would have to do.
He manhandled the driver out of his seat and was relieved to find that the guy was still breathing. He placed him as carefully as possible in the Porsche’s front passenger seat.
He retrieved the second man — who was thankfully also still alive — and laid him half on top of his partner, and half leaning on the door.
Teddy jumped behind the wheel, made a U-turn, and sped away from the fire. He was halfway home when several fire engines raced past him in the other direction. Given that the fire was relatively small, he thought their chances of containing it were good.
He hit the remote for his gate as he neared it, drove through as soon as it was wide enough, then tapped a second button on the remote that would keep the gate open.
As soon as he parked, he laid both men on his driveway, then checked them for injuries. Neither had anything obvious.
His phone vibrated.
“Mr. Barnett, it’s June Marnell. Were you able to locate the van?”
He gave her a quick explanation of what he’d found.
“Is the delivery team okay?” she asked.
“I’ll leave that determination to the doctors. But they seem to be breathing normally and are not in distress.”
“Oh, thank God.”
What she said next was drowned out by three rapid trills coming from the phone. A message appeared on the screen:
Brushfire in your vicinity.
You are urged to evacuate the area.
“Sorry,” Teddy said. “I need to go.”
“I’ll contact you again later.”
A news helicopter flew over his house toward the fire. As the sound of the rotors faded, a wail of sirens took its place. The whooping grew louder and louder until two ambulances turned into his driveway, with a police car following them.
While EMTs assessed the unconscious men, Teddy gave his account of what he’d found to a pair of police officers.
The officers’ radios crackled to life. “Be advised, evacuation order lifted. Fire has been contained.”
Teddy felt the tension he’d been holding on to ebb. If he hadn’t discovered the fire and reported it when he had, it would have been a completely different story.
Chapter 23
Simon arrived in Los Angeles mid-afternoon. Dalton had insisted on tagging along. That was fine by Simon. He wanted to keep Dalton close so there would be no delay in dealing with him when the time came.
Phillip had taken an earlier flight and was waiting for them at the curb outside baggage claim when they exited the terminal.
Without a word, Phillip took their bags and placed them in the trunk of the town car.
Dalton had started to get into the back with Simon, but Simon blocked his way. “You’re in front.”
“Why?”
“I have business to conduct that is of no concern to you.”
Dalton’s expression turned suspicious. “How do I know that?”
“Because I just told you.”
“We’re partners now, remember?”
“We are not partners in all of my business dealings. And in the part that we are, my decisions will be made without your input. Now, get in the front.”
Dalton grumbled but did as he was told, and soon the town car joined the mass of vehicles making the slow trek out of LAX.
Simon raised the privacy barrier and called his brother. “Well?”
“All done.”
“You got it?”
“Yeah.”
“Any issues?”
“Um, not really.”
Simon’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
“Nothing big. We got the painting. Everything’s fine.”
“What happened?”
“The fire we used as a distraction flared up again after we left. It’s no big deal. The fire department put it out before it could damage any homes.”
“I told you not to cause a scene.” It had been an impossible task, given the nature of what they had been doing, but drawing more attention to the theft was not something Simon wanted.
“It’s fine. The only casualties are a few trees.”
“That’s not the point! I need you to do what I tell you, no matter what.”
“I know. I’m sorry. We thought we’d put it out. I should have double-checked. Won’t happen again.”
Benji had always been a thorn in Simon’s side. They were fifteen years apart and shared the same father. Simon would have broken off all contact with him years ago if it weren’t for the fact that Benji was willing to do whatever Simon asked of him. Having someone like that in his pocket had been very handy.
“Where are you now?” Simon asked.
“A motel in the Valley. North Hollywood, I think.”
“Text me the address. I’ll come to you.”
As expected, the motel in which Benji had chosen to hold up was a dingy place. Simon was loath to set foot in it, but he supposed it was better than meeting someplace like the Hotel Bel-Air, where his brother would stand out like the proverbial sore thumb.
“Stay here until I call you,” Simon told Phillip and Dalton.
“What are we doing here?” Dalton asked.
“We are not doing anything. I am.”
Simon exited the car and slammed the door shut.
He found Benji’s room at the far end of the first floor, and his knock was quickly answered by Benji’s partner Devin.
“Hey, Simon.”
Simon pushed past him without responding. The fire guy with the stupid nickname was on a bed, eyes on his phone. There was no sign of Benji.
“Where’s my brother?”
From the back of the room came the sound of a flushing toilet and then a door opening.
“I’m here,” Benji said. He walked into the room, still zipping up his pants.
Simon glared and said, “The painting?”
“In the trunk of our car.”
“You left it in your car?”
“I didn’t think you’d want anyone to see us bring it inside.”
Benji had a point, not that Simon was going to acknowledge it. “Show me.”
“Sure.” Benji headed for the door, and Simon followed.
The car was backed into the spot directly outside of Benji’s room. After his brother opened the trunk, Simon leaned in, peeled back a portion of the plastic covering the package, and gazed excitedly at the canvas.
“Absolutely lovely.”
“Yeah, it’s nice, isn’t it?” Benji said.
A retort leaped onto Simon’s tongue, but he bit it back and said, “Bring it to the gallery at midnight. Phillip will meet you at the back entrance.”