Chapter 21

On Monday morning at the Centurion Pictures lot in Los Angeles, a preproduction meeting was just wrapping up for Peter Barrington's next feature. In addition to Peter, the participants included Ben Bacchetti, head of Centurion and one of the film's main producers; Billy Barnett, the film's other main producer; the line producer; various department heads for such things as costumes, sets, lighting, locations, and transportation; and a handful of assistants.

Billy Barnett's real name was Teddy Fay, but only a handful of trusted people knew that. As far as most of the world knew, Teddy—a former member of the CIA—had died in a plane crash several years ago. A master of disguise, he had created his Billy Barnett identity so that he could operate freely in Hollywood.

"When do you think you can have a revised schedule?" Billy asked the line producer.

She looked over her notes. "Lunchtime tomorrow okay?"

"Good by me. Ben?"

"Me, too," Ben said. "Anyone else have something we need to discuss?"

There were head shakes all around.

"Great. We'll meet again next week same time."

As everyone stood and began gathering their things, Stacy Lange—Billy's personal assistant—leaned toward him and whispered, "Party."

"Right." He raised his voice and said, "Those of you who are helping with the party on Saturday following the board of directors meeting, make sure you let Stacy know if you need anything. No last-minute hitches, please." He glanced at Stacy. "That was it, right?"

She gave him a thumbs-up and joined the line heading out the door.

"Billy, Peter and I are going to grab lunch," Ben said. "You want to join us?"

Billy checked his watch. "No time. I need to be at my house by two."

"That's right," Peter said. "Today's the day."

"It is, indeed."

"The day for what?" Ben asked.

"The surprise for my dad," Peter said.

"Oh, right. Hey, Billy, are we going to get a sneak peek?"

"Don't even bother asking," Peter said. "I've already tried. Billy says no one sees it until Dad does."

"One hundred percent correct," Billy said.

"You're no fun," Ben said.

"I'm a producer. I'm not supposed to be fun." Billy pulled the strap of his leather briefcase over his shoulder. "Now, if you gentlemen are done wasting my time, I'll be off."

Benji grabbed his phone the moment it started to vibrate. "Yeah?"

"Just turned into the canyon." Devin's voice was almost lost in the growl of the motorcycle he was riding.

"You sure they haven't seen you?"

"They have no clue I'm here."

"Keep it that way. ETA?"

"Fifteen minutes, give or take."

"Let me know when you're about to turn onto Mulholland Drive." Reaching Mulholland would put Devin less than ten minutes out.

Benji reached over and gave Sticks a shake.

The wiry man groaned and yawned, slowly parting his eyelids. "Is it time?"

"They're on their way up. Get into position."

Sticks stretched like he had all the time in the world.

"Now, if you don't mind," Benji said.

"All right, all right. I'm going. Chill out."

"And put your earpiece in."

Sticks grumbled and shoved his Bluetooth earpiece in place as he climbed out of the car.

The Ford Taurus they'd stolen had been dressed up to look like a security company patrol car. There were at least a dozen such companies serving the homes in the Hollywood Hills, so even though the logo on the vehicle's door was for a company that didn't exist, no one would question their validity. To complete the look, Benji and Sticks wore matching security guard uniforms.

The road they were on had been chosen because it was on their target's route, was little used, and had a convenient bend twenty yards from the closest intersection, that took vehicles into a blind spot perfect for Benji and his crew's needs.

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 low whoosh.

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.