"No," Frank said, shaking his head. "I met someone at the museum and wanted to check him out. Callie understood."

"Must be someone important then," Joe said. "Give."

Frank shook his head. "You first. Tell me about this girl."

"Her name is Marie," Joe obliged, sitting down on Frank’s bed. "She goes to boarding school in England but she’s home on vacation and is trying to talk her dad into letting her stay here," he quickly continued seeing Frank’s frown.

Joe gave a sigh. "Look. I admit I didn’t really want to go out with anyone and not because I wasn’t interested in them. The girls at school are nice. And, honestly, I wouldn’t mind going out with Kelly Arlene."

"Then why..." Frank began but Joe kept talking.

"I didn’t want to go out with anyone because I was afraid of getting hurt again," Joe confessed.

"But you’ve changed your mind," Frank observed, reading Joe’s body language. "Why?"

"Marie," Joe informed him. "She wanted to know why I hadn’t been dating after Vanessa and I found myself telling her. Everything. She’s really easy to talk to. You’re going to like her."

Frank remained silent waiting for Joe to continue. "She made me realize I’m not cursed. I’m blessed. I’ve lost two wonderful women but I had them. They loved me as much as I loved them. Not many people can say that."

"So, you’re okay now?" Frank asked. Joe nodded. Frank let out a big sigh.

"I’m sorry, bro," Joe said. "I know you were worried about me."

"That’s what big brothers do," Frank replied, brushing away his apology.

"No. That’s what my big brother does," Joe corrected him with a smile. "Now. Who is this guy you couldn’t wait to find out more about."

"Cooper Sorrel," Frank answered.

Joe’s forehead crinkled in thought. "The name sounds vaguely familiar," he said, getting off the bed and going to stand beside Frank who had sat down at his desk and was pulling up an image on his computer monitor.

"He should," Frank said. "He’s the new Mafia boss." A picture popped up and Joe gazed at it. There was something about the man he recognized but he couldn’t place what it was. "I wonder what he was doing at the museum."

"Trying to buy a painting," Frank informed him. He went on to tell Joe about the conversation he had overheard.

"Well, at least he doesn’t want a confrontation," Joe said. "That would be a good thing."

"Afraid?" Frank asked.

"No," Joe denied. "Dad would win."

"I am," Frank admitted. "Dad might win the fight but a lot of people could get hurt in the process. Unless he starts something, I, for one, am going to stay out of his way," he concluded as the phone rang.

"Hello," Joe answered it. "Yes, Sir." He paused a moment as the caller spoke. "Yes, Sir. We’re on our way."

"Who was it?" Frank asked as Joe replaced the receiver.

"The curator at the museum, Ralph Benson," Joe answered. "He said he needs for us to go to the museum immediately."

"Why?"

"A Renoir painting has been stolen."

Frank and Joe arrived at the museum less than half an hour later. Frank knew they had just begun a war. The Renoir was the painting Sorrel had wanted. He knew there was no way he would pay a million dollars for it when he could just have someone take it.

The door opened as the boys approached and Benson exited to greet them. "The museum closed at six," he informed the boys. "The painting was there when the security guard checked the floor. When the night guard arrived at eight, the painting was missing. No alarm went off," he ended his tone frantic.

"A two-hour time frame isn’t too bad," Joe noted. "Have you checked the premises? The thief could still around."

"Both guards and I have been searching the premises but so far, no one has been found and there has been no sign of an intruder," Benson responded.

"Except for the alarm system that failed to go off," Frank said.

"That’s right," Benson agreed, nodding.

"Why aren’t the police here?" Joe asked, looking around.

"I didn’t call them," Benson confessed.

"Why not?" Frank demanded, surprised.

"You heard him. He wanted that painting," Benson said, reminding Frank of earlier that afternoon. "If I call the police on Sorrel, I’m as good as dead!" He looked at the boys beseechingly. "You two have to get the painting back."

"If Sorrel did take it, then the police will have to be involved," Joe pointed out.

"What do you mean, if?" Benson demanded angrily.

"He tried to buy it," Joe stated. "It would be incredibly stupid to steal it after that."

"But...but who else could have broken in here and taken it without setting off an alarm?" Benson demanded.

"He does have a point," Frank said to Joe. "My money is on Sorrel. But," he added, seeing Joe about to argue. "You are right too. It could be a coincidence." He turned to the curator. "You have to report the theft," Frank insisted. "If something happens and the painting does not turn up, the museum won’t be able to collect any insurance for its loss nor would the owner."

"Fine," agreed Benson, his lips tight. "But I will not mention Sorrel. I’m leaving that up to you two."