"No point in dusting for prints," Frank said resignedly. "None were found the last time."
"When did your admirer return?" Joe wondered, his face broken out in a scowl.
"It must have been while Mom and I were both out," Frank replied. "Mom told me she had left right after lunch and was on her way home so the window of opportunity was between twelve thirty and going on four."
"That's great!" Joe enthused, his face brightening up. "Now all we have to do is find out where our suspects were at that time."
"I hope it is one of our suspects," Frank said. "If it isn't, and Reynolds is right, it could be anyone."
"Think positive, brother dear," Joe reprimanded him, portraying the optimist. "Anything disturbed in your room? Apart from your computer, obviously?"
"I never checked," admitted Frank. The two boys went into Frank's bedroom. Joe began taking tags off of Frank's new clothes while Frank looked around his room.
"Nothing missing or out of place," Frank finally reported.
"That's good," Joe said. "I like this one," he added, holding up a bright neon green shirt. "Can I borrow it?"
"Actually, I got that one for you," Frank told him, grinning. "It just screamed "Joe!"."
"Thanks!" Joe accepted the gift with a huge smile on his face. "I'll wear it to school tomorrow."
"Speaking of which, I didn't mean to interrupt you," Frank apologized.
"No sweat," Joe replied. "I only have one page of trig problems."
"Oh," Frank said. "You should have said," he continued. "I wouldn't have offered to help."
"You wouldn't?" Joe asked in surprise.
"No way," Frank denied empathetically. "I'll only help with something you actually need help with: like memorizing dates, people and events in history."
Joe wrinkled his nose. "I hate history."
"I know," Frank told him. "That's why I don't mind helping you with it."
Joe took his new shirt and headed toward his own room. He stopped at the entrance to the bathroom door and turned back to face Frank, feeling like a heel for doubting his brother's faith in him. "Thanks," he said, then turned and left without explaining.
Frank cocked an eyebrow at Joe's retreating back then shrugged and returned to putting away his new clothes. He would do his homework once they returned from Stoney's Gym.
Fenton leaned back and set his fork down. When he had returned home he had expected one of two things: a quiet evening with the boys staying home and spending some quality time with their parents or a mystery in the air with Joe deep in the middle. He would never have imagined a stalker would have targeted his eldest son.
"I don't think it's a wise idea for you to go anywhere alone," Fenton told Frank. "Until this person is caught, I want your brother with you at all times unless you are at home."
"But someone's gotten in twice," Joe pointed out. "He isn't exactly safe here."
"Was the alarm on when the break-ins occurred?" inquired Fenton.
"No," Laura confessed. "It's been so quiet around here lately, I've forgotten to arm the system when I leave." She looked at Frank. "I'm sorry, honey."
"From now until this is over, the alarm is to remain on all of the time," Fenton decreed. "It will be disarmed only when someone has arrived or is leaving. Is it on now?" Frank and Joe looked at each other and blushed. Laura gave her husband an apologetic look.
Fenton stood up. "Frank, check the attic and upstairs. Joe, you take the basement and this floor. I will check the kitchen and garage. Laura, you wait in the kitchen and when we give you the all clear, turn the alarm on."
"The garage is clear," Fenton stated a few minutes later when he reentered the kitchen.
"There isn't anyone upstairs," said Frank, entering the kitchen two minutes later. "Joe not done?"
"We will help him finish up," Fenton decided. "Go ahead and turn it on," he instructed Laura.
Laura keyed in the password and security code. "All set," she said, her words drowning as the alarm went off.
"Joe must have set it off," Frank groaned, hurrying out of the kitchen with his father on his heels.
"Dad!" Frank shouted in alarm, seeing the front door and the basement door both wide open. Frank ran down the basement steps, and fell to his knees beside the prone figure of his younger brother.
"Joe," he gasped softly, his brown eyes wide with fear. Joe's blond hair was covered with blood!