Page 82 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

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Stone called Peter and found out both he and Ben Bacchetti were free for lunch. Stone and Dino met them at the Centurion Pictures cantina, where their sons had already claimed a table on the exterior patio. Billy Barnett was with them.

The boys rose and hugged their fathers. Then Billy shook their hands.

“I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along,” Billy said.

“That was my doing,” Peter said. “He and I were meeting when you called.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Stone said. “Always happy to see you, Billy.”

They ordered and their meals arrived soon after.

To Billy, Peter said, “You should tell my dad what happened.”

“Nothing serious, I hope,” Stone said.

“A bit serious,” Billy conceded. “I purchased a painting at auction that was to be delivered yesterday. The delivery van was ambushed and robbed before it arrived.”

“Was anyone injured?”

Billy shook his head. “According to the two men in the vehicle, the thieves used a knockout spray that rendered them unconscious.”

“That sounds familiar,” Stone said.

Billy nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“You’re talking about the spray the Russians used on Carly in New York,” Dino said.

“Do you think the thieves were with the mob?” Ben asked.

“No way to know,” Stone said, “but I doubt the Russians have a monopoly on the stuff.”

“Billy, you said things could have been a lot worse,” Peter said.

“True. The robbers stopped the van by forcing it down a road blocked by a fire.”

“Fire?” Stone said, Monica’s investigation immediately coming to mind.

“A guy in a uniform sprayed them before they could turn the van around, stole the painting, and left. Luckily, I got there before the fire spread too far. I called nine-one-one and got the delivery guys out of there.”

“Do the police have any idea who did it?” Dino asked.

“None. I’ve asked Mike Freeman to look into it, too.”

“That’s a good idea,” Stone said. “I’m sure the painting will turn up soon.”

“I hope you’re right. I bought it for you.”

“For me?”

“It’s one of your mother’s. I was going to give it to you at the party Saturday night.”

“Billy, I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing to say until I get it back.”

“Which picture was it?”

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