Treasure Hunt

Chapter 1

Burke Townhouse, Brooklyn, NY. Saturday night. January 10, 2004.

When the kitchen timer beeped, Elizabeth Burke pulled the layers of an Italian cream cake out of the oven. She would let them cool overnight and make the icing tomorrow on Peter's birthday. She made sure the cakes were safely out of reach — it was amazing the places their puppy Satchmo could climb if they weren't careful about where they left chairs — and returned to the living room where Peter was frowning at the Agatha Christie mystery they'd paused when the timer went off.

Peter had a routine for his birthdays, including a morning run, lingering over the New York Times crossword, bagels from his favorite deli, and watching a mystery with frequent pauses to discuss the clues and the detective's approach.

Usually between the bagels and the movie, Peter went to work and applied his puzzle-solving brain to FBI cases, but with his birthday falling on Sunday this year, that wasn't going to be an option. When he'd declined El's offer to get tickets to a basketball game or a show, saying he "just wanted to kick back and relax" she'd decided to visit their local video rental store to pick out a bunch of mysteries to keep them occupied this weekend.

The choices had been limited. Thursday night's snowstorm had sent people to the store in droves, and most of the videos hadn't been returned yet when she stopped by this morning. She'd found a collection of films featuring detective Hercule Poirot, and they'd seemed like the perfect compromise. Peter would enjoy the mysteries, and she'd enjoy the period costumes and settings.

His frown had her second-guessing her selection. She sat down on the sofa beside him and picked up the remote, her finger hovering over the eject button. "We don't have to keep watching if you don't like it."

He blinked and focused on her. "Sorry, hon. I'm just distracted."

El leaned back into the sofa and studied him. "Usually you get this way when a case isn't coming together, but you're not working a case now. You wrapped up your last one Thursday and spent Friday on the paperwork."

Now a shadow of a smile emerged on Peter's face. "I'm that predictable?"

"We've been married four years. I like to think I'm an observant spouse. I just wish..." She shook her head.

"What?"

"I don't want to complain this weekend when we're supposed to be celebrating your birthday."

"Maybe my birthday wish is to learn what would make you happier," Peter suggested.

She chose her words carefully. "I wish you'd confide in me more. About things that bother you. Stuff at work, cases, anything. You don't have to shield me." Before he could protest she rushed to say, "Not the confidential parts. I understand there are things that can't be made public about your cases, but it's normal to complain about your colleagues and so forth. It seemed like we'd had a breakthrough over New Year's. You told me the story about Neal rescuing a cat while undercover..." She trailed off when Peter frowned again. "It's something about Neal, isn't it? He's what's distracting you tonight. Can you tell me about it?"

"This calls for a beer. Do you want one?" When El declined, Peter strode to the kitchen and returned with one bottle of beer, which he placed on a table beside the sofa. He remained standing, looking too wound up to sit. "All of that stuff Wednesday night... it got into my head on Thursday."

El nodded. On Wednesday night Neal Caffrey and his cousin Henry Winslow stayed over. Henry conducted some kind of psychological experiment. Peter and Neal had known he was doing it, but from what El could glean, the experiment wasn't exactly what Henry had led them to believe.