The next thing I knew, I was "kidnapped" and brought to Riley's doorsteps. Ben sat down with a book in his hand and I pulled out my journal, writing down everything that happened in my dream since I forgot to write down my account before going to see Teacher. Riley came over eventually. Except something was missing…

"Where's the Ferrari?"

"IRS impounded it."

"The IRS?"

Huh. I didn't know they could do that.

"Funny story. My accountant set up a 'corporation' (wink) on an island that didn't exist and assured me that that's how 'rich' (wink) people do it. Then I got audited and slapped with a huge fine, plus interest! Wanna know what taxes are on 5 million dollars? 6 million dollars." He took a seat next to Ben. "But enough about me. What's new with you?"

"Well, my girlfriend kicked me out, I'm living with my dad, and my family killed President Lincoln."

"Alright."

I smirked and shook my head.

"I need your help."

And just like that, Ben hooked Riley into another crazy scheme, binding the three of us into another adventure.

"Did he drag you into this?" Riley asked me.

"Now see, that sounds a lot like a person I knew about a year ago when we did something else crazy. But it was crazier than what Ben here is going to pull you into," I answered.

It wasn't long before Ben, Riley, and I we on our way to Abigail's estate. Of course, she had told me that she was going out on a date with the White House's curator. This meant very easy access to the house with little to no trouble.

"I can't believe you have to break into your own house."

Actually, I'm not surprised.

"I need to get Abigail's ID. She has access to the Booth diary page."

"Why don't you ask Abigail for her help?"

"She changed the alarm code, Riley. She's not going to talk to me."

Uh, duh! I was staying here every now and then. I know what Abigail is thinking about half of the time.

We were at the door in due course.

"All right. We have 30 seconds after the alert starts to disable the alarm. Go."

We got in quickly and Riley set up his equipment to disable the alarm.

"I'll probably regret asking this, but what happened with you and Abigail?"

Here we go! Not really one to listen in on such pathetic talks.

"I don't know. I don't know. She started using the word 'so' a lot."

"'So?'"

"Yeah, like, 'So, I guess my opinion doesn't matter.' 'So, you seem to always know what's best.' 'So, I guess I'm invisible.' Now I've moved out, we're dividing furniture..."

Riley finished disabling the alarm.

"Women. Can't live with them, especially if they change the alarm codes."

Ben checked his watch.

"You did that in 25 seconds."

"That's why I tell people to get a dog."

And with very good reason.

We headed up to Abigail's office. Ben opened a drawer and pulled out her ID card.

"Got it."

"All right, let's go."

Suddenly, a car appears in the driveway.

"That's not Abigail's car. She was on a date."

Two people get out: a man and a woman. It's Abigail and he-whose-name-slips-my-mind.

"Isn't that that guy? The White House guy?"

The couple are chatting and making their way to the doors. I force down a gag reflex at the sight. I really didn't like the sight of that guy and Abigail together. That guy SHOULD be Ben.

"He's weird!"

"We get it, Riley. And now would be a very good time to get out of here before Abigail figures out that we broke into her house."

We try to hurry, but Abigail gets to the front door before any of us can leave. Riley walked to a doorway on the side while I hid beneath the staircase. Ben pretended to make his leave with a box just as Abigail and that guy come in.

"Oh, Abigail."

"What are you doing here?"

"I just needed to get some things. Connor, good to see you again."

"Gates."

That's his name! I accidentally snapped my fingers.

"Esther? Are you here, too?"

I stayed silent.

"I'm waiting."

How does she know these things!? I'm the best- oh never mind.

I stepped out, putting on my best smile.

"How did you get in, Ben?"

I looked down, trying to get the guilt put on me. But I never knew how to disable the alarm system. I mean, yeah, I've been sneaking into places for a living, but this was an alarm system that I wouldn't have a problem getting around. Most of the time, I cut the power off and then sneak in before the back-up generators kick in. But I think I didn't pass off as the person who gave entry to Ben because Abigail put her hands on her hips.

"Riley! Come out here!"

Riley came out from where I hid him.

"What? Hey! What are you doing here? I mean, it's your house, but... I sent you a copy of my book. Did you get a chance...?"

"No, I haven't read it yet."

Ouch.

"I know you. You're the White House curator. I'm Riley. We met, uh, back in..."

"Right. You're, uh, Ben's assistant."

"What?"

Double ouch.

"Um, maybe I should go."

"Yeah, I'm really..."

"Dinner tomorrow night?"

"I... I actually already have plans for tomorrow."

"You do?" I looked at Ben.

"Of course you do."

"But I'm free on Friday."

"Awkward."

Duly noted, Riley.

I turned my head away from the mushy stuff that would've definitely forced me to give an acted gag reflex. Connor left and Abigail made her way down the stairs to Ben.

"I cannot believe you broke in. What did you take?"

"It's just my things."

Abigail grabbed the box Ben had in his hand, empty I'm sure.

"Hand it over, Ben."

Ben sighed and handed the ID to Abigail.

"I need to see the Booth diary page."

"You saw the page yourself. There is no treasure map on it."

"No, it's a cipher leading to a map. Anyone spectral-image the page?"

"No need to. The ink writing on the page is clearly visible."

"It could have been erased or faded. You're the director of document conservation. You know this."

"Not up to me. It's not my department," Abigail finalized, making her way to a room down a hall.

"That department reports to your department. Come on. One look under infrared. You can have the Boston Tea Tables."

That stopped Abigail in her tracks. She was a very big history nut, so to speak. And something like the Boston Tea Tables was worth a lot more than money to Abigail. I mean, come on. If I were in her shoes, I would totally take the tea tables for historic value and not economic value. The good news is that Abigail thinks like that often. She turned on her heels back to us.

"Both of them?"

So bought it. And now, we start our adventure, once again. By dragging Abigail into the mess with her security clearance to see any and all documents.