Chapter 2

Twelve years earlier….

It had been a rough week for Peter Burke. He had been enduring the unwelcome company of a new probie agent. The young man, Ryan Connolly, had been shadowing Peter with excessive zeal. Ryan seemed like a friendly sort, fresh out of the FBI academy, eager to excel but very inexperienced. His major fault was indecisiveness. With any issue not expressly covered by the handbook, Connolly verified, confirmed and revalidated the proper procedure with the more senior agent. Burke was beginning to identify his new assistant as an irritating gnat buzzing around his ear.

What was especially galling about the situation pertained to one of Peter's current cases involving a recent art theft at a small gallery in midtown Manhattan. The Thomas Gallery on East 82 Street specialized in the art of the 19th and early 20th century. A John Singer Sargent watercolor painting was reported missing from the gallery. Although it was one of the artist's lesser known works it was still an embarrassing loss to the proprietor. Anxious for the recovery, the gallery owner had placed pressure on Peter's supervisor for a quick resolution. Connolly's presence at Peter's side seemed to hinder his movements causing delays within the investigation.

The suspected perpetrator of the robbery, a little-known bandit named Simon Wheeler, was a minor player in white collar crimes. He had, in the past, often returned to the same crime scene for repeat thefts. Peter had requested a surveillance team to monitor the gallery in the hope that Wheeler would return.

A witness in the case had endeared herself to the agent. Elizabeth Roth, the young assistant manager, had spied a suspicious individual loitering in the gallery several days before the theft. Peter had questioned her at length several times and found her to be an excellent eyewitness. She was not only astute and informative but friendly, vivacious, and extremely attractive. He made it a point to stop by and converse with her whenever possible. Of course, when Connolly was by his side it limited his ability to discreetly gather personal information. Peter had cautiously asked the surveillance team to observe Miss Roth for any visitors she might entertain while at work. He hoped to surreptitiously discover if there were any boyfriends in her life.

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On Thursday afternoon of that hectic week, Burke and Connolly paid a visit to the gallery. Peter hesitated in the doorway until he spied Elizabeth at the far counter. She was laughing at something her coworker, Shelley Meyers, had just uttered. Meyers, catching sight of the two men, giggled and elbowed Elizabeth. Elizabeth looked up and gave both men a friendly wave. She directed her captivating smile toward Peter.

"Agent Burke," greeted the lovely brunette, "we were hoping to see you again."

Approaching the service counter, Peter was inwardly captivated by her reception. Not many people responded so well to the presence of federal agents. He was enamored by her angelic face, warm smile and arresting blue eyes.

"Have you had any further leads on the case?" Elizabeth questioned. She leaned forward on the counter and Peter caught a whiff of tantalizing perfume. Should he ask her out on a date? Would that be a conflict of interest? Did he care if it was? Would his pursuit of her be rejected out of hand?

Agent Connolly grinned and responded to Elizabeth's question. "We hope to catch the crook on our surveillance monitor," he declared. The junior agent winked at Shelly Meyers who responded with a flirtatious look.

Peter sighed and motioned for Connolly to step back from the counter. He took out his small notebook and looked for his pen. Patting down his pockets he failed to find one. Elizabeth noticing his distress searched for the office pens that were usually left out on the counter for customers.

"All my pens are missing too," she noted with dismay. "People walk off with them all the time. One customer even took my special pen that was a gift from my dad at college graduation."

"People will walk off with anything you leave out," Peter noted with a nod. "I'm sorry you lost your pen."

Connolly glanced from Peter to Elizabeth. He was inwardly amused with the pair. It was obvious to him that the analytical, no-nonsense, by-the-book, government agent had a school boy crush on the assistant manager! Burke's reputation in the unit might be pristine but he had no aptitude for amorous flirtation. Who cared about missing pens? Burke wasn't going to get anywhere with the girl if he didn't ask her out. Connolly moved closer to Shelley and made a dismissive gesture behind Peter's back. Shelley smiled but Elizabeth was angered.

"I was going to write out a note for you," said Peter. "Would you make a list for me of any customers you felt were acting unusual, in any way, the past several weeks? Any of your regulars who were upset or curious about gallery security measures?" He paused and added, "We've narrowed down a suspect but I want to tie up any other loose ends."

"Of course," Elizabeth responded warmly.

Peter directed Connolly to follow Shelley Meyers into the backroom for a list of additional John Singer Sargent paintings and prints owned by the Thomas Gallery. With the two out of earshot, Elizabeth smiled and reminded him of their past discussions about local restaurants. They conversed pleasantly for a few minutes and Peter mentioned that he was partial to Italian cuisine. As he gathered his courage to ask her out, Connolly returned from the back and Peter lost the moment. He glanced at his unwelcome assistant and inwardly groaned. There was no way he would make a public display of his attraction for Elizabeth Roth.

The two agents said their goodbyes to Elizabeth and Shelley. Peter directed Connolly to stay with the surveillance team and he headed back to the office in the agency vehicle.

During the drive back to FBI headquarters Peter Burke mused over the attraction he felt for Elizabeth. He had all but given up on the fantasy of finding a special woman to share his life. Due to his taxing agency schedule, desire to excel in his field, and lack of free time, his previous dates had all ended in failure. He was not a man given to social chitchat, flirtation or idle compliments. When he attempted to steer conversation to the safe topics of sports, work or current events the women he dated had seemed unimpressed or downright bored. Any witty repartee he managed to eke out seemed to fall on unresponsive ears.

Still considered a junior agent in the white collar unit, Peter Burke had placed himself on the fast track for success. His priority was the bureau. He placed his time, talent and energy foremost in his profession. How could he possibly ask any woman to share that kind of life? He couldn't even get past the casual acquaintance stage without angering a new girlfriend over his agency commitment. Who would bother to look past his work ethic to discover the man he really was inside? Yet, Peter had begun to sense a deep need in his life for something other than his career. Would he always endure a rather lonely personal life? Now in his early thirties he had begun to contemplate the appeal of marriage.

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Shortly before dinnertime, Peter received a call from his junior assistant. Connolly, with an amused tone to his voice, requested his presence back at the gallery.

"What do you need now, Connolly?" Peter queried in a weary voice. "This better be good."

"Oh this is good, Agent Burke. Only you can handle this situation. I don't want to spoil the surprise," answered the young man.

Peter was annoyed. He scowled at the phone in his hand. "I don't like cryptic messages from probie agents," was his rebuke.

Connolly countered with the remark, "you'll like this one."

Mystified, Burke drove back to 82nd Street. As he climbed out of the sedan, Connolly met him across the street from the gallery. In his hand was a small snapshot. The photo contained the likeness of Elizabeth Roth, posing in front of her store holding a sign. The handwritten caption on the sign read, "I love Italian". Peter's face turned a shade red with embarrassment as he realized that Elizabeth had taken it upon herself to initiate a dinner date with him! Elizabeth was bold enough to make a public display.

"I saw Elizabeth come out of the gallery and look toward our van," Connolly explained with amusement as he scrutinized Peter's face. "She held up the sign and asked if you were nearby. I took a photo for you with our instant camera. Cute, huh?"

"Cute," replied Peter.

He straightened his tie and crossed over the street. In the doorway, waiting for him, was Elizabeth smiling.

"I hope you're not mad," she remarked as he approached her. Peter smiled broadly and shook his head. He gently took hold of her arm.

"Mad about what?" he asked as he looked down at her.

"Elizabeth, do you have plans for tomorrow night? I wanted to invite you to dinner. Would you like to try Antonucci's?" Peter paused, " I could pick you up around 7PM."

Elizabeth crossed her arms and pretended to consider the idea. After a moment's hesitation, she agreed. "I would like that very much."

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"Now we're getting to the good part," slurred Mozzie.

Mozzie and Peter had vacated the table and were slouched at either end of Neal's sofa. Dirty plates and crumbled napkins littered the coffee table in front of the men. The bottle of gin was becoming depleted and several additional empty bottles of beer were lying at the floor by Peter's feet.

Comfortably sprawled in his easy chair, Neal faced his two friends.

"Hey, wait," shouted the senior agent. "I need to tell Elizabeth I'll be home really late!" He searched for his cell phone with fumbling fingers.

Neal stretched and yawned. "I already called her, buddy. She knows not to wait up for you."

"The story…. continue please," directed Mozzie.

"Okay….."