OP-DEC: Operation Deceit

Chapter 2

        THE SILHOUETTES OF THE TREES made it difficult to see the houses of Warren Street from the road. Their lights twinkled between the branches and leaves, glistened on the stone walks and wet pavement and gave only a hint at their true grandeur. As the limousine coasted by, Claire took it in with a yearning for home she never thought she would have. She licked her lips and she waited for the house to come into view. She worried this visit would turn into the nightmares she'd had since her aunt told her she would go. Her father didn't call to be sure she would attend. He didn't even call to congratulate her. He was either too busy or too used to getting his way that making certain mattered little to him.

        "Be there in just a minute, Miss," the driver said. He must have noticed her anxiety.

        Claire's eyes went to the back of the man's head. She didn't recognize him. Father changed drivers too often to recall any. The man blurted some weak excuse that her father was stuck at work and couldn't be there himself. This wasn't unusual. He came to get her himself less and less every year. Maybe he thought her too grown and capable. It still would have been a nice gesture.

        "Hey—can you do me a favor?" Claire asked, seeing the man peer at her in the rearview. "Drop me at the gate. I'd like to walk up."

        "In them heels?" he said in a Boston lilt.

        "I haven't seen it since Christmas. Heck, I haven't seen it in spring since I was a kid," Claire said, sitting back in the seat. She picked at the fingers of her gloves, but still managed to smile.

        "Yer the boss, Miss Healey," the man said.

        The limousine coasted along the street. Claire checked her carefully arranged hair to make sure it was still in place. She put the compact away satisfied and contemplated her homecoming as the vehicle pulled up to the gate barring them from the sprawling set-up. Claire looked over the lawn and the house beyond. Several
fancy cars lined the circular drive. The limo door opened with a pop and the cool spring air rushed inside the warm coach. Claire accepted the driver's hand. The gate groaned open, capturing her attention.

        "Take this," he said, opening and handing her an umbrella. "I'll get it from ya later. Ya dad'll kill me if 'e finds out I let ya walk in the rain."

        Claire smiled at him, half paying attention to what he said. She took the umbrella with thanks. She doubted if her father would deign to care.

        "Watch them stones. I'll be out for a ride if ya twist ya ankle," the man added, nervously.

        "Say," Claire said, concerned. She heard more than he said. "Are things all that bad here?"

        The man adjusted his chauffer cap.

        "Na-no, miss—not at awl. It's a great gig," he said and forced a smile to be sure she believed him. "I jus' doan wanna lose is awl. Just staht'd."

        Claire eyed him with a frown. Her dad was a hard man, but seeing another grown man afraid of him was too much. She almost blushed with the shame of it.

        "Well—thank you," Claire said, not knowing what else to say. "I promise not to breathe a word of this walk to anyone. Our secret."

        The man nodded, unconvinced.

        Claire smiled sheepishly at the driver. She couldn't do anything more than keep her word. She turned on her heel and started up the cobblestone drive. The walk became one of the longest she ever took, not outranking the walk to the door of her school on the first day. The thought made her smile and her spirit eased in spite of the
shadow of the great house.