Chapter 4

The little blue van was waved through the ornate iron gates with no more than a cursory nod of acknowledgement from the bored looking security guard, and then drove down the long meandering driveway to the house itself.

The Casati residence was a palatial two-story Mediterranean style mansion, spread across several acres of beautifully landscaped grounds, with breathtaking views of the ocean. From what Frankie had told him, the layout of the main house was pretty much as it had been when Darien had been a regular visitor there all those years back. There had been some renovation in that time and a pool house had been added, but apart from that everything was more or less the same. And, more importantly, Dominic's study was still on the ground floor to the rear of the property.

The place seemed deserted, in fact, the only person Darien had encountered in all the time he'd been standing by the pool, idling skimming the long net back and forth across the rippling water, had been an elderly Hispanic gardener and the only noise came from the gentle trickle of water from the fountain at the edge of the pool.

His current vantage point afforded him an unobstructed view across the paved terrace, leading to the double glass doors and directly into Dominic Casati's study. Though the objective of any B&E job was to get in and out fast, the increased risk of trying to pull something like this off during the daylight hours made Darien err on the side of caution and bide his time before making his move. The last thing he needed was to bring unwanted attention from a member of the Casati household - and the thought of maybe even running into big bad Dom himself sent a nervous tremor down Darien's spine.

Of course, he could have avoided all of this subterfuge completely if he'd chosen to use the Quicksilver. Then it would just have been a case of getting his invisible self in and out of the house without the need of a disguise, but that would have been too easy. Darien's pride and that small part of him that still hankered after his old life as a thief, balked at the idea of doing this any way but the good old-fashioned B&E way. Besides, not using the QS alleviated a little of the guilt he felt for doing this at all, knowing how disappointed Bobby and Claire would be if they knew, even if his reasons for doing it were more than justified as far as he was concerned. As for the Fat Man finding out, and what he would do to Darien if he did find out…well, that one just didn't bear dwelling on for any great length of time.

Finally deciding it was now or never, he laid the net on the ground and took a moment to do another scan of the immediate area wanting to be sure he didn't have an unwelcome audience. Satisfied, he made his way across the paved terrace towards the house and was reaching into the back pocket of his shorts for the small leather case containing his lock picks, when a female voice called out from somewhere behind him…close.

"Where's Brad?"

He spun on his heels almost stumbling, and found himself staring at an absolute knockout; all bleached blond hair, long tanned body, and surgically enhanced breasts straining to break free from the little triangles of crimson material laughably called a bikini. A flowered sarong with some of the same colors as the top was wrapped around her slender hips.

"Uh, beg pardon?" Darien's heart rate was struggling to recover from the sudden shock of having someone sneak up behind him like that.

Blondie smiled at him brightly from under the layers of perfectly teased hair, motioning towards the pool. "Brad? Our regular pool guy?"

The penny dropped. "Oh, uh, yeah. Brad's come down with stomach flu or somethin'….nasty." Darien pulled a face for effect.

"Well, who's complaining. You're kinda cute," Blondie complimented, and Darien realized with a shock that she was checking him out, suddenly very conscious of the tight fitting red tee-shirt and the blue shorts he'd had to don as his 'uniform'.

The young woman gracefully lowered herself onto one of the sun loungers scattered poolside, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the flimsy material of her sarong had fallen back to reveal a long shapely leg. Darien gulped and ran a hand across his brow to clear the beads of sweat.

"He's really an actor you know?"

"Uh, who?"

"Brad, silly," she giggled, wrinkling her delicate little nose. "He's always saying that this is just temporary for him until he gets that big break. What about you?" She inclined her head, her eyes running over him again appreciatively. "Actor…model?"

"Nah. I'm a secret agent," he advised conversationally. "Just out to make some extra cash between top secret assignments, that kinda stuff."

Blondie giggled again. "So, what do we call you?"

Yeah, now that's a good question.

"Uh, Donald," he managed to stutter out the first name that leapt into his head..

"Well I'm Summer," she announced cheerfully, dipping her toes into the warm waters of the pool. "My fiancé Dominic owns this place."

Oh, that's just great.

"Well it's lovely." Darien was rooted to the spot halfway between the pool and the house, expecting Dom to emerge any minute now to discover his girlfriend hitting on the vaguely familiar looking pool guy. "Is he…uh…around?"

Much to his relief Summer shook her head. "He's had to go out on some business or other. But he'll be back any time to pick me up, cause we're supposed to be meeting friends for lunch." She glanced at her gold wristwatch. "Cripes, I need to get dressed. Dominic doesn't like to be kept waiting…he's not very patient."

"Yeah, I bet."

Summer got to her feet in one elegant movement, hands running down over her body to smooth the non-existent creases from the material covering her sensational lower half. "Well it was nice meeting you, Donald. Will I be seeing you again?"

" I doubt it Summer. Ole Brad'll be back on the job before you can say 'Rubber Ducky', and I'll probably be off saving the world or something," he advised with what he hoped was just the right amount of sincerity. "Hey, but it's been a real pleasure."

She eyed him with amusement…and something else…for a long moment. "Well, if the secret agent thing doesn't work out, maybe I could put a call into your boss and get you permanently assigned to us, huh?"

All Darien could think to do was nod. "Wouldn't that be nice!"

"Sure would," she exclaimed, throwing him another dazzling smile and blowing him a kiss as she turned on her heels. "Catch ya later, cutie."

Darien gave Summer a little half wave as she disappeared around the side of the house, and then released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Crap and double crap.

At least now he knew that Dominic was off the premises though due back any time according the Summer, so he had to get moving. He'd left a very nervous Frankie back at the motel, with a promise that he'd call the minute he was clear. By now she'd probably be climbing the walls with worry.

Knowing that he couldn't afford to waste any more time, Darien made straight for the door leading to Dominic's study. The standard piece of crap lock yielded with the minimum amount of coercion, and in just under a minute he had the door open and was inside the house…finally.

It never ceased to amaze that the rich folk of this world would spend literally millions on their state-of-the-art security systems, which they'd then switch off during daytime when they assumed all good burglars were taking a break, leaving their valuables at the mercy of people…well, like him actually.

He did a cursory check of the study before heading straight for the large modern light wood desk, which dominated the room. The silver picture frame was exactly where Frankie had said it would be and Darien wasted no time in removing the back of the frame, and there in between a piece of light card and the photograph of Dominic Casati with his mother, was the metallic disk Pocketing his prize, he carefully replaced the photograph and returned the frame to its place on the desk.

Even though common sense told him to go while the going was still good, Darien couldn't resist having a little poke around the study, just for the sheer hell of it. Running his hands over the delicate artwork and wondering which of the contemporary paintings concealed the wall safe. Then he spotted the ornately carved wooden box on the desk, which he suspected contained some of the expensive Cuban cigars that Dominic had always favored. Allowing curiosity to get the better of him, he picked up the box, releasing the little gold catch and opened the lid to take a peak inside, savoring the distinctive aroma. And that's exactly when a sudden intense pain lanced through his head, pitching him across the desk, the cigar box flying out of his hands to land on the floor with a thud as most of its prized contents spilled out.

Darien had no choice but to stay right where he was until the pain had dulled to merely an aching throb, and the wave of nausea that had come in its wake subsided. Breathing heavily he managed to push himself upright and on shaking legs reached down to scoop the cigars haphazardly back into their container, which he then placed back on the desk. Wiping the back of his hand over his face to clear the cold sweat that had suddenly formed, he gave the room one final check and when he was as satisfied as he could be that everything was in place, left the same way he'd entered.

TBC