Lost in Italy (8 page)

“Alrigo—
aspetta
.”

“
Ma lei aveva la video camera
?”

The intense, urgent tone of the hushed question directly outside the door roused Halli from a semi-dream state.  She cracked open one eye to squint toward the door without raising her head.

“No, solo una copia del suo passaporto.”

“Dove cozzo e? Voglio quelle video camera!”

Wide awake now, her heart beating a rapid tempo against her ribs, Halli fought the urge to sit up straight.  The words that caught her attention may have been pronounced as
“
vee-day-oh kah-mare-ah”
, but even she could figure out that translation.  Equally alarming, the speaker sounded pretty upset.

Had she mentioned her camera?  She sifted through her foggy memory of the story she gave the officers when she’d first arrived at the station.  No, she’d kept it simple; her brother and sister drove off without her, and she took the wrong bus when trying to locate the hotel and got herself completely lost.

Outside the office, the men exchanged more words, but she couldn’t understand anything other than the anger in the one man’s voice.  And even that she didn’t understand.

Yes you do
.

No.  She forced back rising alarm.  Trent’s dire warnings couldn’t be true.  She’d done the right thing by coming to the police.  They would help her.

Head still down, she stared toward the door through strands of her hair.  Only one man’s black leather clad shoulder was visible.  She willed the men to move, desperate to see who they were, yet hardly able to breathe for the vice clamping her chest.  The one with the calmer voice said something, repeated the name
Alrigo
, and she saw a hand settle on the leather jacket.

That man gave a swift jerk and stepped back out of reach, giving Halli a split-second glimpse of his face.

Terror seized her throat.  That jaw.  The harsh line of his mouth—it was the man from the darkened window of the villa.  A tidal wave of panic dragged her into the undertow.

Oh my God, he really is after me!  But how did he find me
here
?

The answer hit with sickening certainty at the exact moment Officer Greco stepped back into the room.  No wonder it’d taken so long to process the ‘paperwork’.

“Ms. Sanders, if you would come with us,
per favore
.”

No. 
She couldn’t.  This woman seemed so nice, yet had no qualms about turning her over to a killer.

Halli clutched her arms across her stomach and moaned.  “I don’t feel so good, can I use the restroom?  Please.”

The officer’s eyes flooded with concern and she hurried over to help Halli to her feet.  “
Si
.  I will take you.”

Just outside the door, a sharp command halted Officer Greco and froze Halli in her tracks.  The woman turned and spoke in rapid Italian.  Halli didn’t dare look.  The man in the leather jacket would know she knew who he was.  Heavy footsteps sounded behind her.

She covered her mouth and doubled over with a groan.  “I’m going to be sick.”

Officer Greco urged her forward, a string of irritated-sounding Italian words flowing over her shoulder.  Halli held her breath, expecting a bullet in her back at any moment.  By the time they reached the restroom, she was dizzy and truly nauseous.

The whole situation was insane!  Thinking some guy would shoot her in the middle of a police station.

Inside the bathroom, she rushed into a stall and threw up the little bit of liquid she’d drank.  Dry heaves came next; she hadn’t eaten since a light breakfast on the plane hours ago.  She flushed and sat back, her stomach still rolling.  A hand reached around her, offering a wet paper towel.  Halli accepted it gratefully, swiping it across her clammy forehead and face before wiping her mouth.

“Can I get you a drink?” Officer Greco asked.

“Please,” Halli whispered with a nod.

She had to get out.  Were they the only people in here?  She leaned against the toilet bowl and glanced under the walls on either side to find the other stalls empty.  Over her shoulder, she said, “A soda, please.  White.  It’ll help settle my stomach.”

The officer looked hesitant.  Halli turned back to the toilet with dread.  This one she was going to have to fake.  After she gagged and wiped her face with the paper towel again, she hung her head, slumped her shoulders, and begged, “Please.  Sprite or 7-Up.”

“
Si
.  I will see what I can find.”

Halli didn’t wait for the door to close all the way before pushing to her feet.  She tossed the paper towel in the direction of the garbage and went straight to the sink.

Where were the faucet handles?  She waved her hands, looking for the motion activated sensor.  Nothing.  A quick search located two pedals on the floor, one black, one red.  Desperate, she stepped on the red.  Water spit out of the faucet, only it was hot.  She quickly scrubbed her hands, then pressed on the black pedal, hoping for cold.  One chilled handful rinsed her mouth, and two more she splashed on her face.

Groping for a dry towel, she stared at her pale reflection with disbelief.  How had her carefully planned life spun so out of control in just a few hours?  Not to mention, away from Trent, the whole nightmare was supposed to go away.  Instead, it’d gotten worse.

Her mind raced.  Working in television, living vicariously through movies, her mind immediately went to the worst case scenario.  But maybe they weren’t all in on whatever was going on.  Surely Officer Greco wouldn’t have left her alone if she knew what Halli had filmed?  She waivered in indecision.  Could she risk trusting her?  Would the woman help?  Would she believe the real story after Halli’s initial lie?

The day fast-forwarded in Halli’s mind and her shoulders slumped.  Who was she kidding?  No one would believe what had all happened to her today.  Heck, there wasn’t even a single incidence by itself that stood a ghost of a chance of being plausible, let alone the whole of it together.

What she needed right now was a new plan.  What did she need to focus on after she got out of here?  One step beyond escape was crucial to give her a goal to work toward.

The embassy.  No, the consulate.  Or the hotel? 
Ben and Rachel might assume she’d go there, but she quickly decided the consulate was closer and probably safer than finding her way along the lakeshore by herself.  Plus, though Trent’s wallet appeared well-stocked, she had no idea how far the money would take her.  A taxi to Milan was her best plan.

At the door, she took a deep breath, trying to work up the courage for her second bathroom escape in two hours. The thought startled a hysterical laugh.  She bit it back before her nerves escalated the reaction out of control.

Focus on the consulate
.

Her next breath shook only half as much with a goal set in place.  She eased the door open, then quickly stepped back when a visual sweep of the hall revealed a door opening at the end of the corridor.  A split-second glimpse of daylight and a green sign imprinted on her mind before the bathroom door shut with a soft hydraulic sigh.  That green sign contained a white stick figure running toward a doorway with the word
USCITA
underneath—
USCITA
must mean exit.

Voices reached a crescendo in the hall and then waned.  Flattened against the wall, between the door and the paper towel dispenser, Halli prayed Officer Greco didn’t locate a white soda anytime soon.

Another quick scan revealed the hall empty.  Halli took a second to get her bearings.  Left was back to the offices where she’d been held.  No hope of escape there.  To the right beckoned the exit.  Only the hall didn’t end at the exit, but T’d in each direction, and between her and freedom stood two doors on either side, the last ones offices with nameplates and windows. 

Didn’t matter, she had to move.  With her first step, the theme music from Jaws began to play in her head.  Each step forward increased the tempo, just like in the movie.  God, she was losing it!

She made it past the first door.  Her sigh of relief was cut short, however, when the second door, not ten feet in front of her swung open, and a short, fat bald man stepped out.  The air seized in her lungs.

The man turned to waddle toward the exit sign, reading a document in his hands.  Halli watched in amazement as he turned the corner without even glancing in her direction.

Could it be her luck was changing?

A soft noise registered directly behind her just as fingers fisted in her shirt and yanked her backward into a small room.  Her instinctive scream was curtailed by a large hand over her mouth.  The door clicked shut and a solid wall of muscle forced the air from her lungs.  A wall that smelled like leather.

Alrigo
.

The distinct, heavy scent assaulted her senses, turning her queasy stomach.  Frantic clawing to remove her living steel gag proved futile.  Tears stung her eyes when they confirmed the arm holding her was indeed encased in leather.  She screamed again, but the killer’s hand muffled it to a moan.

“Shut up, sweetheart, or you’ll bring the whole damn building running.”

Halli went completely still. 
Trent?

Relief weakened her knees and wiped all logical thought from her mind.  She’d never been so glad to hear a familiar voice in her life.  She tried to turn and face him in the dim light, but his hold prevented any movement.

“I told you not to go to the police.”

Halli stiffened at the unexpected menace in his low growl and his arms banded tighter.  She tried to speak, but his venomous whispers overrode her muffled attempt.

“You’ve screwed up everything, dammit.  Everything I’ve worked on for the past two months, Lorenzo’s death, saving your ass—all of it for nothing because
you
had to go to the damn police.”

Lorenzo?
  Was that the friend he’d spoken of earlier?

“Do you know who showed up about fifteen minutes ago, Halli?” Trent snarled in her ear.  “While you’re wandering around the police station like some lost little tourist?”

She tried to nod her head, but he spun her around so they were face to face.  His hand remained glued over her mouth as he pinned her against the door.  Beneath the shadow of his blue baseball cap,
hazel
eyes burned into hers with an anger that scared her almost as much as the man out in the station.

“Your buddy from the villa.  The guy who shot up my car when he tried to
kill you
.  And what thanks do I get?  You turn around and walk straight into his hands.  He’s waiting out there right now to finish what he started this morning.”

Halli couldn’t suppress a terrified shiver in the face of Trent’s blunt, furious words.  A dark, dangerous aura cloaked them in the confined space as she endured his glower.  So why, then, was she also completely aware of every inch of his hard, angry body vibrating against hers?

Something fluttered in the pit of her stomach, something more than fear.  She darted her gaze around, desperate to focus on something other than him.  They appeared to be in some sort of storage closet, full of miscellaneous items and janitorial supplies.

“I’m taking you out of here right now,” Trent stated, compelling her attention back to him.  “Despite the pain-in-the-ass you’ve been, I refuse to let them kill you like they did my brother and Lorenzo.  I can’t live with another death on my hands, you hear me?”

Halli frowned in confusion at the gruff declaration.  His brother committed suicide.  It’d been all over the news.  Here, in Italy, in Trent’s villa, almost three months ago.

“Once we’re out of here,” Trent continued, “I’ll take you to Milan, to the Consulate General.  You’ll be better off there.  Safer.  Then
they
can deal with the consequences of what you’ve done and help you find your family.”

Tears threatened, even though he’d just told her he’d take her exactly where she wanted to go.  She really was losing it, because though she knew now she’d been wrong to come here, knew she should’ve listened to him, his recriminations piled on the guilt.

Until indignation reared up and reminded her, what the hell had he expected her to do?  Sit in his house like a victim?

“Deal?” he demanded.

She nodded.

“I’m going to move my hand.  Don’t.  Scream.”

She shook her head, assuring him she’d be quiet.

His gaze narrowed, holding hers for one last quiet warning.  “Understand this, if you don’t trust me to get us out of here, if you choose not to believe me right now, then we’re both as good as dead.”

Trent watched Halli jerk her head in another nod and finally, slowly, removed his hand.  He was still pissed as hell, worried as to how they’d even get out of the building, and not the least bit sorry for the fear he’d stirred up in her eyes.

He stepped back, paused briefly at the sight of her slim figure in the tight
Wet & Wild
T-shirt, then spun to survey the contents of the closet.  It was time to pull off the act of a lifetime.  If he didn’t, it might be his last.