Lost in Italy (5 page)

“This is the first time any of us have ever been here,” Ben added.

The officers exchanged a look and then the dark one took out a small pad of paper and a pen from his pocket and said to Ben, “What is the name of your sister.”

“Halli.  Well, Halliwell is on her passport.  Halliwell Sanders.”

The man made a few notes, exchanged another glance with the blond officer, then said, “You will come with us.”

Rachel nodded, but a twinge of unease settled in Ben’s gut.  The dark man’s demanding tone rubbed him the wrong way.  “I think it’s better if we wait for her here.  Wherever she may have gone, she’ll be back—”

“No,” the dark haired officer cut in.  “
Agente
Mariucci will escort you to your hotel and we will be in contact.”

“That car there, it is yours?”  The one named Mariucci pointed to the blue car Ben had parked haphazardly on the walkway beside the lake.

“Yes, but—”

“Give
Agente
Casale your keys.  We will make sure the vehicle is brought to you.”

“I’d rather wait here,” Ben repeated.

“We will find her,” Casale said.  “You will go with
Agente
Mariucci to the hotel.”

Ben’s frown deepened.  His fingers tightened on the keys in his fist.  “Why can’t you just follow us there?”

“Procedure,” Casale stated.

“Don’t we need to file a report at the police station or something?  In America—”

“You are not in America,
signori
.”  Casale cast a pointed glance at Ben’s hand and held out his own.  “
Per favore
.  Your cooperation will expedite the location of your sister.”

“Ben,” Rachel urged in a confused whisper.

Reluctantly, he placed the keys in the man’s palm.  He told himself that things were different in a foreign country, but couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t right.  Casale departed with the keys, and Mariucci directed them to an unmarked, black vehicle parked on the opposite side of the road.

Rachel slid into the back.  Ben hesitated.  He turned to scan the spot where he’d last seen Halli.  Mariucci stepped forward, his stocky build blocking Ben’s view and confining him inside the triangle of the car, the door, and his body.

“I assure you,
signori
, we will find your sister.”

Ben looked into the man’s eyes.  He sounded confident and determined.  Releasing a sigh and giving a tired, grateful nod, he slipped in beside Rachel, who hugged herself as she chewed on her thumbnail.  She hadn’t done that in years—not since dealing with their parents on a daily basis.

The door slammed, enclosing them in the dimness of black tinted windows.  Rachel grabbed his hand and he placed their clasped fingers on his thigh, covering both with his other hand as the engine turned over with a soft purr.

“Halli’s fine,” he murmured, hoping it wasn’t an empty assurance.

Rachel sniffed and attempted a smile.  “She’s probably waiting at the hotel, making copies of her itinerary for us.  You
know
she brought a copy.”

“Probably,” Ben agreed.  And if she was, he’d follow the blessed thing to the minute.

Mariucci appeared at the left front window and greeted the driver by the name of Nino.  As they spoke in low tones, it occurred to Ben that the man behind the wheel was not dressed in a police uniform.  The unease in his stomach did a slow roll and he sat up a little straighter.

Through a pair of black framed glasses, Nino’s gaze met his for a brief instant in the review mirror.  The glittering darkness of the man’s eyes sent a shiver of apprehension along Ben’s spine.  He cut his gaze to Mariucci, but the man’s emotionless smile failed to reassure.  His knee started a rapid bounce.

The front passenger side opened and another man slipped inside.  Shoulder-length dark hair, olive complexion, identical in appearance to the driver in that he wore no police uniform.  The hairs on Ben’s neck prickled, standing straight on end as the car started forward.  Gut instinct made him reach for the door handle.

The locks clunked shut.

Ben pulled free from Rachel’s grip and felt for the door lock while yanking on the unresponsive handle.  The second man turned around and poked his hand through the opening between the front seats.  Sunlight through the windshield glinted on the black casing of a gun.

Rachel’s shriek pierced his ears a second before she muffled the cry with her hand.  Ben shifted in front of her in a hopeless attempt to shield his sister as he met the cold gray gaze of the front seat passenger.

“Shut her up,” the man growled in accented English even though Rachel had already gone silent.

“What’s going on?” Ben asked.  Strain roughened his voice, but he had no control of the terror currently gripping his muscles and robbing him of coherent thought.

“Your sister Halliwell has something we want.  Until we find her, you are our collateral.”

Chapter 3

Trent keyed in his security code and drove into his small estate after the gates swung open.  They closed behind them, as silent as the rigid woman in the opposite seat.  She hadn’t spoken since the moment he’d uttered the word
murder
.  Hadn’t asked a single question, hadn’t moved a single muscle.  He suspected she was in shock, despite her insistence that she hadn’t seen anything.

It was better this way though.  Bold as his statement had been, he wasn’t prepared to answer any questions.  Not now that the immediate threat was gone and the reality of Lorenzo Roselli’s murder had set in.

Whether Halli caught the crime with her video camera or not, he knew the retired cop was dead.  The recording wire his friend had been wearing, the recording
he’d
been listening to and slipped into his pocket, had caught every word up to that fatal moment of Lorenzo’s last gasping breath and beyond.

And yet it still wasn’t enough.  None of it would convict the scumbags on behalf of his brother or his friend Lorenzo.  There’d been no names spoken other than the ones Lorenzo himself whispered toward the mic.  Not one slip-up by the men at the villa to corroborate Lorenzo’s valuable information about the smugglers.

Trent parked in the garage, his hands tight on the wheel as the overhead door reversed direction until it rested against the concrete floor.  Would he ever be able to enter this house again without needing a moment to prepare?  He’d give anything to go back in time six months ago and refuse his brother’s request to use the villa while filming a new documentary about endangered animals sold on the black market.

If he’d said no, without a free place to stay, Sean wouldn’t have been able to afford the trip to Italy.  Their father had warned him Sean was tackling a dangerous subject, but his younger brother had wanted to make a difference.  He
needed
to make a difference to get himself out of his spiraling depression, and had convinced Trent that if he nailed the documentary, he could save lives.

If only he could’ve saved his own.

The vision of their father’s grief ravaged face at the funeral swam before him, but Trent shoved aside the memory and turned toward Halli.  He couldn’t help Sean anymore, but maybe he could make up for it by keeping this woman safe now.  Responsibility weighed on his shoulders, forcing him to take a deep, silent breath before slipping back into character.

Unfortunately, character didn’t quell the sudden tremor in the hand he reached across the seats toward her shoulder.  “Come on inside, sugar.  We both could use a drink.”

She recoiled against the door.  Trent hesitated, unsure how to handle her reaction.  Women never pulled away from his touch.  Surely, she understood by now that he wouldn’t hurt her?

He opened his mouth to reassure her at the exact moment her chin lifted and her gaze locked with his.  The blue of her eyes were lit with a fire the likes he’d never seen before.

“My
name
is Halli.”

Those eyes were really quite amazing, even in the dimness of the garage.  Trent blinked and focused on her words.

“Right, you did mention that. 
Halli
, please come inside and I’ll fix us that drink.”

Her eyes narrowed to a piercing glare.  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

One corner of his mouth crooked up.  “Hmm.  And yet here you sit, in my car, in my garage.  If you think about it, the house isn’t that much farther.”

She immediately threw off her seatbelt and shoved open her door.  Trent followed suit, thankful she’d decided to see reason so quickly.  A swift shot, or three, of whiskey should steady his unwelcome resurgence of nerves.

But Halli didn’t head for the door in front of them.  She bolted for the one leading out to the driveway.  Trent caught up as she yanked on the doorknob.  She managed three inches of sunlight before his palm above her head slammed the door shut.  His other hand gripped the doorframe, imprisoning her between his body and the door.  “Where th—”

She threw her head back and her skull connected with his chin.  Pain shot into his jaw, accompanied by her low grunt.

“Sonofa—”

A sharp elbow to his ribs on the left side forced the air from his lungs and sent him back a half step.  She pushed against him with her body, reaching for the door handle again.

“Dammit, stop!” Trent closed his arms around her, banding them tight to avoid any more vicious jabs.

She tossed her head and kicked at his shins.  Pinning her head with his cheek against hers, he growled in her ear, lifted her off the ground, and used his weight to press her against the door.  “
Stop
.”

Their labored breathing mingled in the sudden silence.  Trent became aware of his heart pounding in his chest about the same time her camouflaged curves registered.  The frumpy, baggy clothes concealed a slim body that was a lot stronger than he ever would’ve guessed.  Right now, with her firm, rounded derriere pressed intimately against his front, a twinge of physical response took him by surprise.

Tamping down on the inappropriate reaction, he relaxed his hold the slightest bit while shifting his hips.  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her breath caught on a half-laugh, half-sob.  Guilt mushroomed, magnified by his forceful restraint.  He sought to reassure her the only way he knew how.  “Trust me, sweetheart, you’re safe with me.”

This time, she outright laughed, minus any humor.

“Trust
you
.  With your kidnapping, and car chase, and talk of
murder
.”

“I understand you’re scared.”  He took a deep breath and admitted, “So am I.”

She gave an unattractive snort.  “Shain West isn’t scared of anything.”

A flash of annoyance overrode his guilt.  “Shain’s just a character and you know it.”

“Aw, sorry,
sweetie
.”

Her pointed sarcasm hit home and he
really
wanted a drink now.  “Can I let you go?”

“Dumb question.”

Another growl rumbled from his throat.  “If I let you go, are you going to try to run again?”

“Smarter question.”

He liked her better when she was silent.  She hadn’t looked like she’d be this much trouble on the sidewalk next to the lake.  His clenched teeth made his tender jaw ache worse and a headache began to throb at his temples.

“I’m not kidding around here.  I’ve got a lot of shit to figure out and I don’t have time to keep running after you.”

Another humorless laugh.  “Then don’t.”

Trent abruptly dropped her on her feet, grasped her shoulders and spun her around.  With her back pressed to the door, he leaned in until their noses almost touched.

“You think I’m enjoying this?  There’s a hell of a lot better things I could be doing right now than keeping your ungrateful ass safe.”

She shrank into herself. Her audible swallow reached his ears.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.  I just want to find my brother and sister and go home.”

The waiver in her small voice hit Trent smack dab in the chest with a force greater than her head butt on his chin.  His anger vanished on a sigh.  “I know,” he said softly, eternally sorry this innocent bystander had been dragged into his nightmare.  “And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that happens.”

She stared past his shoulder, blue eyes alight with a shimmer of tears.  “I still don’t trust you.”

He lifted her chin with a crooked knuckle and offered a smile that’d never failed him before.  “Hey, remember back in the car with the
Carabinieri
?  You trusted me then.”

She pulled away with a jerk.  With her chin raised, her blue gaze met his and held.  “Yeah, stupid, gullible me.”

Trent
frowned.  “What?”

“They were nice guys. 
They
seemed trustworthy.  You could’ve told them what happened and I’d be at my hotel with my family by now.”