Lost in Italy

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  “It looks like it’s just a random checkpoint,” Trent added. The tightening of his fingers on the steering wheel and flexing of his forearm muscles belied the casual statement. “You keep quiet, I’ll handle this.”

  Unable to believe her luck, she glanced behind at the two men approaching, then whirled around and reached for the door handle. Trent’s hand encircled her wrist before she could open the door.

  “I said I’ll handle it,” he warned in a low, controlled tone.

  “Let me go or I’ll scream.”

  She pulled against his hold, but his grip tightened. “Don’t do this, for both our sakes.”

  An unexpected vulnerability in his voice made her pause. He removed the mirrored glasses and their gazes locked for a timeless moment. Her breath caught as she stared into the beautiful hazel eyes that made women’s hearts beat madly all around the world.

  Darn if they didn’t have the same affect on hers.

  The voices of the two officers reached her ears. She pulled again and this time Trent let go. She reached for the handle once more, but her hand wavered.

  No. She would not be sucked in like a besotted fool.

  “Halli. Please.”

  The husky, desperation-tinged entreaty hit its mark. Darn him.

  But, then again, he didn’t know her. He couldn’t know she found it impossible to say no when someone pleaded with such raw, naked honesty. Could it be he was telling the truth and she should trust him? Having been conned by her own parents growing up, she was never quite sure when to trust her instincts.

  Yet...those had been real bullets whizzing past her ear as he sped through the narrow streets of Lenno like a maniac. The three holes in his windshield proved that. Did they also prove that he probably had saved her life?

  She glanced back over her shoulder. The officer with the gun stood back a few feet, weapon not quite raised, but ready none-the-less. The one with the paddle stopped next to the driver’s side of the convertible, one hand on the side arm at his waist.

  “Documenti, per favore.”

  Halli met Trent’s gaze once more. The plea in his voice reflected in his expression. She gave a silent sigh and released the handle to sit back in her seat. A flash of relief darkened Trent’s eyes before he removed his cap and turned a smile to the officers.

  “Si, si, I got it right here.”

  The first officer’s eyes widened and he let loose an excited stream of Italian. The second relaxed his hold on his gun and stepped forward with a big smile. Halli caught Trent Tomlin and Shain West. Obviously, they were familiar with the movie star. She watched Trent pump each man’s hand with an aw-shucks grin. When the officer holding the big gun beamed at her, she thought about her similar reaction not that long ago. She cringed inside even as she smiled back at the man.

  Had she been this star-struck?

  She’d stuttered and blushed like a virgin teenager. Yeah, she’d been pathetic.

  Squaring her shoulders, she decided it didn’t matter. Now that she’d gotten to know him a little, she was over his celebrity status. Humiliation firmly set aside, she focused on the conversation between the three men.

  Trent Tomlin really was one hell of an actor. He spoke a combination of English and Italian, just enough, apparently, to bond nice and tight, so that when the paddle officer finally turned his attention to the bullet holes in the windshield, Trent laughed it off with a grimace.

  “There was a goof up—un spaglio—at the movie set. Domani, they will change the glass.”

  “Domani?”

  “Si, tomorrow, domani.”

  The other officer pointed to the rear of the car and asked another question. Trent nodded and spouted more words she didn’t understand. When the officer looked at her again, she kept smiling, not sure what else to do.

  One guy winked at Trent and they shared a laugh before he extended a small notebook and a pen. Halli got the feeling she should be insulted, but not a word had been spoken. Trent flipped to the back of the book and signed one piece of paper and the cardboard with a flourish. After a couple slaps on the shoulder and more handshakes, the officers returned to their vehicle.

  Halli glanced at Trent, expecting to see a triumphant grin for his success in fooling the men. The act certainly had been impressive. Instead, he leaned his head back, eyes closed, no smugness to be found. The misery etched in his features made her heart skip an empathetic beat.

  Before she could do more than blink, he blew out a deep breath, straightened and shifted the convertible into gear. She choked down any sympathy, grimly reminded by his hands fisted on the wheel and his now inscrutable expression that while he may be known around the world, he was still a stranger.

  One very capable of deception.

  He donned the hat and glasses once more, effectively shutting her out. The wind whipped her hair in her face as he accelerated and she raised a hand to brush strands from her eyes. Other than a brief glance to her side of the car, he kept his gaze trained straight ahead, his jaw tight, face blank.

  Unease rippled through her. The ground alongside the convertible sped by at a dizzying rate and she cursed the stupidity that had convinced her to trust her unreliable instincts.

  “So, what now?” she asked over the rush of wind.

  “Now we switch cars at my house, find a battery, and see if you caught a murder on that video, sweetheart.”

  Chapter 2

  “There! Ben, that’s it, that’s the street!”

  Rachel’s shout vibrated Ben’s eardrums. He cranked the steering wheel to the right and stepped on the gas. Halli was going to kill them.

  Please let her be okay.

  He recalled Rachel’s gasp when she’d asked Halli a direct question, then looked into the back seat to see why she didn’t answer. Crazy thoughts raced through his head when he’d checked the empty space, and Rachel’s horrified exclamation that he might have dragged her when he floored the little rental car to take advantage of a break in the fast-moving traffic didn’t help his guilt.

  Why hadn’t they realized there was never a third door slam? Since discovering her missing, the distinct sound of only two doors reverberated in his head on an endless loop.

  Worse than that, they hadn’t noticed her absence for almost ten minutes. But Halli never had been much of a talker, and she’d been sulking about her vetoed itinerary off and on since they’d landed. Her silence in the back seat hadn’t even registered between the encroaching jetlag and his concentration on the narrow, unfamiliar roads. Much as Rachel wanted her hair dryer converter, he’d wanted a shower and a nap and some food.

  Instead, he’d lost his baby sister!

  Now he felt like a complete jerk, not even worthy to be a big brother. He prayed they’d find her, safe and sound, right where they’d left her. And from now on, they’d follow her obsessive itinerary. If only they’d done that in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. Once again, all his fault.

  Brake lights flashed in front of him and he rode up on the vehicle’s back end. Swerving back and forth, he saw traffic was backed up and pounded an impatient fist on the wheel. “Come on.”

  “She’s gonna be there,” Rachel whispered. “She’ll be there. Pissed off, I’m sure, but okay. She has to be.”

  Ben glanced at his watch to see they’d left her behind almost thirty-five minutes ago. Halli was smart enough to wait where they’d left her. Besides, she didn’t have the guts to leave all on her own. Much as he loved his sister, reality was, she’d never been able to overcome her desperate need for complete order to combat the effects of their rootless childhood. He and Rachel had agreed to try and show her on this trip how freeing spontaneity could be, but not by leaving her behind.

  Around the next bend, Lake Como would suddenly appear, like the last time when its shimmering glory with the mountainous background took his breath away and he’d swerved out of traffic to park on the wide sidewalk. And it did, only this time his lungs seized not from the beauty of the lake,
but at the sight of a crowd of people, a half dozen police cars and an ambulance.

  With a body on a stretcher.

  “Oh my God, Ben.” Rachel’s hands flew to her mouth, muffling a sob.

  His heart pounded against his ribs. A swift jerk of the wheel landed them on the sidewalk again. He barely slammed the vehicle in park and ripped the keys from the ignition before both he and Rachel were out.

  Bam. Bam. Two doors. Not three. The sound mocked him as they shoved through curious onlookers. Metal teeth of the car keys bit into his palm.

  A uniformed officer caught Rachel’s arm, but Ben kept going and made it close enough to see the person on the stretcher had shorter, much darker hair than Halli. And it was a man. Relief eased the tightness in his chest.

  “It’s not her,” he called back to Rachel. He pushed forward again, scanning the crowd, concentrating on the spot where Halli had been filming those damn swans. Where was she?

  A hand clamped onto his arm. “Scusa signori, but for who are you searching?”

  Ben turned toward the heavy Italian accent and met a pair of dark eyes that matched the hard voice behind the question. Instinctively, he pulled against the officer’s hold. “My sister. We accidentally left her behind—”

  The man’s grip tightened. “You are American.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come with me.” The officer pulled Ben through the crowd, close to the spot where Halli last stood. A head taller than most, the officer lifted his chin and nodded to someone across the chaos.

  Ben yanked his arm free as he looked around. “Do you know where my sister is?”

  “What is her name?” the man asked as another officer escorted Rachel to Ben’s side.

  Rachel moved close and clung to his arm. “Where is she? Did you find her?”

  “Not yet.” Ben turned back to the two men watching them. “My sister is about five-foot-three. She’s got brown hair—”

  “It’s more auburn, with red highlights,” Rachel interjected. “And blue eyes. Please, you have to help us find her.” Tears began to stream down her face. A breeze from the lake stuck strands of her blonde hair to her wet cheeks. “We stopped to look at the lake, and she was filming some stupid swans, but we wanted to find our hotel. She might have been getting into the car when we left. We thought the ambulance was—” Another sob drowned out her words as Rachel buried her face against Ben’s shoulder.

  “Where is the camera?” asked the light-haired officer who’d come over with Rachel.

  Ben frowned at the strange question. “Probably still with her.”

  “At what hotel are you staying?” the first officer demanded.

  “The Grand Hotel in Menaggio,” Rachel answered. “But we haven’t checked in yet.”

  “Maybe she will go to the hotel,” the blond said, but more to the other officer than to them.

  “I don’t think so,” Ben interjected. Two pairs of eyes pinned him in place and he shifted restlessly. “We weren’t gone that long. It seems strange that she didn’t wait for us here.”

  “We have taxi cabs here in Italia, eh?” The dark haired officer’s tone indicated a less than favorable opinion of tourists.

  “You don’t know my sister. She’s not very confident by herself,” Ben explained. “I can’t imagine her trying to find her way around all alone.”

  “Do you know somebody here in Italia? You meet friends maybe? Maybe she call someone?”

  Rachel and Ben both shook their heads as Rachel said, “She doesn’t have a cell phone with her. We’re here on vacation. We just flew in this morning.”

  “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 s
hield 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.