Lost in Italy

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  He froze in place, his mouth dry.

  Where the hell is Halli?

  He caught himself from calling out her name. He’d come in quiet enough, if anyone was still in the house he might be able to take them by surprise. With the living room obviously empty, he flattened himself against the wall to snatch a glance up the stairs. Moving silently on the plush carpet, he made his way up toward the first bedroom.

  The room Sean had used.

  He hadn’t been inside since the day after his brother’s funeral, not even to check the quality of the remodeling he’d hired a local company to do. Bracing himself for the living nightmare that plagued his dreams, he twisted the handle and swung open the door.

  Relief nearly buckled his knees when he saw the room empty. A part of him had half expected to see Halli’s lifeless body where Sean’s had been three months ago.

  Finding her became imperative. He’d left her alone and defenseless after she begged him not to. If something happened to her while he was gone—in his house—how could he not be responsible?

  The three other guest rooms were empty, including the one she’d used earlier, which left his at the end of the hall. Heart hammering against his ribs, Trent threw open the door.

  Halli lay on the bed, her small body curled around a pillow. Was she dead? Injured? He crossed the room in record time, forgetting to even check if she was alone. God, please let her be okay.

  “Halli?”

  Muttered, unintelligible words faded as she rolled onto her back. Sleeping. Thank God! His gaze swept over her, searching for any signs of injury and finding none. He sank onto the edge of the bed; his weight on the mattress shifted her body toward him.

  Halli jerked awake, eyes wide with alarm.

  As she scrambled backward against the headboard, pillow clutched in her arms, he held out a hand. “It’s okay. It’s me, Trent.”

  The sound of crinkling, tearing paper caught his attention even as he noted the fear in her eyes subside. A downward glance made him freeze. In the next second, a white-hot spear of anger shot through him.

  “What the hell—?” He reached out and snatched his notebook out from under her thigh. A page ripped out, stark white against his black bedspread. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Ah…um…”

  Her wide eyes were now full of guilt. She strangled the pillow against her stomach and realization brought a fresh wave of anger. Trent looked at his desk. Newspaper articles were strewn across the smooth walnut surface and the third drawer hung open.

  “This was you?” He stood and swept an arm toward the desk, then the door. “And out there, too?”

  “I thought you might be hiding something.”

  He swung around at her defensive tone. “So you tore my house apart?”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  She released the pillow and set it aside, only to shrink back when he leaned over the bed, the torn page crumpled in his fist. “It looks like I was robbed.”

  “Geez, relax, I’ll straighten everything up.”

  She swung her feet around to climb off the bed on the opposite side. When she started for the door, Trent took two steps and caught her arm, swinging her around to face him. His fingers tightened with another mental flash of his brother’s lifeless body on the bed.

  “Christ, Halli, I thought they’d found you! I thought I was going to find you dead in here.”

  She stared up at him, stiff as a board, and yet sympathy swam in those big blue eyes. Damn it, that sounded like he actually cared. He bit back a growl. Well, so what if he did, it didn’t mean anything. She was another human being, after all. It made sense his character would care that much, at least.

  “Where do you get off going through my things?” he demanded.

  She shook off his hand and rubbed her arm before pointing her stuck-up little nose in the air. “I asked you a question before you swiped my camera and left. A damn important one, too. Maybe next time you’ll answer instead of blowing me off.”

  “I told you I wasn’t involved. Besides which, who says I owe you any explanations?”

  “You kidnapped me!”

  He turned to face the desk, eyeing the balled page in his hand. Her expression from a moment ago flashed in his mind. Sympathy...?

  His journal. Sean. His gut tightened at the thought of her reading his private words and he deliberately made his next words condescending. “We’re not really having this discussion again, are we?”

  “Oh, goodness, no. Wouldn’t want to bore the great Trent Tomlin.”

  A forward jerk of his knee slammed the third drawer closed with a thud. “Your sarcasm is not appreciated.”

  “Neither is yours.”

  “I was serious.”

  “So was I.”

  Trent slapped the notebook on his desk and turned to lean back against the polished wood. He ignored the article that floated to the ground and focused on Halli, his hands braced on either side of him, fingers gripping the edge of the desk. “Look, I’m tired and I’m hungry, so can we cut the childish bullshit and be done with this for tonight?”

  Red spots appeared on her cheeks as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Aw, poor baby.”

  “Saving your ass—twice, I might add—isn’t as easy as I make it look, so go make yourself useful and whip me up something to eat like I asked earlier.”

  Her eyebrows shot up and her entire face flared crimson. “Screw you,” she spat as she spun toward the door.

  “Been happenin’ all day, sweetheart,” he drawled after her.

  The door slammed so hard a couple of his brother’s framed photographs bounced against the wall. Trent glared under his arm at the leather-bound notebook on the desk. How much had she read? All of it he’d bet. Damn her. She had no right reading his personal thoughts. How’d she like it if he crawled inside her head and exposed her deepest regret?

  His hand fisted tighter, his knuckles as white as the paper crushed between his fingers. When the wave of emotion abated and he’d reconnected with his self-assigned character, he smoothed out the page against his thigh, then picked up the book and thumbed the pages until he found where it belonged.

  She now had her answer as to his involvement.

  And the added danger that went along with that knowledge.

  Chapter 9

  Childish bullshit?

  Make yourself useful?

  Halli fumed as she straightened up the mess she’d made in the living room. What a jackass.

  Slamming the cabinet door hard enough to rattle the beveled-edge glass on the top doors gave her no satisfaction. She’d provided him with the video, hadn’t she? The all-important recording he was so desperate to see. That was useful. How in the world could the arrogant jerk she’d just dealt with be the same man whose emotional, written words touched her heart and brought tears to her eyes?

  As if her thoughts conjured him, Trent strode into the room. He carried a cardboard box in his arms and she stopped straightening the chair cushion to glare at him, noting his jaw looked to be clenched just as tight as hers. So what. Let him be angry. Let him be hungry. He couldn’t pay me to follow his condescending order to—

  He turned his back as he dropped the box onto the couch, completely ignoring her. Halli wondered what he was doing, until he bent to rummage in the box. Then she found herself checking out his butt.

  What was wrong with her? She didn’t even like the man!

  Well, to be fair, she didn’t object to certain aspects of him, and his butt was certainly one of those. But movie-star looks and an amazing body didn’t make up for his overall…jerkiness. Was that a word? Who cares, she decided, still staring at his defined, denim-clad backside. If the pants fit…

  It dawned on her when he set aside some lighting gear on the couch that the box he’d brought out contained camera equipment. Most likely from the room his brother had used. She thought of the tortured emotion revealed in Trent’s journal entries and the tense set of his shoulders took on a
whole new meaning. Her anger melted away.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in a neutral tone.

  He rummaged through the box with increasing determination. “I’m going to make a copy of your video. I thought for sure Sean’s stuff would have what I need.” Muttered swear words indicated he’d thought wrong.

  She wasn’t so sure she wanted the answer to her next question, but asked anyway. “Did you watch it yet?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did it…um…have what you wanted?”

  “What I wanted? No. What I need to help put these guys away? Yes.”

  Meaning she had filmed a murder. Halli swallowed hard and moved closer to the couch. Closer to him. The entire day had had a surreal feeling about it—still did, in fact—but knowing he’d watched the murder on her film triggered an instinctive need for security in the form of human contact.

  Trent abruptly switched gears and began piling cameras back into the box. When the sound of breaking glass accompanied the next piece of equipment, she reached forward to lay her hand on his arm.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The solid reassurance of his warm skin beneath her fingertips ignited a longing to have his strong arms wrap around her and promise everything would be okay.

  He stilled, his gaze dropping to her hand. Her heart beat faster as she imagined him turning those intense hazel eyes her way.

  His forearm muscles tightened and bunched just before he jerked away. “I don’t need or want your sympathy, sweetheart.”

  The rejection stung, along with the meaningless endearment. But it was just what she needed to wipe away the strange desire to lean on his strength and comfort him.

  To combat a rising, cold loneliness, she clenched her fists at her sides and said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I’m still hungry,” he snapped.

  As if she would serve him. “Then how about I copy the video while you go eat.”

  He tossed the last camera into the box and gave her a skeptical look.

  “Back in Wisconsin, I’m a television producer for PBS. I think I can figure it out.”

  His glance touched on the box in front of him, shifted toward a mirror on the wall across from the couch, and returned to her. “I assume you know where everything is from your private whirlwind tour earlier?”

  “Yep.” She refused to feel guilty.

  “Great. Have at it.” He strode toward the kitchen, only to take an abrupt detour to the stairs. Over his shoulder, he added, “I’m gonna take a shower first. Your camera’s on the kitchen counter.”

  Halli stalked into the kitchen, only to freeze at the sight of the camera. What had possessed her to offer to make the copy? She didn’t even want to touch the thing anymore, let alone see what she’d filmed.

  I’ve gotten this far through the day without falling apart… surely I can do this one thing more?

  Deep breath. One foot in front of the other.

  She grabbed the camera and returned to the cabinets in the living room that housed Trent’s home theater system. She hadn’t really thought about it before, but looking at the mirror above, she realized it was one of those ultra cool, ultra expensive mirror TV’s. Of course he’d have one, and with the vintage looking frame, it fit in perfectly with the villa’s décor.

  “Get the copy made and then you can admire his house all you want.”

  A quick check of his system confirmed she’d be able to play the video from her camera and record on his DVR. All she needed now was one of the blank DVDs from the spindle stack in his cabinet, and the cable to connect her camera to his DVR.

  Which was back in the little blue rental car with Ben and Rachel.

  She checked the box of camera equipment Trent had left on the couch, then reluctantly made her way to the bedroom his brother had stayed in. If Trent was right, the same people who’d killed his brother were the ones who were after her.

  Halli fortified herself and pushed open the door. Again, the pungent odor of the room’s facelift assaulted her nostrils. If she had a hard time coming in here, it must’ve been ten times worse for Trent. She couldn’t imagine losing Ben or Rachel forever.

  Not that she saw them every day at home in Wisconsin. Rachel tended to get wrapped up in her jewelry designs and art fairs, while most of the time Ben was flying around the country for his job or traveling on his motorcycle for weeks on end. But at least things stayed ordered and there were no surprises, especially since they both called her on a regular basis. Yes, she’d finally agreed to give up all control of her life for a week, but only because she knew she’d have the two of them as her guaranteed constant during the trip.

  But nothing had been guaranteed since they’d stopped beside the lake. And even now, though she’d left the messages on Ben’s phone, after the crazy, scary events of her day so far, a small part of her worried she would never see her family again.

  Her chest tightened painfully. Before the lump forming in her throat made swallowing impossible, she managed a deep breath. Instead of focusing on how completely powerless she’d been throughout the day, she needed to think of meeting up with Ben and Rachel in the morning. Life would return to normal—as soon as they changed their return trip to the states for tomorrow afternoon.

  In the meantime, she had a video copy to make.

  At the bottom of a second box in the closet, she found a cable compatible with her camera and Trent’s system. As she closed the bedroom door quietly, she heard the very faint sound of the shower in Trent’s room at the end of the hall.

  She paused and closed her eyes, only to pop them wide open and hurry back to the living room. Last thing she needed to imagine was Trent Tomlin naked and wet—especially knowing the size of his condoms.

  Her face burned as she set everything up and plugged the cable into his DVR and her camera, then inserted a blank DVD. A quick check showed her video needed to be rewound, so she pressed the button and waited a full minute before hitting play. Her own face appeared on screen.

  “I promise, Halli, you’re going to love winging it once you get used to it.”

  How ironic she’d chosen that spot to stop the video. Rachel had confiscated the camera while Ben drove. Her sister’s words currently prompted a wry smile, even as her on-screen self gave an uneasy laugh. “I’m not one of the swans on the lake at home, Ben. My wingspan is pretty narrow.”

  “Yes, but you agreed to stretch your wings this week,” Rachel reminded.

  “I know, I know. But you’re still going to have to be patient with me and understand my nerves may get the better of me from time to time.”

  “We’ll break you in easy today,” Ben assured her.

  So much for easy. More like a crash course. Literally.

  The laughter in her brother’s voice brought the ache back to her chest. Tears welled. And Rachel; what she wouldn’t give for a hug from her big sis right now.

  Halli sniffed and blinked away the stinging moisture. Tomorrow she’d see them again and get hugs. Lots of hugs.

  Ignoring the tiny bit of doubt lingering in the dark corners of her mind, she concentrated on the video and tried to figure out where they were at this point. She didn’t think it was too much further along that Ben had parked on the sidewalk so they could check out the lake by that stone wall, so she hit record on Trent’s DVD player.

  A minute later she prepared to fast forward again, but something Ben said on the video jogged her memory. It was coming up. A tremble wobbled the camera in her hands.

  She backed up a step and absently pushed aside a couple of magazines lying on the coffee table so she could sit, still holding the camera. Much as she didn’t want to watch, it was impossible to look away. Trepidation remained, but she found herself determined to see what’d happened to Trent’s friend. Maybe that’s what it would take to make this thing become real in her mind.

  On screen, the large white swans moved with graceful ease across the calm water in direct opposition to the current pounding o
f her pulse. Rachel complained about her filming the swans. Ben offered a suggestion—

  A loud, siren-sounding noise pierced her ears. Halli stifled a scream and leapt up from the coffee table. What the heck was that? When it continued to echo through the living room, she knew.

  Trent’s security alarm!

  A shadow moved by the window to the right of the bar area. Halli froze. Was it a tree branch swaying in the wind, or something more sinister?

  No way she was staying to find out.

  Halli yanked the connection cable from the camera in her hands and ran for the stairs. She sprinted down the hall and threw open the door to Trent’s room just as he stumbled from the bathroom, hair dripping, chest wet, jeans low on his lean hips and unzipped. The sight brought her to an abrupt stop, breathless from her panicked run and the fear coursing through her veins.

  Trent spotted her in the middle of a hard tug on the jeans’ belt loops. He clearly wasn’t wearing any underwear. His attention dropped to his zipper as he groused, “I can’t take a fricken shower without you doing something stupid, can I?”

  Halli tore her gaze away from the dark hair on his lower abdomen and below. She sucked in a deep breath, suddenly too warm for the sweatshirt she still wore.

  “I-it wasn’t me.”

  He jerked his head up. “You didn’t mess with the security system?”

  She shook her head.

  Expression tight, he strode to the nearest window as he zipped his pants and peered through the glass, cursing a string of swear words worthy of any thwarted movie villain.

  The alarm went silent.

  “I saw a shadow outside one of the downstairs windows,” Halli whispered.

  Trent glanced over his shoulder. “For God’s sake, get out of the line of sight then.”

  Her fingers tightened on the camera clutched against her chest as she hurried to his side against the wall.

  “Please tell me the memory card is still in that thing.”

  “It is.”

  Trent leaned forward slightly to peer outside. “Did you get a copy made?”

  “It’s still in your machine.”

  He swore again.