“Problem with that is,” he threw her a reproachful glance, “we still don’t know where your brother is. We could put him in more danger.”
Grudgingly, she acknowledged that was the last thing she wanted. Silently, she recognized her current anger toward Trent would only be a hindrance, and released a frustrated sigh. Better to work together, especially given the fact he kept speaking in ‘we’s’ instead of driving back to dump her at the consulate so the US government could take over.
“What other options are there?” she asked.
“We wait and watch…see what they do when you don’t show.”
She shook her head. “Uh-uh.”
“No? Just like that?”
“What good will watching them do?”
“For one, I’d be able to ID some of these guys, and then we could follow them, find out where they’re holding your family.”
“And what then?” she demanded when he didn’t continue. “Rescue them? You and
me
?”
“It’s an option.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Maybe.” He’d driven back around the block by now, and at the farthest corner, pulled over on the right side of the road.
Halli sat forward, craning her neck to get a glimpse of Rachel down and across the street. Trent reached over and tugged her hood back up. She straightened it, realizing it must’ve fallen down during their earlier struggle. She’d love to remove the jacket in the rising heat, but she understood the reason for its bulky disguise. Felt a tiny bit safer in it, too.
After she caught sight of her sister still sitting on the cement block, she looked at Trent. “Listen, I’m all for doing whatever it takes to get them back, but let’s be realistic here. I’m no good at stuff like this.”
“You’re better than I would’ve guessed,” he muttered toward the windshield.
Sticking with realistic, she knew she’d gotten lucky more than once. Starting with his arrival. “Still, what could you and I do against God knows how many of them?”
He sighed through his nose, a sound of pure, controlled frustration. His hands gripped the wheel in front of him and a muscle ticked along the hard line of his unshaven jaw. “Probably not much.”
Her stomach sank. After a moment of silence, she ventured hopefully, “Any other ideas?”
“Nothing viable,” he bit out.
Acute despair formed a lump in her throat. The hopeless feeling churned in the pit of her stomach. He was supposed to have a solution. He’d gotten them this far.
And as suddenly as if someone had flipped a switch, anger flooded back. Not at him, but herself. Since when had she become a helpless wimp, completely dependent on a virtual stranger? The night her parents were arrested for the first and last time, she’d vowed to make a life for herself without resorting to the tricks of their dishonest trade. At sixteen, she got herself a job, finished high school, worked her way through college and established a pretty darn good career.
She sat up straight in her seat, decision pulsating through her body.
No more acting like a victim
. Granted, this was a lot more intense than striking out on her own. And though yesterday may have vaguely resembled one or two fuzzy-edged incidences in her childhood, she was still amazed at what they’d managed to escape. But sure as the sun rose each day, nothing would get better if she crawled in a hole and waited for Trent to rescue her. Or Ben and Rachel, for that matter.
The wheels in Halli’s brain finally kicked in and began to turn. Scenarios played in her mind and she faced Trent’s profile with a surge of hope. “What if we call Ben’s phone and see who answers? If it’s one of these guys, we could offer to trade the video for Ben and Rachel. After all, that’s what they want.”
“I already thought of that, but…”
She frowned at his hesitation. “But what?” Then she gave a short laugh of disbelief. “I get it. You don’t want to lose the video.”
“For starters.”
“My brother and sister are worth more than that video.”
“I won’t argue that, but with Lorenzo’s wire-recording only God knows where by now, your video is the only evidence we have of his murderer.”
“You’ve still got me,” she pointed out. “I could be an eye-witness.”
His head swiveled toward her. “You said you didn’t see anything.”
She shrugged.
“Did you watch the video?”
“I didn’t get that far,” she admitted. “But I believe it’s there if you say it is.”
“You know damn well that’s not good enough.”
“Why not?”
“Because the Halli I know couldn’t testify
under oath
that she saw who pulled the trigger if she didn’t actually see it.”
“You don’t know me that well,” she argued.
“Well enough.”
His gaze returned to the street as she fumed beside him. Darn man was right about one thing—she wouldn’t lie under oath. But he was wrong about the other. Calling Ben’s phone was a better idea than anything he’d offered.
“You said for starters. What else do you have against my idea?”
“If they agree to the exchange, there’s still no guarantee we’d get both of them back. One, maybe, but two would be pretty hard. Two bargaining chips gives them too much leverage.”
“So we grab Rachel now and trade the video for Ben. Besides, even with the odds stacked against us, negotiating for an exchange is smarter than rushing in like Remington Steele and Mrs. King.”
His gaze narrowed as he stared out the windshield. “Scarecrow.”
“What?”
“You’re talking about two different TV shows. Remington Steele did not partner with Mrs. King.”
“Who cares? You know what I meant.” Now that she’d decided to do something instead of let things happen, Halli’s annoyance grew by leaps and bounds. She hated sitting here while her sister sat at the other end of the block.
“How do you even know those shows?” Trent asked. “Weren’t they way before your time?”
His, too. But her retort about reruns on TV Land was forgotten when his entire body suddenly went on alert. He leaned slightly forward, his attention focused down the street. Halli instinctively mirrored his movements.
A man carrying a newspaper had stepped from a vehicle parked on the left side of the street, not far from Rachel. Nothing unusual, other than the fact that the blond man wore black pants and a black jacket that probably made him sweat like a pig in the bright July sun. Halli watched his casual stroll toward her sister, who rose to her feet, then abruptly sat back down.
“You see that?” Trent asked.
Intent on the action, Halli nodded.
Rachel’s head jerked in denial to something the man must’ve said. He walked past, did a quick scan of the immediate area, and sat on the cement barricade near her. It was definitely not Alrigo Lapaglia. She’d gotten a good enough look at him at the police station.
“Do you recognize him?” Halli asked Trent.
“No.”
Her sister didn’t turn to look at the man who now appeared to leisurely read his paper. She simply stared straight ahead, or down the block, in their general direction. Not that she’d see them this far away, sitting in the car.
When Rachel began chewing on another nail, Halli wished she could do something. Anything. The situation was definitely bad if her sister was ruining the very nails she’d paid to have professionally manicured before their trip.
Halli shifted her attention. “There’s only one other guy in that car now—and he’s in the passenger seat.”
“I noticed.” Trent said under his breath. His fingers drummed out a staccato beat on the steering wheel. “You know…with the right diversion, we just might be able to pull this off.”
Wait—when had they come to a decision about what they were going to do? She ground her teeth against the helpless feeling of always being two steps behind. “Pull what off?”
“Grab your sister and bargain for your brother.”
Chapter 15
Ten minutes later, Halli was expecting him, yet she still nearly jumped out of her skin when Trent appeared next to the driver’s side door of their borrowed car. Because he’d had her move behind the wheel while he was gone,
“just in case,”
she scrambled back across to the passenger seat so he could get in.
“All set,” he said, flashing a newly purchased, throwaway cell phone. “Anything new going on over there?”
“No.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off her sister more than a few seconds every so often to check the mirrors around the car. Trent had caught her in between sweeps and in the middle of a prayer, since she was still unsure of his plan.
“What if there’s more than just those two?” she worried out loud.
“Have you come up with a better idea in the past fifteen minutes?”
“No.”
“Then let’s hope to God there isn’t.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Anytime I can help.”
He didn’t look at her, but she saw the corner of his mouth crook up. Her back teeth clenched together. Easy for him to joke when it wasn’t his sister and brother dangling on the hook. Just as quick, she thought of his deceased brother, Sean, and his cop friend, and took the thought back.
After a deep breath, she eyed the phone and asked, “You really think it’s okay to involve the police now?”
“For a distraction only, we’ll have to chance it. Besides, the phone call will be completely anonymous and I don’t plan on saying anything more than it looks like a drug deal going down.” He lifted the phone as if to make the call.
“Do you think it’ll take long for them to get here?”
“Illegal activities this close to a foreign consulate? I suspect they’ll be here in minutes. In fact, you should get in the back now.”
A frisson of resurgent fear threatened to override her earlier determination. She climbed between the seats and sat directly behind Trent like they’d talked about, so she’d be on the side closest to Rachel. The deep breath she sucked in and immediately released ended up much louder than she expected.
Trent’s head jerked up, catching her gaze in the review mirror. “What’s the matter?”
She hated to admit it after having just decided to stop being a victim, but there was no denying the tremble in her hands. “I’m scared.”
A split second smile softened his expression. “
I’d
be scared if you weren’t.”
She tried to smile back, but it felt all wobbly.
Focus, Halli
. She looked past Trent at Rachel to bolster her courage and resolve, only to have her heart thump in her chest. Clenching the headrest, she pulled herself forward.
“Something’s going on.”
Trent’s attention shifted as well. Rachel stood in front of the blond man, hands on her hips, in what Halli recognized as her stubborn stance. It appeared the two were arguing. It also appeared Rachel won when the blond man spoke toward the car his partner sat in and pointed across the street, down the block away from where Trent and Halli were parked.
The man in the car turned his face and Halli gasped. “That’s the guy from last night! I scratched his face when he tackled me.”
Trent straightened in his seat as the blond man took hold of Rachel’s elbow and escorted her in the direction he’d pointed. Halli immediately noticed her sister’s pronounced limp. Rachel jerked free of the man’s grip, but continued walking at his side.
Halli’s attacker from the night before remained in the car, even after Rachel and her guard disappeared inside a corner café.
Without warning, Trent started the car and navigated back into the one-way traffic. “Change of plans, sweetheart. Give me the jacket and get down on the floor.”
Halli ducked down below the window level and struggled to remove Trent’s windbreaker in the close confines. “What are we doing?”
“I’m leveling the playing field to one on one. If I can get inside that shop, maybe I can take out one of these guys without drawing the attention of the other. Roll down that back window a little so you can hear when your sister is on her way.”
She pushed the jacket to him between the seats before spinning the handle for the window a half dozen times. It was hard to resist the urge to poke her head up to see where they were. A second later, Trent braked hard enough to throw her against the front seats. Once she stabilized herself, a peek through the seats revealed him knotting the jacket sleeves around his waist. Over the gun.
When she heard the driver’s door open, she said, “Trent?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not going to shoot that guy, are you?”
“Not if I don’t have to.”
Shocks creaked as his weight lifted from the car. “Trent?”
“
What?
”
“Be careful.”
Trent appreciated her concern, but slammed the door and strolled around the front of the car, keeping his back to the guy parked a short twenty or thirty yards behind them on the opposite side of the street. He’d double checked twice, but still found his hands itching for reassurance that the windbreaker completely concealed the gun stuck in his front waistband.