Lost in Italy (29 page)

“What?  No.  What about Ben?”  She stood her ground.

“We have to trust the video is enough to keep him alive.”

“But—”

He gripped her shoulders.  “Your sister needs medical help.  You know that.  Once we’re close to the consulate, I’ll get out and continue with the original plan.  You take Rachel to the consulate and get her the help she needs.  You’ll both be protected and I’ll get Ben.”

Rachel stirred in the back seat.  Halli glanced inside, before facing him with obvious indecision.

“I have to go this alone, Halli, but I also have to know you’re safe.  If I’m worried about you it’s going to get us all killed.  The consulate is our only option right now.”

“No.”

The feeble denial came from Rachel.  She reached for the door handle, only to collapse onto the seat.  Trent ducked inside, over the driver’s side as Halli yanked open the back door.  She helped her sister back into a sitting position.

“You need to rest.  Don’t move,” Halli cautioned.

Rachel’s labored breathing doubled Trent’s alarm.  After a moment, though, she caught her breath.  “We can’t go back to the consulate.”

“We have no other choice,” Trent said.

Rachel shook her head.  “Ben.”

“Leave him out of it.  Make up a story about the café shooting, and I’ll take care of your brother.”

“Listen to me,” Rachel insisted weakly.  She grasped Halli’s hand and looked from her sister to Trent.  “There’s someone inside.  We can’t go there.”

Trent’s fingers tightened on the seat.  Halli’s gaze met his as she asked, “What do you mean by inside?”

“One of the consulate guards.  He talked to Tony.  They knew each other.”

“Who’s Tony?”

“The blond asshole in the coffee shop.  If we go back to the consulate,
they’ll know
, and Ben is dead for sure.”

As if the words sapped the last of her strength, Rachel sagged back against the seat.  Her lashes fluttered, her eyes rolled back, and air whooshed from between her dry, parted lips.  The hand that’d been holding Halli’s went limp with the rest of her body.

“Rachel? 
Rachel!
”

Trent reached across the seat to feel for her pulse, heart in his throat.  A moment later, he gave Halli a tense nod and sat back.  “I think she passed out.  Surprising she didn’t do it sooner.”

Halli checked the wound on Rachel’s leg and Trent was relieved to see the makeshift tourniquet was working.  Tears swam in Halli’s eyes when she lifted her gaze again.  “Now what?”  When he didn’t answer right away, she dipped her chin to catch his eye.  “Trent?”

“I don’t know.”  It killed him to admit it out loud, but there it was.  Rachel had shot his solution all to hell, and he didn’t know which way to turn next.  He couldn’t look Halli in the face and turned away with the pretense of another check of their surroundings.

“We’ve got to figure something out,” Halli hounded.  “There has to be somewhere we can get help.”

If Lapaglia had someone in as deep as the consulate, there was no way they could risk a hospital.  The cops would show up in a heartbeat, especially if hospital officials had been alerted to watch for a gunshot victim.  But they wouldn’t know which side those cops were on until it was too late.

For lack of anything better to do, he started the car and began driving.  Halli kept talking.

“What about a smaller clinic, they have facilities like that here, don’t they, like in the US?  Or…I know!  What about a veterinarian?”  She sat forward, hugging his seat back so that her chin hovered just above his right shoulder.  “Remember that movie—
Bird on a Wire
?  Mel Gibson was treated by a veterinarian when he was shot in the butt.”

“Too bad I don’t conveniently have a veterinarian ex-lover here in Italy.”

“It’s an idea,” she retorted with distinct annoyance when he flicked his gaze to hers in the review mirror.  “Sometimes it helps to talk things out with someone.  Like in
High Lonesome
, when Shain and the sheriff figured out a way to save Emma.”

“You’re not seriously comparing this to one of my movies, are you?”  If she’d just shut up, he could—

“Why not?  Shain does stuff like this all the time.  What would he do?”

“I don’t know!” he shouted.

She sat back abruptly and he braked.  Took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.  Just give me a minute to think, will you?  This is a hell of a lot different than reading a script written by someone else.”

A memory struck like a bolt of lightning.  Simone, Lorenzo’s girlfriend who was a nurse, had offered to read lines with him after dinner one night.  And he recalled Lorenzo had told him yesterday she was working the night shift all week so she’d be at her city house.  After mentally placing the next couple street signs on a map in his head, Trent recognized they weren’t that far away.

He didn’t say anything to Halli lest she restart her inquisition, and she actually kept quiet as he drove.  A glance in the mirror wasn’t enough time to tell if she was pissed or worried about her sister.  Probably both, but since they were almost there, he refocused on the road and once they arrived at Simone’s small house, he simply said, “Wait here.”  No sense getting her hopes up if Simone wasn’t home.

Urgency, hope and dread all took their turns tying his stomach in a knot as he knocked on the door.  A full minute went by and he knocked again.  He’d begun to think their luck had permanently changed for the worse when the door swung open.

Simone stood before him dressed, ironically, in her nurse’s scrubs.  The unflattering hospital garb did nothing to diminish her beauty, still stunning in her mid-fifties.  Her eyes lit up when she saw him.  “Trent! 
Ciao
.  How good it is to see you.”

“Simone.”  He leaned down to kiss each cheek she offered, a painful lump in his throat.  One of the sweetest, most generous people he’d ever met, her kind heart had balanced Lorenzo’s brusque demeanor to perfection.  Based on her happy smile of welcome, Trent knew she had no clue what’d happened yesterday morning.  He wanted to hug her tight and tell her right then—get it over with—but that would be too much of a shock.  Hopefully, a more sensitive opportunity would present itself.

“Renzo’s not here, but please, come in,” Simone offered.  “I need a moment to change from my work clothes.”

Trent took her hand before she could back away from the doorway.  “Simone, I need your help.”

She answered with a puzzled smile, but no hesitation.  “Of course I will help you.  Tell me what you need.”

Trent took a deep breath and battled a twinge of duplicity for not telling her about Lorenzo first.  But Rachel might not have time.  “A friend is in trouble.  She was shot, but we can’t go to a hospital.  People are searching for her.”

Simone’s eyes went wide.  “Where is this friend?”

He nodded toward the car.  Simone cast a furtive glance around, as if the people he’d mentioned would suddenly appear.  “Bring her inside.  I will prepare in the kitchen.”

Relief swept through him.  “Thank you, Simone.  You have no idea—”

“Go.”  She waved him away.  “Get her.”

Trent did a quick scan of his own as he jogged back to the street.  Thankfully, it appeared to be very quiet this late in the morning and there’d be no nosey neighbors to watch them carry Rachel inside.  He opened the back door closest to Rachel and was relieved to see she’d regained consciousness.

“Let’s get you inside.”

“Where are we?” Halli demanded.

“A friend’s house.  She’s a nurse,” he explained briefly, reaching for Rachel.

“Remembered an ex-lover after all?”

Halli’s judgmental tone raised his hackles.  “Simone is Lorenzo’s girlfriend of sixteen years.”

He saw the instant she understood the complication of their arrival when her contrite gaze met his.

“Does she know?” Halli asked.

“No,” he said, taking the brunt of her sister’s weight so she could close the door.  “And I’m still trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to tell her, so keep your mouth shut.”

The sympathy in her eyes dampened from an infusion of indignation.  “I wouldn’t say anything on purpose to hurt her, so don’t start acting like a jerk again.”

Trent bit back a retort as she opened the front passenger door and leaned inside.  That word was starting to get on his nerves.  She was right, though, his comment was uncalled for.  Picking a fight with her right now would only serve to redirect his stress, not relieve it.

Seeing Halli had grabbed her camera only added to his stress with a flash of guilt. 
Shit
.  She hadn’t checked the memory card since they’d left the boat.  For one, he had no doubt he’d have heard about it, and two, she wouldn’t have bothered with the useless, empty camera.  Something told him now was not the time to bring it up; as they carried her wounded sister inside and waited for a call from her hostage-held brother.

Simone was all business as they entered the kitchen.  Trent and Halli followed her instructions to help Rachel sit on the blanket-covered kitchen table and stretch her legs out.  He made very brief first name introductions then hurried outside to move the car to the side of the house.  Not completely out of sight, but out of the way for now.

When he made his way back inside, Simone had just finished cutting away Rachel’s red-stained pant leg.  Halli held her sister’s hand.  If she thought he’d bled a lot last night, how was she handling this?

He studied her face, but she seemed to be holding up okay.

Simone kept up a running commentary as she worked.  “Bullet went straight though.  That is good.  And it is not near the femoral artery—also good.”  She glanced up from the wound toward Rachel.  “Or you would be dead right now.”

Trent winced.  Halli drew in a sharp breath.  If possible, Rachel paled even more as she leaned back against the kitchen wall.

“How long ago did this happen?” Simone asked.

Trent looked to his wrist, only to remember he’d removed his watch for his shower last night and it was still sitting on his bathroom counter at the villa.  So he guessed.  “About a half hour.”

“Maybe forty-five minutes,” Halli added.

“Good job stopping the bleeding.”  Simone worked quickly to clean and bandage the wound.

Silent tears trickled down Rachel’s face, and more than once Trent noticed Halli switch hands and flex her freed fingers.  Finally, Simone handed a couple of pills to Rachel with a glass of water and a professional, reassuring smile.

“This will dull the pain.  You will recover, with antibiotics to prevent infection and much rest.  This bandage is temporary, until I return from the
ospedale
with adequate supplies.”

Trent tensed at the Italian word for hospital.  “Simone—”

“I know.”  She rubbed Rachel’s arm, then walked over to deposit the empty glass on the counter next to Trent. “Discretion is of upmost importance,
si
?”

“
Si. 
Lives depend on it.”

“So be it.”  She picked up a set of keys from the counter and glanced at Halli on her way to the back door.  “We are close in size.  Choose some clean clothes from my room and use the bathroom down the hall to clean up, if you wish.  Rachel, wait for my return.  I will hurry, but do not expect me sooner than at least one hour.”

“
Grazie
.”

Trent’s thank you was lost under Halli’s, “Trent was shot, too.  Last night.”

She might as well have shined a spotlight on him.

Rachel’s eyes widened.  “You were?”

He threw Halli a dark look as Simone pinned him with a frown.  “Why do you not tell me this?”

“It’s just a scratch and Halli already patched me up.”

“It’s more than a scratch,” Halli contradicted.  “If Rachel needs antibiotics, it stands to reason you do, too.  Especially after being dunked in the lake water.”

“Show me this
scratch
.”

Simone’s tone brooked no argument so he reluctantly unbuttoned his shirt to shrug free of the sleeve.  He’d gotten used to the constant ache, but with nothing else to claim his attention, the sharp twinge that accompanied the flex of his bicep made him grimace.

Simone unwound the Ace bandage, and clucked in disapproval.  “
Si
.  Antibiotics,
idiota
.”  Her gaze shifted.  “And what is all this?”

Trent didn’t have to look down to know she meant the large black and blue blotch about the size of a boot print in the middle of his chest.  More bruises colored his left side where his ribs had taken his full weight when he slipped on the side of the boat.  He slid his arm back in his sleeve and pulled the shirt edges closed.  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

She rolled her eyes and departed without another word.

After the click of the door, Trent buttoned his shirt and prepared to meet Halli’s I-told-you-so expression.  But she’d already moved on.  “You should try the phone again.”