Lost in Italy Read Online Free PDF Page B

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