Lost in Italy (22 page)

Through a part in the curtains, he saw dawn had broken across the water.  The sun peaked over the snow tipped eastward mountains that made up part of the alpine region surrounding Lake Como.  It was absolutely breathtaking, and he wondered if Halli could see it from wherever she was at this moment.  Worry stirred in his gut.  Was she safe out there all alone, or possibly still with the mysterious stranger helping her?

He hoped he’d get to meet the man some day and thank him.  But not today.  God, he wished there were some way to warn Halli before she went to the consulate in Milan.

A snore erupted from the bruised face of the guard at the door.  He shifted in his chair, snorted once more, then silence returned.  Ben listened carefully.  It seemed the rest of the house slept along with the guard so he sat up to reevaluate the balcony he’d assessed the day before.  The one story drop might be a problem for Rachel, but it couldn’t be helped.  This might be their only chance to escape.

Movement in the courtyard below caught his attention.  He leaned forward and nudged aside the curtain for a better look.  The Italian woman from the night before stood on a small cobblestoned area of a corner garden.  Eva balanced on one leg in a difficult yoga move his last girlfriend had attempted a time or two.  Spandex clad curves flowed lithely from one pose to the next, her control of movement remarkable.

Damn
.  She posed a problem out there.  As if sensing his scrutiny, her head lifted toward the second story window.  Ben ducked back behind the curtains and shifted toward the door.  Forget the woman for a moment, he had to concentrate on disabling Zucchi.  Better yet if he could secure the gun hanging limply from the man’s lap.

He looked around for something to use as a weapon.  Something quiet, but effect—

His gaze swung back to the sleeping guard and focused on the weapon.  His heart began to pound.  Could he really go and just pluck it from his grasp?  And would the guy stay quiet with a gun in his face?  Hopefully.  He wouldn’t want to have to make the decision to pull the trigger.

One smooth movement brought him to his feet.  He allowed no time to think before crossing to Zucchi’s side and snatching the gun.   The guard came awake with a start, but Ben pressed the barrel hard against his cheek. 
“Shh.”

Zucchi’s dark eyes widened, but he didn’t make a sound.

“One word and I’ll blow your head off. 
Capiche?
”  Good God, he even nailed the Godfather accent.  The guy nodded.   Ben stepped back and jerked his head toward the bed where Rachel slept.  “Up.  Move slow and don’t make a sound.”

Once they were near the bed, he shoved Zucchi to the chair.  Without taking his eyes off the man, he leaned over and gently shook his sister.  “Rachel, wake up.”

She groaned softly and he felt her shift away.  She wasn’t a morning person and didn’t usually become coherent until after a couple cups of coffee.  After one swift glance, he returned his gaze to Zucchi before shaking a little harder.

“
Rach,
wake up.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her roll over, blink a few times, then she jolted upward with a gasp.

“
Shh,
”, he warned.  “Come on, let’s go.  We’re getting out of here.”

She scrambled off the bed, in no need of liquid stimulants this morning.  “I’m all for that.  What about him?”

They both looked at Zucchi, glaring at them above his bruised, swollen nose.

“Tie him up,” Ben told his sister.  Then he caught the guy’s eye.  “You even think about touching her, buddy, you’ll be singing soprano for life. 
If
you live that long.”

Rachel moved toward the curtains.

“Stay away from the windows,” Ben ordered.  “That woman was out there.  I don’t want her to see we’re awake.”

“I need the sashes to tie him up.”  Rachel removed the restraints and gave a quick peek out the window.  “Looks clear.”

Ben kept the gun trained on Zucchi’s lap as she approached the chair.  He hated having Rachel do the hands on work, but she had no experience at all with guns.

While she tied the man’s hands to the arm chairs, Ben felt behind him for a pillow.  “Tight as you can, sis, and hurry up.”

The pillow slid from its case when he upended it, and he tossed the material to Rachel when she was done.  “Gag him.”

Confident he had a little breathing space, Ben eased over to the window.  The courtyard did appear deserted.  Did they chance their escape that way, or try the hall?  He turned back to Rachel to see her unlacing one of her shoes.  “What are you doing?”

“Tying his feet so he can’t kick something and make noise after we leave.”

“Good thinking.”

The yard remained empty and he decided they’d go that way.  Rachel finished tying Zucchi’s feet and stood.  Ben walked behind the chair and tipped it back on two legs.

He pressed the tip of the gun to Zucchi’s forehead.  “Is there any security on the windows?”

Zucchi’s Adam’s apple bobbed frantically.  He soundlessly jerked his head back and forth.

“If an alarm goes off when I open that window, I will shoot you before we run.  Understand?”

Zucchi nodded.

Ben lowered the chair backward, all the way to the floor, and stepped over him to the window.  He held the gun chest high and reached to unlatch the window.  It swung open with the slightest of squeaks.  Rachel sucked in a breath and their eyes met for a charged moment.  The absence of an alarm did not allow for relaxation, and Ben took a deep breath before stepping out onto the balcony, his sister close behind.

They crept steadily along the length of the villa, crawling under each window while Ben tried to figure out the best place to jump down.  It was hard to see what was underneath and the last thing he wanted to do was drop directly in front of a lower window.  The very end looked to offer the best protection.  Ben debated giving Rachel the gun, but decided to tuck it against his back instead.

He pulled her close and breathed in her ear, “I’ll let you know when to jump, okay?”

She gulped and nodded agreement.  Ben judged the distance, grabbed the railing, and vaulted over the side.  He landed on his feet and immediately dropped down into a squat to do a quick visual sweep of the surrounding area. 
All clear
.  Rachel had climbed over the rail and stood on the edge, waiting for his signal.  He waved her down.

She bent her knees, leaned forward, and jumped.  One of her unlaced shoes fell ahead of her.  Her landing was far from elegant and she gave a soft cry as she tumbled to the ground.  Ben rushed to her side and helped her to her feet.  One step and she nearly fell again.  A barely perceptible moan escaped her compressed lips.  “My ankle.”

Ben swore under his breath.  Seconds later, shattered glass sounded from the second floor.  Somewhere in the house, a dog barked.  Ben swore again, pulled the gun, and braced Rachel’s arm around his neck.  As they started forward, he was struck with a sense of déjà vu.  He couldn’t help but crack, “Just like old times, hey sis?”

“Been a long time.”

“Sure has.  But we’re old pros.  We can do this.”

She soldiered on with him, but her ankle slowed them down.  At the end of the villa wall, Ben took a quick look around the corner and spotted their Fiat rental in the drive.  It’d been years since he’d hotwired a car, and never a foreign one.  Shouts from inside the house indicated their absence had been discovered.  A door slammed on the bottom level.  There was no time for him to even try the car.

“Come on, this way.”

Rachel stumbled as they ran across the drive toward the neighboring property.  Ben held her upright and saw she’d lost her other shoe.  He fought against impatience and focused straight ahead.  If they could get past the six foot high privacy hedge surrounding the villa, they might be able to get help.

A deep, ferocious growl halted them in their tracks.  Ben whirled, gun raised as he pushed Rachel behind him.  Rachel’s shriek vibrated his eardrum at the sight of Nino pointing a gun at them while holding the leash attached to a huge black Rottweiler.  The dog’s white teeth gleamed beneath curled, snarling lips.  Drool dripped from massive jaws.

“Drop the gun,” Nino ordered.

Ben’s fingers clenched on the handle of the pistol. 
Damn it.
  They’d been so close.  A indecisive glance around convinced him he had no other choice than to toss it aside.

“Benjamin, you insult my hospitality.”  Alrigo approached in Ben’s peripheral vision.  “If you are in need of fresh air, you must ask nicely.”

He swore silently and smiled at the man.  “We did.  Zucchi wasn’t very accommodating.”

Alrigo leaned to pick up Ben’s discarded weapon as he laughed.  The sound chilled the blood in Ben’s veins.

“You still wish to run this beautiful morning?” Alrigo taunted.  “I am sure Bruno would be happy to...accommodate.”

Ben eyed the now panting dog and lifted his gaze to the stone-faced Nino while Alrigo circled behind him.  “No, thank you.”

“Excellent decision.”

Without warning, a forceful blow on the back of Ben’s skull knocked him to his knees.  Rachel cried out as pain radiated through his skull and the dog went wild, barking and snarling.

Reflexes stunned, Ben tried to turn toward his sister, but Alrigo moved in front of him.  The man grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head up while the other fist slammed into his jaw.  Agony exploded across Ben’s face.  A second strike nearly made him pass out and when shoved to the ground, he was too disorientated to brace his fall.

Gravel bit into his already throbbing cheek.  Eyes squeezed shut, he swallowed hard and tasted blood.  The dog’s bark echoed in his throbbing head.

Get up!

He gave his head a shake, trying to clear all thought but the one, and opened his eyes to fight his way to his feet.  His gaze registered a booted foot a split second before the rock solid force connected with his ribs.  Air rushed from his lungs on a whooshing grunt.  Fire seared his mid-section.  Ben coughed and gasped for oxygen as another kick had him instinctively curling into a ball.

Blackness crowded the edges of his vision.  Rachel sobbed and begged the Italian to stop.

Distantly, Ben heard another female, speaking in curt Italian. 
Eva.

“Basta.” 
Nino’s firmly voiced command brought everything to a halt.

Rachel knelt at Ben’s side.   Tears ran down her cheeks.  “Ben, are you okay?”

Holding back an agonized groan, he pushed himself to his knees, turning his head to the side to spit out a mouthful of blood.  He felt with his tongue for the gash inside his cheek and smoothed the jagged skin back in place.  When he lifted his gaze, Eva stood next to Nino, still in her spandex yoga suit, hand resting on the Rottweiler’s head.  Bruno stood perfectly still and silent.

Eva’s concerned brown eyes connected with his, but he had no chance to wonder about the emotion before she spun on her bare foot and retreated to the house.  He resisted raising his head to watch her leave.

“Get up,” Alrigo bit out.

Rachel helped him to his feet.  He was sore all over, and they made quite the pair, him partially doubled over and her limping on her sprained ankle.  With each step closer to the stone doorway leading them back to their prison, frustration and anger mounted.  They should be free right now.

At the door, he urged Rachel ahead of him, and cast a covert glance back toward Alrigo.  The man’s attention was diverted by a vehicle that’d just turned in between the gates of the villa.  Ben bent low and took a step backward at the same time.  His elbow connected with Alrigo’s ribs, eliciting a hoarse cry of pain.

He smiled his revenge and spun to face their captor, prepared to beat the prick to a pulp.  He’d pulled his arm back, fingers forming into a fist, when something struck him from behind again.  The world went black before he hit the floor.

****

Ben came to on a soft surface.  Gentle fingers pressed a cool cloth to his throbbing face.  His head pounded as if punishing him for an all day bender and his body ached as if he’d gunned his bike off the side of a cliff and landed on rocks.

Still…if Rachel was taking care of him, that meant she was okay.  He cracked an eye open.  Steady brown eyes regarded him.

Eva
.

Ben stilled in surprise, then cast his gaze about the room and moved to sit up.  His upward momentum was cut short with a painful bite and a metallic jangle on his wrists.  He twisted his head to discover his arms were handcuffed to the bed.  A jerk of one arm did nothing more than rattle the metal chain and wrench his wrist.

“Rachel?” he called, searching the room again as fear squeezed his chest.  His gaze sliced to Eva.  “Where’s my sister?”

Eva’s hand lowered.  She turned to dip the cloth into a bowl of ice water sitting on a table next to the bed.  “Rachel is fine.”

“Where is she?” he demanded again.

“Resting in a different room to repair her ankle.”

“I want to see her.”