Free Lost in Italy by Stacey Joy Netzel

to pull off the act of a lifetime.  If he didn’t, it might be his last.
    “How’d you find me?” Halli whispered.
    “Where else were you going to go?”
    “I might have gone to my hotel.”
    “Supposedly, you had no money, and honey, you don’t strike me as the type to stick out your thumb on the side of the road.  Not that it would’ve done you any good anyway, since your brother and sister never checked in.”
    “What?  How—”
    He tossed her a frown.  “Shhh.”
    She moved closer and grabbed his arm.  Lowered her voice to a desperate whisper.  “How do you know?  I never mentioned the name of the hotel we were going to stay at.  How—”
    “I found your travel itinerary with your passport and money and called to check.  As of about an hour ago, neither of them had registered.  Your brother isn’t answering his cell, either.”
    The concern in her eyes told him he probably should’ve kept that information to himself until after they were on the way to Milan.
    “That doesn’t make any sense.”
    Tell him something he didn’t know.  It had him a little worried, too, but it wasn’t his problem.  Same as she’d no longer be a pain in his ass as soon as he dropped her at the consulate.
    Trent grasped her shoulders, forcing her gaze to meet his.  “Forget them for now and concentrate on us.  You can’t find them if you’re dead.”
    Fear flashed in her eyes again, but she stiffened her spine and determination overrode all else.  Good.  Maybe she finally understood the seriousness of the situation.  He stepped over to a shelf with clothes items folded on it.  He’d seen a janitor working during the day at Lorenzo’s station once or twice, so this might work.  He shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it to Halli.
    She folded it over her arm, against her stomach.  “The female officer who was getting me a soda has probably found out I’m gone by now.”
    “Yep.”  He jerked a pair of coveralls out and held them up.  Too small for him, too big for her.  As he tossed them aside, he instructed, “Do something with your hair.  Put it up.  Something so it looks different.”
    “I’m pretty sure there’s an exit just down the hall.  That’s where I was headed when you grabbed me.”
    Trent glanced over in surprise.  “You were leaving?”
    “I saw the guy from the villa, too.  I think his name is Alrigo.  At least that’s what the officer called him—”
    His pulse skipped a beat.  Alrigo Lapaglia .  He’d heard of the guy a couple times, and Lorenzo had said his name on the wire, but he hadn’t been able to put a face with the name until now.  “You’re sure he said Alrigo?”
    “Yes.  He was talking to one of the cops, and he said video camera twice, so I pretended to be sick so I could get out of there.”  She tucked the jacket between her knees as she tied her hair in a ponytail with a piece of string she’d pulled off a shelf.  “Did you watch the video?”
    “Exactly when do you think I would’ve had time to find a battery?”
    “I just thought…well, it’s been a couple of hours since I left your place.”
    “And I’ve been sitting outside, waiting to make sure you were okay.”
    Her turn to look surprised.  “You waited for me?”
    “Don’t read anything into it.  I’d have done the same for a stray dog.”
    “Gee, thanks.”
    “Right back at ya, baby.”
    He held up another pair of coveralls.  Close enough.  As he stepped into them, he directed a new surge of anger toward her bent head.
    “You screwed me over real good, you know that?  After your story, the police have probably already swarmed my place and found the camera and the video.  Not to mention the recording from Lorenzo’s wire.  That was my only proof—”
    “I didn’t tell them about you.”
    His hand halted in amazement, the coveralls half zipped.  “You didn’t?”
    She looked up as she shook her head.
    “Seriously?  Why not?”
    She lowered her