Grace didn’t think twice. She didn’t have to see the scooter. She didn’t have to hear the annoying whine of its engine. She didn’t have to feel the explosions. She didn’t even look at Luke. She seized the wheel like her life depended on it, popped the clutch, and crushed the gas pedal for all she was worth.
For a second, nothing happened. The car revved, tires skidding, but it didn’t move. It took her the blink of an eye to realize it couldn’t move while wedged against the corner like that. She slammed it into reverse, backed out, and then hit the gas.
She made it a mile or two before Luke groaned and straightened himself out. He blinked into the wind blasting across the hood then pointed to one side. “Down there.”
She followed his instructions until he told her to park in the middle of the block. Her addled brain noticed an American flag waving from a nice-looking building not far away. “What is this place?”
He threw the passenger door open. “It’s the American embassy.”
“It’s the middle of the night. Are they going to let us in?”
“It’s closed, but there’s always someone on duty.”
She pulled the driver’s door handle, but nothing happened. No amount of pushing would open it. It wouldn’t budge. She started to panic before she remembered that the collision had crumpled it.
Luke sat still in his seat, looking out the open passenger door. He kept blinking at nothing. She cocked her head to look at him. “Are you okay? Are you coming in?”
He stole a sidelong glance at her and made a face. “I’m afraid you’ll have to help me get out.”
“I mean … I can’t get out my door,” she said before her brain kicked into gear and she realized she was being ridiculous. What the hell difference did it make anymore what she did or how she did it? It didn’t matter as long as Lena’s killer was caught, and she and Luke made it out alive. Her priorities had narrowed quite a bit in the last day or so.
She propped herself up on her hands and knees and crawled over his lap. He didn’t protest when she wriggled out through the passenger door. She swung around and got hold of him under his armpits. She heaved and hauled him out of the car. She was getting used to this.
She slung his elbow across her shoulders and headed for that flag. The stars and stripes had never looked so good. They made her feel safe. Secure. Like waking up after a nightmare, this was a bit of normal amid the chaos.
Luke hobbled on his good leg, and his breath croaked in his throat. He sounded awful, but at least they were within sight of safety. The killer could never reach them here.
A uniformed Marine stopped them at the entrance. “May I please see some ID?”
Luke twisted his hand out of Grace’s grasp and dove into his pocket. He pulled out his passport and wallet. He handed the passport to the Marine and opened his wallet to show his badge and credentials. He leaned his whole weight on Grace’s shoulders while they waited for the guy to inspect it, but she didn’t care. She could stand there forever on the steps of the American embassy knowing the Marines would protect them. She had done her job. Now she could rest.
The Marine handed back the passport and shot his unflinching eyes at Grace. “Go right on in, sir.”
Chapter Six
A salt-and-pepper-haired man in a suit entered the office where she had been resting and held something out, setting it on the desk. “Here’s your temporary passport, Ms. Costa, and here are your tickets. You’re on a nine o’clock flight, which is in four hours. We’ll call a taxi to take you to the airport.”
Grace looked at the documents in her hands. They didn’t look right against her fingers. She’d be leaving. Without the assurance that Lena’s killer had been caught. Of course, there was some relief to getting out of here, but it also seemed a bit … unfinished.
“What about my phone? It has video evidence of the identity of the man who killed the congressman, and the gunman who chased me all night is still out there.”
He nodded and shut his eyes hastily. “We’ll take care of everything. The carabinieri are already tracking down the shooter, and they know about your phone. They’ll find it. We have no reason to believe he stayed in the area. In fact, I can’t recall a time when an assassin stuck around. No offense, Miss Costa, but you’re just a small inconvenience for him. He’s long gone. The taxi should be here in about thirty minutes. In the meantime, call your parents so they know you’re coming home. You’ll need support after everything you’ve been through.”
She nodded, but she didn’t want to call her parents, and she didn’t want to go back to Clearwater. She wanted to find her phone and make sure the shooter was arrested. She didn’t feel right leaving Rome with him still at large—and with Lena’s spirit watching her give up.
The look on her face must have given away her unease with this resolution. The man approached her and laid his hand on her shoulder. “I understand it’s overwhelming and a little beyond imagination. I’ll bring you a phone to make your call.”
She looked up. He stood so close in front of her she could make out the pores in his skin, but he didn’t look real. Nothing seemed real. “What about Luke?” she asked. “How is he? Will I see him again?”
The man moved to the door. She didn’t even know his name. That was how unreal he was. She felt like an outsider, an alien.
“Mr. Barnes is receiving medical attention for his injuries as we speak. Then he’ll be flying back to Virginia. He has no jurisdiction in Rome, and I’m sure he’s not at all pleased about spending the rest of his paid leave in the hospital.” The man chuckled and waved toward the door. “On second thought, there’s a sitting room down this corridor. You can make your phone call from there. It’s quieter and more private than this office.”
Grace cast another glance around the room in which she stood. After being interviewed by an immigration officer, a special agent with the CIA, the deputy ambassador, and a few more people whose titles she didn’t know, none of this seemed real. In her mind, she was still out on the street running from the shooter. She still felt a bit … unsafe.
She followed the man as he led her down a very dignified corridor lined with rooms decorated like those in an upscale Italian mansion. She expected something stiffer. With less color. Like all the official buildings she’d ever been to. Not this oasis of luxury.
She glanced into parlors, libraries, offices, and conference rooms as she headed … somewhere. She didn’t even really care anymore where she went. Part of her mind wouldn’t accept that the danger was over. The other part wouldn’t accept that it had ever happened. Both sides agreed that this didn’t feel right. Maybe she had imagined everything, and she would wake up in the apartment with Lena next to her.
The man in the suit walked ahead, keeping his back to her. Just then, she passed another room. The door stood open. When she looked in, she saw Luke sitting on an ornate mahogany desk. His legs dangled over the side. He was not wearing a shirt, and his bare arms revealed a sharp cut of muscle. He wore a pair of tight black briefs over his bare legs. Another man wearing glasses and camo fatigues sat on a stool at his knee, stitching up Luke’s thigh.
She didn’t realize she was walking into the room until Luke looked up and saw her. His eyebrows shot up. “Hey! Are you okay? Sorry I got separated from you. I had to get debriefed by one of their CIA handlers. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”
The man who was escorting her stood in the doorway and watched for a second. “Miss Costa,” he finally said, sounding slightly annoyed.
Luke looked over at him and said, “I got it.” The man sighed, turned around, and walked out.
Now that Grace saw him again, she realized how quickly she had grown to care about him. An intense side effect of all that trauma. Her heart hurt, bursting with unexpected emotion. “They’re sending me home. They said you were going back to Virginia. I thought I wouldn’t see you again.”
He held out his hand and clasped hers. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re going where you’
ll be safe.”
“Yeah, but …” She cast a glance over her shoulder toward the door. “Luke?”
Before he could answer, the medic stood. “You’re all done. Try to stay off it for a few days.”
He grabbed a zippered case from the desk and left, shutting the door behind him. It left the room too quiet and with too much space for all the questions to zoom around. Now Grace was all alone with Luke.
The minute the doorknob clicked, Luke’s fingers closed on her hand and he drew her toward him. He lowered his voice to a sultry murmur. “Hey! It’s going to be okay. You don’t belong over here. I made a mistake taking you to find that phone alone. I know better. You go on home to your lab. You’ll be happy there.” The slightest smirk was on his face.
“Yeah, but …” She couldn’t think of what to say to him. She wanted to cry. Too many emotions and not enough sleep made her feel vulnerable. “What about finishing this?”
“You don’t have to worry about that now. That’s somebody else’s job. It’s the first rule of law enforcement—know when to let someone else do their job so you can concentrate on yours. The carabinieri will find your phone, wherever it is. They’ll catch the guy, and they’ll be a lot more effective than we could ever be.”
She looked up at his face. His features swam in the tears welling up in her eyes. Her throat constricted. She couldn’t understand what she was feeling. “They said you were going back to Virginia.”
Before she could stop it, a tear overflowed and streaked down her cheek. All the emotion of the last twenty-four hours hit her at once. The downtime would give her time to come to terms with Lena being gone, but it would be a long time before that wound healed. She ought to be glad she was getting out of Rome, but she wasn’t. It felt like the worst tragedy of her life. It felt like by leaving, she’d really have to leave Lena behind.
“Hey!” he whispered. “It’s all right.”
He towed her toward him and drew her between his knees, his bare arms closing around her. Her face fell into his neck, and his skin buried her in softness. She never wanted to be anywhere else. She didn’t want to leave him. She hadn’t been able to put her pain into words until this moment, but there it was. Her heart was breaking because she wouldn’t see him again. He was the thread that bound her to her last happy moments with Lena.
She didn’t even care that he was half-naked and they were all alone in an office in the American embassy in Rome. What the hell difference did it make? She’d put her life in his hands, and he’d put his in hers. She couldn’t just walk away from that. She had grown attached to this man, even if that attachment was born out of trauma.
He pushed her back. Tears poured down her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop gazing at him. She couldn’t bear to look anywhere else.
He wiped the tears off her face and caressed her cheeks. “Listen to me. You did great work out there tonight. You will spend the rest of your life in a lab, but I want you to know you were the best partner I’ve ever had. You’re one hell of an intelligence agent. Never forget that.”
She tried to smile but wound up grimacing in agony. She didn’t want to be an intelligence agent, not unless she could work with him.
The door opened. “The taxi is here for you.”
Luke looked over his shoulder, but he didn’t let go of Grace’s face. “Thanks. We’ll be right there.”
He turned back and his eyes softened, inspecting her at close range. “Let’s go, Grace.” He bent in and kissed her so softly she almost thought she imagined it.
Yet, as it lingered, it became more tangible. Everything blurred became clear reality. It was a real kiss full of unexpressed passion and possibility. His lips melted into hers, and he grasped her for a brief instant.
When he straightened up, his intent gaze told her the same thing. They were parting, probably forever, but the emotion was still there just below the surface. It swelled, trying to get out, but it never would, not completely. The circumstances made it impossible. And maybe once this traumatic situation was over, the feeling would fade.
The next second, he let go of her face, hopping on his good leg as he rotated around to pick up his shirt. He slipped it over his torso and buttoned it up.
Grace backed away to give him space. She frowned when he picked up a pair of clean pants and propped himself against the desk to put his legs into them. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to the airport with you. These embassy people wouldn’t waste a perfectly good taxi on you without economizing. It just means I’ll have to sit around watching the news at the airport bar until my flight, but you’ll be on your way across the Atlantic long before I leave.”
She stood there watching as he stuck his feet into his shoes and slipped into his shirt. It was almost as if he hadn’t been shot. Except for the fact that he didn’t put his full weight on his injured leg. Little details like that reminded her of the horror she was leaving behind.
He cracked a grin at her. “Let’s go.”
He limped at her side out of the room. She stuck close to him. She didn’t want to get separated from him again, not until necessary. She wanted to maintain the illusion she never had to leave him.
The Marine on duty stood next to a taxi waiting at the curb. They arrived at the embassy steps, and Luke hesitated.
Grace caught him, and he leaned on her, hopping down the steps to the street. She lowered him into the seat and got in next to him.
As the taxi whizzed away through the streets, the eastern sky started to lighten. Rome woke up all around her, but Grace felt like the shadow of someone she used to be. She wasn’t here. She hadn’t just spent the last twenty-four hours running for her life from some crazed gunman. Had she really smashed that car around Italian streets, getting shot at and having grenades thrown at her?
She could forget everything, but she couldn’t forget Luke. Every time she looked over at him, he was gazing at her with that beatific glow in his cheeks. He kept pressing her hand and glancing down at her mouth like he wanted to kiss her again. He didn’t though, and she couldn’t make herself cross the intractable inches to do it herself.
The car tilted one way and then the other. She didn’t bother paying attention to where they were going. She was too busy sorting everything out in her mind. Enjoying the last few moments with Luke.
What would she do once she got on the plane and he wasn’t there next to her anymore? She would move on, she promised herself. Take some time to heal and get some intense counseling. For now, she was content to be near him. He soothed her into an impenetrable state of calm, and she didn’t care if it was trauma bonding. Nothing could disturb her as long as he was next to her.
She would deal with the consequences of losing him when it happened. Until then, he was here. They were together. Nothing could ruffle her granite composure. No danger could throw her off her foundation of solidity.
The taxi stopped at a traffic light, and she faced forward. An old woman in a headscarf pushed a cart loaded with flowers across the intersection. Vendors were setting up on the corners. Shop owners swept their sidewalks. A few kids ran around. Life moved on.
The light changed, and as the taxi made its way into the intersection, Grace settled back in the seat and turned back toward Luke. At that moment, a shadow rushed the passenger side of the car beyond his window.
The next instant, their taxi plowed into another car. It caught the front corner, and the world exploded as the impact sent the taxi flying backward. She had seen it coming out of the corner of her eye, and while it seemed to happen in slow motion, it was so fast she didn’t have time to react, let alone say anything. A car had run the red light, and the force of the collision hurled Grace at Luke. She hit him full length, and the world went dark.
Chapter Seven
Grace pressed a square of gauze to her forehead. When she took it down and looked at it, blood stained the pristine white surface. She was back in the interrogation room and not at all happy about it.
“I feel like crap,” she grumbled. “And I’m exhausted, but I’m fine. I think I missed my flight though.”
He snorted under his breath. “Yes, you did. The embassy will get you a new ticket.”
She looked around the same room at the table and the mirror and everything. The translator with the glasses sat behind the table, shuffling papers. How did she ever land herself back here? “I never thought I’d see this place again.”
He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the door opened and the mustached carabiniere entered. He perched on the edge of the table, glanced down at a folder in his hand, and spoke in Italian. Standing behind his back, the translator repeated his words in English.
“You claimed you were taking her to the airport. Instead, you took her back to the shop where Ms. Boyd was killed, then I am told you are in a crash hours later.”
“I explained that,” Luke replied. “She recorded the killer on her phone. We were looking for the phone.”
“Then where is it?” The carabiniere spread his hands and pretended to look around the room. “Did you hand it over to the American government?”
“We couldn’t find it,” Grace chimed in. “It wasn’t at the shop, and it wasn’t at the building where I took the video. We don’t know where it is.”
“Where else could it be?” He turned his eyes on her. “Where else were you between the shop and when you noticed it gone?”
She and Luke glanced at each other. A charge of understanding passed between them. “The police car,” she said, “when you brought me here.”
The detective frowned. “Huh? What car?”
Grace took a deep breath. “The police car. The police car that transported me from the shop to here. It’s the only answer. It’s the only place I was between the shooting and when I discovered I didn’t have my phone. It must have fallen out when I was in the back of the police car.”
What She Didn't See Page 5
