Run To Rome

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 gaze and shrugged, her cheeks suddenly rosy red. He zipped the coveralls the rest of the way before stepping close with a relieved smile. She took a half-step back, her eyes wide.

He took hold of her face with both hands and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Finally…you did something right. We just might make it out of here.”

A frown creased her brow, accompanied by a look of chagrin. To forestall the expected argument, he took off his cap, put it on her head, and tugged it low over her face. Hopefully the coveralls and his two-day scruff would be enough to throw anyone off. And now that he knew they weren’t looking for him, too, his plan had a better chance of succeeding.

He took his jacket from her and draped it around her stiff-set shoulders. A nudge toward the door met with resistance, but he pushed harder. “Listen up, girlfriend Cara. You just found out you’re pregnant and came to tell me here at work. Your parents had forbidden us to see each other and your father hates me, so naturally, you’re crying at the thought of having to tell them. I’ll hug you close and escort you outside to my car, and we’re home free.”

Her blue eyes were full of apprehension. “You make it sound easy.”

“It will be. Just act like you’re devastated.”

He reached for the door. Her hand secured a vice grip on his.

“I don’t understand. How will anyone know what you just told me?”

Trent held back a growl of irritation, pulled free of her grip and swiped his damp palm along the side of his costume. A square shape in one of the pockets caught his attention. “It’s back story, baby, so you can act the part better.”

“Oh, right—back story. I forgot.”

He shook a cigarette from the pack of smokes he’d discovered and lit it with the accompanying lighter. “What do you mean, you forgot?”

“Nothing.”

Trent squinted through the smoke curling up between them, wondering about her sudden clipped tone. Her eyes had taken on a bleak, haunted look. He wanted to ask her about it, but they had to get their butts moving.

“You smoke?”

He frowned at her disapproving, wrinkled-up nose. Seriously? “My character does. And he’s just a tad bit stressed at the moment.”