Run To Rome

“What are you doing?” she asked in a neutral tone.

He rummaged through the box with increasing determination. “I’m going to make a copy of your video. I thought for sure Sean’s stuff would have what I need.” Muttered swear words indicated he’d thought wrong.

She wasn’t so sure she wanted the answer to her next question, but asked anyway. “Did you watch it yet?”

“Yes.”

“Did it…um…have what you wanted?”

“What I wanted? No. What I need to help put these guys away? Yes.”

Meaning she had filmed a murder. Halli swallowed hard and moved closer to the couch. Closer to him. The entire day had had a surreal feeling about it—still did, in fact—but knowing he’d watched the murder on her film triggered an instinctive need for security in the form of human contact.

Trent abruptly switched gears and began piling cameras back into the box. When the sound of breaking glass accompanied the next piece of equipment, she reached forward to lay her hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

The solid reassurance of his warm skin beneath her fingertips ignited a longing to have his strong arms wrap around her and promise everything would be okay.

He stilled, his gaze dropping to her hand. Her heart beat faster as she imagined him turning those intense hazel eyes her way.

His forearm muscles tightened and bunched just before he jerked away. “I don’t need or want your sympathy, sweetheart.”

The rejection stung, along with the meaningless endearment. But it was just what she needed to wipe away the strange desire to lean on his strength and comfort him.

To combat a rising, cold loneliness, she clenched her fists at her sides and said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’m still hungry,” he snapped.

As if she would serve him. “Then how about I copy the video while you go eat.”

He tossed the last camera into the box and gave her a skeptical look.

“Back in Wisconsin, I’m a television producer for PBS. I think I can figure it out.”

His glance touched on the box in front of him, shifted toward a mirror on the wall across from the couch, and returned to her. “I assume you know where everything is from your private whirlwind tour earlier?”

“Yep.” She refused to feel guilty.

“Great. Have at it.” He strode toward the kitchen, only to take an abrupt detour to the stairs. Over his shoulder, he added, “I’m gonna take a shower first. Your camera’s on the kitchen counter.”

Halli stalked into the kitchen, only to freeze at the sight of the camera. What had possessed her to offer to make the copy? She didn’t even want to touch the thing anymore, let alone see what she’d filmed.

I’ve gotten this far through the day without falling apart… surely I can do this one thing more?

Deep breath. One foot in front of the other.

She grabbed the camera and returned to the cabinets in the living room that housed Trent’s home theater system. She hadn’t really thought about it before, but looking at the mirror above, she realized it was one of those ultra cool, ultra expensive mirror TV’s. Of course he’d have one, and with the vintage looking frame, it fit in perfectly with the villa’s décor.

“Get the copy made and then you can admire his house all you want.”

A quick check of his system confirmed she’d be able to play the video from her camera and record on his DVR. All she needed now was one of the blank DVDs from the spindle stack in his cabinet, and the cable to connect her camera to his DVR.

Which was back in the little blue rental car with Ben and Rachel.

She checked the box of camera equipment Trent had left on the couch, then reluctantly made her way to the bedroom his brother had stayed in. If Trent was right, the same people who’d killed his brother were the ones who were after her.

Halli fortified herself and pushed open the door. Again, the pungent odor of the room’s facelift assaulted her nostrils. If she had a hard time coming in here, it must’ve been ten times worse for Trent. She couldn’t imagine losing Ben or Rachel forever.