A Proposal to Remember

‘Are you in the kitchen?’

She stepped further into the flat, noticing that the Christmas tree was back upright and the whole flat looked completely undisturbed.

She smiled slightly. Everything looked fine. Just like home.

And she didn’t feel strange.

She felt safe.

And then she heard the door slam behind her and knew that she wasn’t safe at all.

* * *

Carlo sprinted out of the hospital straight into the car that Matt had waiting. Journalists swarmed towards them but Matt slammed his foot on the accelerator and they scattered nervously.

‘She’s at the flat.’ Carlo’s voice was ragged and he flexed his fingers, preparing for a fight.

Matt kept his eyes on the road. ‘I lost her. She didn’t go where I expected her to. Fire me.’

‘It isn’t your fault. This whole situation has been too damned complicated.’ Carlo shifted in his seat, anxious to arrive. ‘Can’t you go any faster?’

Within minutes they shrieked to a halt outside the flats and Carlo was out of the car.

They took the stairs at a run and paused outside the flat to draw breath.

The door to Zan’s flat was shut and Carlo flung himself at it, intending to break it down.

‘Hold on.’ Matt grabbed him before his shoulder made contact and shoved him to one side, reaching into his pocket for a small implement. ‘We replaced it with a solid wood door, remember? You’ll put your shoulder out. I’ve got a better way.’

He did something to the lock and within seconds the door swung open.

Carlo stared at him. ‘How did you…?’

Matt gave a sheepish grin. ‘It’s what you pay me for.’

Carlo strode into the flat and stopped dead.

One man lay groaning on the floor. The other had an arm around Zan’s neck and a knife at her throat.

She looked at him with relief in her eyes. ‘What took you so long?’ Her voice was croaky. ‘I’ve used all my moves except the kissing one.’

‘Shut up.’ The man jerked his arm and Zan gave a cry of pain.

Matt growled angrily and took a step forward, but Carlo held up a hand to stop him. ‘No.’ He looked at the man, his gaze steady. ‘Drop the knife. Now.’

The man replied in Italian. ‘I’m going to kill her, Santini. You’re about to find out how it feels to lose someone you love.’

‘I know that you’re hurting,’ Carlo said, trying to keep his voice steady, ‘and I’m sorry about your baby. But this isn’t going to help. Let her go.’

‘You should have saved her.’ The man’s voice was hoarse and his arm tightened around Zan’s throat. ‘You should have saved my little girl.’

‘I’m flattered by your faith in me,’ Carlo said, taking a step forward, ‘but no one could have saved your child. It’s not always possible to find a reason for a stillborn child. Let her go and we can talk about it.’

‘Don’t come any closer!’ The man’s eyes were wild and Carlo paused, choosing his words carefully.

‘Where’s your wife, Signor Agnelli?’

The man breathed heavily. ‘At home with her mother.’