What She Didn't See Page 2

  Lena’s eyes stared straight up at nothing. Blood stained the whole front of her shirt. Ragged holes bubbled as blood trickled onto the sidewalk.

  Grace raised her hand, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch her friend’s face.

  The sirens pierced her heart, and agonizing pain tore at her middle and spread throughout her entire body. “Lena?” she whispered, hoping this was not real.

  Grace couldn’t think of what to do next. Her mind could not process that this had happened. This couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be dead. They still had Sicily to get through. Lena would never miss out on that. She wouldn’t allow this to happen to her.

  Grace touched Lena’s cheek gently, gazing at her tranquil expression. She got both hands under her friend’s neck and picked up her head. “Come on, Lena. Let’s go home.” No answer. “Come on, Lena, you have to get up.” Grace was in shock, refusing to believe this was real. “Just get up!” she cried, knowing Lena was not going to do so.

  Lena seemed to weigh a ton, but Grace hefted her off the ground, trying to see through the tears streaming down her face. She tried to force her friend to stand, but Lena didn’t cooperate at all. Her body just flopped. Grace shook her by the shoulders. “Come on, Lena! Come on! Get up! Get up! I can’t do this alone. I promise we’ll do anything you want!”

  Nothing worked. Lena didn’t respond. Grace’s fingers slipped on the blood that covered her friend’s arm, and Lena almost slid out of her grasp. Grace couldn’t allow that to happen. It felt to her that if Lena fell now, she’d lose her for good.

  The sirens inched closer. They would be here in seconds. Grace looked behind her and almost lost control of her bladder. There stood the blond man, aiming his gun at her. His cold, clear eyes didn’t waver from her face. His knuckles whitened on the weapon’s grip.

  Lena’s body grew even heavier in Grace’s arms, but she couldn’t let go of her friend. This was her one last chance to save her, she thought, shock refusing to let her brain process that Lena was dead. Grace would never let that happen. She kneeled there, out in the open on the sidewalk, staring at death standing over her. Ready to live or die with her best friend.

  Out of nowhere, a blur of darkness streaked across her line of sight. Something hit the gunman with enough force to knock him down. A dark-haired man had bolted out of the fabric of space and flattened the gunman in a split second. The gun flew out of his hands, and a slow recognition warmed Grace’s brain. It was Luke, one of the guys they’d met last night.

  The two men somersaulted over the cobblestones into the street. At first, the blond man gained the upper hand. Then Luke rose and slammed him to the ground. She couldn’t follow their movements well enough to tell how this would end.

  Far too late, what seemed like every carabinieri in Italy was speeding toward her. The gunman braced his legs, launched to his feet, and fled as the Hummers and police cars skidded to a stop in front of them and took aim. The carabinieri yelled in Italian for them to put their hands up. For the second time in just a few minutes’ time, Grace was staring down the barrel of a gun.

  Chapter Two

  Grace stared down at her hands in her lap. One palm rubbed against the other, trying to wipe off Lena’s blood. It had darkened her jeans, and a crust of dark red outlined her fingernails. Lena’s blood. Lena’s life force. Lena is dead, she told herself over and over. She still couldn’t believe it. Her mind reeled back to memories of recitals, getting their ears pierced, and sneaking to dye their hair. Lena had always been the courageous one. How would Grace navigate life without her best friend there to lean on?

  Lena’s haunting, blank stare of death was burned into Grace’s brain. She would never forget it. The one souvenir from this trip that she could never lose.

  Just a few hours ago, she had been counting down the days until she could go home and get back to her own life. She had been contemplating leaving Lena behind, totally fine with the idea that Lena might live in Rome without her. Never fully comprehending what it’d be like to live life without her best friend by her side.

  Now she knew she couldn’t leave Italy. A piece of her had died with Lena, and a piece of Lena would remain forever trapped in the cobblestones. As soon as the carabinieri finished questioning her, she would finally be able to get on a plane and fly home to Florida, but now she didn’t want to go. She wanted to go back to that street and get Lena. She didn’t want to leave Rome without her best friend.

  What would she do once she got home? How could she go back to Clearwater after this? How could she go on with her life without Lena in it? She wouldn’t be able to walk down the street without something reminding her of her friend. The two hadn’t been out of each other’s presence for more than twenty-four hours since they were seven years old.

  After they brought Grace to the questura, the Italian version of a police station, she spent hours and hours answering questions. Remaining in this room was maddening. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She didn’t want to think anymore. She didn’t want to be in this nightmare anymore. She wanted to shower and wash all the blood off her, even though its stain would be permanent. A door opened, but she didn’t look up.

  The door shut. Footsteps crossed the room and stopped a few feet away from the table. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. It was the mustached detective. The young translator with the glasses would be with him. They would rehash the shooting again and again. Christ only knew how many more times they would go over it before they let her leave. But this time, a second set of footsteps didn’t follow him. It was just the two of them. Just them and the horror that had happened.

  Grace scratched her fingernails across her palm. It hurt, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I already told you everything I know. I don’t know who that guy was, and I don’t know why he shot at us. How many times do I have to tell you before you believe me?”

  “I believe you.”

  Those words pierced her gut. Her head shot up, and shock stole her response. It wasn’t the translator at all. It was Luke. He was the one who had stopped that bastard from killing her the way he’d killed Lena.

  Grace sprang from her seat and hugged him. When she finally let go, he sat on the edge of the table, smiled down at her. His hair drifted in soft, dark whisps around a chiseled, angular face. His deep brown eyes shone with understanding.

  He wore a clean beige business shirt, jeans with a brown leather belt around his trim waist, and a scuffed pair of gray hiking shoes. His muscular hand curled casually around the edge of the table.

  “I believe you, Grace. I know you didn’t know the killer.”

  She blinked up at him as buried confusion rose to the surface. “You! You … you attacked that guy. You … How did you …?” She couldn’t finish. “Who are you?”

  He shoved himself off the table and straightened up in front of her. “I’m Luke Barnes. I’m here on vacation, but I’m in law enforcement at home. I work for the Secret Service.

  “The Secret Service?” Her brain flew into a tailspin. “But you’re American. We’re in Italy.”

  He cracked a grin and dipped his eyelashes invitingly. “You’re right, and I have to tell you, you ruined my vacation.”

  Perhaps he was trying to make her smile. She resented him for it. She’d never smile again. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He sank back onto the table and swiveled to drape one knee over its corner. “I was in the square when the first shot rang out. I looked up and saw the sun reflecting off something shiny. You and Lena were on the balcony, but neither of you were looking anywhere near the congressman.”

  She glanced down at her hands. She didn’t want to remember. If she thought about the first shooting, then …

  “You were looking down into the alley, and you had your phone in front of you.”

  “I was recording some kids playing around on the ground,” she said. Talking about that was easier. Simpler. “I didn’t record the congressman getting … You know …”<
br />
  “Well, that doesn’t matter because there are about fifty cameras in that square. I’m sure they got it. But I think you caught something on your phone. Something no one else was paying attention to. The shooter was on another balcony of the same building. He was just beyond the women you were recording. I think that’s why he came after you. He wanted your phone so he could destroy the evidence that he was the one who shot the congressman.”

  Her hand flew to her pocket. The minute she touched it, her stomach dropped. The pocket was empty. She slapped her side, but nothing would make the phone appear where it wasn’t. She and Lena had been targeted for nothing.

  He raised his eyebrows. “What’s the matter?”

  “My phone … it’s gone. I put it in my back pocket, and then …”

  The placid smile evaporated from his face, and his mouth hardened. His eyes glittered. “Are you sure?”

  “I put it right here!” She launched out of her chair, groped her pocket again and again, but it was just as empty. “I swear it! Believe me, this whole thing is crazy. I wouldn’t try to hide it. I want no part in any of this!”

  “Do you have a tracker? Like Find My iPhone?”

  “No.” Grace hung her head, feeling foolish. “I turned it off so my parents would quit following my every move.”

  He straightened up again, but he didn’t smile. His voice dropped a register. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  He banged out of the room a lot faster than he’d entered, leaving her floundering in turmoil. Just when she thought someone believed in her innocence, he was now looking at her like she was a suspect.

  She looked all around her in case the phone had fallen out of her pocket. A large mirror covered one wall, but besides that and the table and four chairs, the room was empty. She rubbed her hands over her shoulders, trying to warm herself, but it didn’t help. She couldn’t calm down.

  What was Luke doing out there? What would the carabinieri do to her? They couldn’t think she was hiding something. Or worse, that she’d destroyed her own phone to help the man who shot the congressman. They couldn’t. Lena was dead. That was proof enough that neither of the women were involved. They must realize she was an innocent bystander in this.

  The door burst open and startled her, making her flinch. Luke stormed in, glaring at her. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

  She wanted to shrink from him, but he held out his hand to beckon her forward. “Where are we going?”

  “They don’t know about your phone,” he said in a low, frightening tone. “I told them I would take you to the airport and get you out of Italy. Which I will do as soon as we find your phone. I also said you would feel more comfortable with an American officer, so they’re letting me escort you.

  “Just sign the forms they give you. Then we’ll retrace your steps and find your phone. As soon as we find it, I’ll take you to the airport and put you on a plane back to America where you’ll be safe.”

  He steered her through the door and over to the front desk where he babbled to the desk officer in Italian. For the first time since she’d left home, Grace kicked herself for not learning a foreign language.

  The officer behind the desk didn’t look at Grace. She shoved a clipboard to her, and Grace signed where Luke pointed. Then the officer resumed the tapping at her computer. Luke touched Grace’s arm. “Come on.”

  He escorted her through the station and out to an underground parking garage, stopping at a tiny car with a car-share logo on the door, the kind you can just get in and go as long as you have the app. He entered the code, retrieved the keys, pried back the passenger door, and held it while she slipped into the seat.

  They emerged into the streets of Rome, where a few people strolled on the sidewalks and lights shone in all the buildings. The city bustled as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened today, but it all looked different now to Grace. Truly a foreign world. She watched the scenery pass beyond the car window and felt out of touch with every living thing.

  Luke’s voice drew her attention back to the business at hand. “Are you certain you had your phone at the gelato place where Lena was shot?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I always have it, except … Well, I guess not. I put it in my pocket, and I assumed it was there. But I never thought about it again once everything went crazy.”

  “We’ll go back to where you got the gelato and see if it’s there. I want to warn you though, it’s a crime scene, and it’s not going to be pretty.” He glanced over at her. “If you don’t mind.”

  Grace wasn’t overly fond of traveling because she didn’t like leaving her comfort zone. She would never seek out this kind of horrible adventure on her own. Following Lena around made her feel safer. But Lena had given her life to save her. Grace didn’t want to see any of this again, but what choice did she have?

  “I don’t care. If it gets that guy caught, I’ll go back.”

  He nodded. “Good. That’s the best thing you can do for Lena and for yourself. And you’ll be safe. The place should be crawling with law enforcement from both countries. He wouldn’t dare show himself there again.”

  She looked over at him. The dashboard lit up his features, giving him a haunted appearance. Something to focus on besides the horror at hand.

  “So Secret Service, huh? Were you here with the congressman? How did you wind up in the Secret Service?”

  He looked taken aback. Like this wasn’t the time for such questions. But Luke knew about trauma and how it affected people. About the need for distractions. He shrugged. “Not here with the congressman. I told you I’m on vacation,” he said. “I was a special agent in the CID while I was in the Army, and it was a natural progression from there. Taking the job was just the next logical step in my career. It just sort of worked out that way, I guess.”

  She cocked her head to study him. He didn’t look like the hometown boy from middle America she’d thought he was last night. “What happened to Gabe? He was supposed to be with you today.”

  “He lives here. We served in the Army together. When everything went down with the congressman, he flew into action and went straight to work. And I ran straight to you.”

  “What’s CID?”

  “The Criminal Investigation Command. They call it CID because it was originally the Criminal Investigative Division. It’s the military equivalent of the FBI and CIA.”

  She faced front again. Looked out the window. “Wow. I never thought much about all that intelligence stuff. Never thought I’d be wrapped up in it like this. Lena would be fascinated. She loved intrigue and was a sucker for the true-crime dramas.”

  She was quiet, and Luke noticed tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Her hands twisted about themselves. Her breathing grew heavier.

  “How about you?” he asked to keep her mind in the present while they looked for her phone. “You’re from Clearwater, Florida, aren’t you? What do you do there?”

  “Like I said last night, I just graduated from college. I got my degree in clinical lab sciences. The plan was to backpack across Italy for the summer—” Her voice caught. He swore she was going to break down right then and there. Right in his car. She caught herself. “I was going back home to work in a lab, processing boring medical samples for the local hospital. That’s as exciting as it gets in my world.”

  “Clinical lab sciences, huh? We have a lot of pathologists, microbiologists, and lab techs working in our industry. You could go into intelligence, too, if you wanted.”

  She returned to watching the lights and darkened windows whispering past the car. “I don’t think so. After today, I think I prefer boring.”

  “I don’t blame you.” He kicked the parking brake into place before he could lose her. “Let’s park here and walk in. The sooner we find that phone, the sooner you can get back to boring.”

  Chapter Three

  Grace studied the gelato place across the street. White tape labeled Policia stretched across what used to be the d
oor frame. A few jagged icicles of broken glass dangled from the shattered edge of the window. Shelves inside leaned against each other for support. Bags of chips and candy wrappers lay scattered all over the floor.

  The shop didn’t look like the same place Grace had entered just a few hours ago. It didn’t look like the nightmare in her memory. It looked like the set of a movie. Not even the bloodstain where Lena had fallen could make it real. In fact, it added to the otherworldliness. Grace thought if she could just wake up, she might be able to find Lena again.

  Luke touched her arm, forcing her back to reality. “Come on. Let’s look around. It’s probably here somewhere. Could it have fallen out of your pocket anywhere else?”

  He called her out of her ruminations and inspired her to think. Her mind cleared. “No, it wouldn’t have. We walked from the apartment to here. I wasn’t jumping around or bending over until the guy started shooting at us. It wouldn’t have fallen out anywhere else.”

  He set off across the street, and she followed, not wanting to be alone in this city of death. Her heel crunched in glass fragments. He held up the tape that designated this a crime scene, and she ducked under it. It was all pretend. She saw herself doing everything, looking like an actor on a cop show.

  The car riddled with bullet holes belonged to the movie too. The prop crew had put that tire there for her to cower behind for safety from the gunfire. She peered down at the space where she’d taken shelter from the danger, the place where Lena had pushed her to protect her when the shooting started.

  She gulped down the lump in her throat. The last thing Lena did in this life was save her. She didn’t save herself. She was too thoughtful for that. While Grace was thinking about dragging Lena back home to start their lives as adults, Lena was saving her from that … that …