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to jump in.

“I'm sorry if he leaves mud on the seat,” he said. “I’ll clean it off.”

Madeline cringed at the thought of dog hair and mud all over the seat, then forced a lazy smile across her lips.

Once Chris and his dog were on board, she placed the car in gear and slowly took off. She navigated her way through the storm toward the city centre.

Along the way, he gave her directions. She had to stop occasionally and wait until she could see the road again. Almost an hour had passed.

“Here we go,” he said. “I'll jump out here.”

The journey had been longer than expected because the weather had caused Madeline to drive cautiously. She pulled over into a free space just past the tramline.

“Thanks for your help today, Chris.”

“No problem.”

Chris faced her head on. For the first time, Madeline noticed just how handsome he was.

His hair was slightly damp and had turned jet black. The ends curled up from the rain. It contrasted against his piercing blue, deep-set eyes, and a dark shadow of stubble ran across his chin.

There was an awkward silence between them.

“I better get going.” Chris broke the ice first. “It was nice to meet you.” He opened the door and got out of the car.

Madeline bit back the urge to ask more about him. Her eyes didn’t move from his well-built physique, emphasised by his Nike track suit that still clung to his body.

What's the point in getting to know him? He probably has a girlfriend.

She removed the thought from her mind as quickly as it had come. Instead, she watched him throw his hoodie up, and move the seat, so his dog could climb out the back.

A quick inspection of the seat, set off a sense of relief.

Thank goodness, there’s no mud.

“Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Madeline.”

“You too, thanks again.”

Chris closed the door and jogged across the road, his dog trotted behind him.

Madeline followed them with her gaze until they disappeared from sight. She then put the car into gear and headed home.

Once she arrived home to her flat, Madeline opened the blinds to allow the view of Amsterdam’s night sky to flood in. She stood by the view of the city, and finally she allowed herself to relax after this afternoon's drama.

The sky was lit up with lights as far back as she could see across the dusk skyline. A view so different to what she was used to seeing back in London. The memories brought on a flood of tears.

She snapped her eyes shut, as if to block out the vivid details of her home. Her escape to Amsterdam had brought her to a new place in life, emotionally, and a new job. In some ways, it all allowed her to rebuild her life. That said, her first three months hadn’t been easy. Her Dutch was not perfect even with lessons paid for by work. And her social circle was almost non-existent.

Moving from the window she turned to face the living room. The small one-bedroom flat, located on the top floor of a three-storey building, needed a lot of work.

Most definitely, the plumbing for one, she thought.

The kitchen tap leaked, the water pressure from the shower was low, but it was home. And all she could afford on her modest salary.

Glancing around it felt as if the walls were closing in on her. Her ex’s—Satan's voice, started to mock her in her mind's eye. Hugging her arms around her body, Madeline paced the cool tiled floor. The urge to take a shower and wash away the memories of him overwhelmed her.

One bad break-up. We all have them! Get a grip Maddie, she scolded herself on the way to the bathroom.

Madeline stripped naked and ran the water. The pipes jumped to life and coughed out a trickle of water.

She rolled her eyes. “I need a plumber. This is ridiculous.”

The water dripped slowly from the limescale invested shower head. As the temperature rose, steam fanned around the bathroom. This caused Madeline's claustrophobic anxiety to increase tenfold.

In the mirror, she took in the woman she had become. At five-foot-five, with a slim, but curvy build, and milk chocolate skin. To an outsider, it would seem she had the world at her feet and was stress free. Truth be told, she felt anything but this.

Her heart was broken. And her career no longer excited her. With a deep breath, she tied her curly hair up on top of her head, then, with a heavy heart, she pulled back the mouldy shower curtain and stepped under the water.

2

One Woman Down

Detective Janssen

Across Amsterdam That Evening…

“Janssen, you in position?” the voice spoke into her left ear.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Detective Janssen moved her gaze over the canal.

The water was still, and the multicoloured boats were stationed on the river. Next to the bank, muddy water appeared to be pitch black now that the sun had long departed, and the moon shone over the city. As Janssen stood by the lamp post along the canal, the trees that lined Amsterdam’s pebbled street rustled in the wind.

Flipping the collar of her coat to shield herself from the bitter weather, she discreetly tapped her ear to turn up the volume and drown out the partygoers around her. She listened in via her earpiece as her team went over the strategy she had given them. Silently, she nodded to herself in agreement.

Good. They’re clear on how things would play out tonight.

She shifted her gaze up and down the street and took in the busy footfall of tourists and locals. They weaved in and out of view as she looked for the suspect. It was cold, damp, and she hated going undercover in the seedy area of the city. But it was necessary for the case she was closing in on.

She moved the synthetic hair of the wig across her cheek. “Yeah, I’m over by the canal. Everyone get into position,” she demanded.

“Yes ma’am,” her team of men chimed in in unison.

As much

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