The Red Light Girls (Unsolved Mysteries Book 2) Kim Knight (best romance novels of all time txt) 📖

Oh, the note!

He pulled out his notepad and scribbled a quick message to let Madeline know he had stopped by to inspect the work carried out, but she wasn’t home yet. He doubled back to the living room then laid it on the table.

Hmm. Maybe not. She’ll know I entered.

Quickly, he snatched it up, and as he did, he peeked into her kitchen area. Scanning the shelves, he noticed her brand of tea and coffee. He picked up the tea and inspected it. Next, he did the same with the coffee.

His eyes moved over every inch of the kitchen as he imagined the young beauty cooking. When his daydream came to an end, his mind came back to reality.

I’m in a tenant’s apartment unannounced.

He had broken the law, but not with any malice behind his actions. Quickly, he made his way back to the door, stepped out, then locked it just as he had found it. Bending over, he flinched with back pain, and slid the note underneath the base of the door.

As he drew himself up to full height, he dug into his pocket and fingered Madeline’s bra.

The lace intertwined around his thick fingers, and he relished the feeling. He contemplated whether he should put it back, and as he was about to unlock the door, he heard the main door unlock below him sound off. He fumbled with his key and made his way down the stairs innocently, just in case it was Madeline.

“Hi, Mr. Fitz,” Andre, the tenant who lived below Madeline, called out.

His heart skipped a beat. Relief rushed through his veins that it wasn’t Madeline who almost caught him snooping.

“‘Ello,” he responded. “Is everything okay with your flat?” he asked. “Your neighbour above had a leak.”

Mr. Fitz watched a puzzled expression spread across Andre’s face. “I never noticed anything. But I left pretty early this morning though,” Andre called over his shoulder while unlocking his door. He turned back to Mr. Fitz and said, “If there’s any damage, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, sure.” Mr. Fitz squeezed past Andre and made his way to the exterior door.

Once outside, he looked up and down the road. There was no sign of Madeline, so he got into this car and started the engine.

He made his way back to his own home, way on the other side of Amsterdam Centraal.

Mr. Fitz liked the city, and its vibrant atmosphere. For the most part, he also enjoyed his job as a facilities and property manager. It kept him busy, and he met a lot of new people who rented properties around Amsterdam.

As he stopped at a traffic light, his phone buzzed. He reached into his pocket and pulled over into a safe space, in case it was Madeline. A message from Olga flashed on the screen.

—Hey, we still on for dinner tonight?

—Let me know.

“Oh, shit,” he said out loud. He had forgotten he planned to have dinner with Olga this evening.

The two had been friends for a while. They had connected via an online dating site. She was closer to his age, lonely, and worked as a PA for a doctor in the centre of the city.

Olga had moved to Amsterdam from Sweden many years ago, when she thought she had found the love of her life. The woman had married young, bared no children, but the marriage broke down shortly after they had exchanged vows. She never returned to Sweden, she preferred the diversity of Amsterdam to her native home, which was mainly white, straight, and middle-classed in the city she had come from.

He texted back a response.

—Yes, of course.

—Sorry, I’m running a little late.

—I made the reservation under my name.

—Will meet you at the restaurant.

His phone beeped with an instant reply.

—Great, no problem.

—See you then.

Mr. Fitz pocketed his phone and placed the car into gear. He sped off toward his home to get ready for his date. A streak of happiness filled him. Tonight, he’d have some female company. But he remained disappointed he never got to see the lovely beauty he had his eye on.

Maybe one day, she’ll have dinner with me, he thought to himself, then glanced at his reflection in his rear-view mirror.

He ran a hand through his brown hair and made a note to get a haircut in the morning. His right eye started to blink rapidly, so he flicked his gaze away from the mirror.

No matter how hard he tried, he could never get it to stop. The facial tic had caused him much teasing as a child. And he hated it.

7

The Bachelor

Chris Visser

Chris pulled up outside his flat later than usual. After leaving Madeline that morning, he received a number of emergency call outs. The chilly weather had been playing havoc on the heating and water systems around the city.

He cut the engine of his van, climbed out, then rubbed his hands together for warmth.

I hope she has a decent shower tonight, and the carpet has dried out, he thought to himself.

Opening up the boot, he unloaded his tools. After suffering a break-in a few months ago, be vowed never to leave his expensive equipment outside overnight.

Usually, Amsterdam was a safe city. But some opportunist took advantage of his native-trusting act to innocently leave the tools on display.

He slammed the door shut. The audible click from his key fob confirmed the door had locked behind him. Slowly, he made his way up the steps toward the Victorian house conversion where he had rented the middle flat for the past three years.

Once inside, he placed the tools down, headed to the kitchen, flicked on the central heating and kettle, then shrugged out of his heavy work coat.

His eyes cast over his surroundings, and he smiled. It still felt like heaven to arrive back home to his own space.

Once upon a time, he had lived with flatmates. But it got a little overcrowded for him and left him longing for his own space and privacy.

He headed out the kitchen