The Red Light Girls (Unsolved Mysteries Book 2) by Kim Knight (most romantic novels TXT) 📗

destination to apply for had baffled her.

One night, she opened an atlas after one too many glasses of wine. She stuck her finger on the map, and it landed on Amsterdam. The decision was made. That’s where she’d try her luck with falling back in love with being a journalist.

Lucky for her, a Dutch newspaper was included in the list of media sources taking part in the exchange program.

Madeline walked around the car and bent down to the wheel. She ran her hand over the visible damage on the wet, rubber treads, then shook her head.

“Great, punctured.”

Pulling herself to a standing position, she glanced up and down the quiet road in search of help. There was no one around. After some time had passed, she gave up on anyone passing by that could help her. Instead, she dialled the number on the windscreen sticker for the car breakdown service.

“Hello, my name’s . . . Sorry, excuse me. Hallo, mijn naam is Madeline,” she said to the call handler. There was a silence.

“Hello, hello,” she yelled.

Madeline tutted at the blank screen. Her battery had died.

Well, that’s just great. She groaned loudly and shoved the device into in her pocket.

The bitter wind whipped around her, and the rain assaulted the thin material of her coat. She shivered and cursed even more.

Leaning on the side of the car, tears welled up in her eyes, then spilt over onto her cheeks.

A dog barked somewhere in the distance.

Her eyes darted toward the woodland area.

“Hey, hello. Is anyone there?” she called out into the darkness.

Her voice echoed back as it bounced around the open space.

Overcome with a sliver of sudden fear, she hurried away and jumped onto the driver’s seat. She locked the doors and prayed someone would pass by and help her. With the weather as bad as it was, she wasn’t optimistic about it.

Why would anyone be out on foot in this?

She could only hope a car would drive by, sooner than later.

The dog barked again, and her heart pounded against her rib cage.

She narrowed her eyes and could just about make out in the distance, a man jogging out of the woods with a dog behind him.

Madeline lowered the window a few inches, then called out through the rain, “Hey, excuse me.”

The dog barked again in her direction.

From what little she could see through the heavy rain and hail stones, it looked as if the man glanced toward her.

“Excuse me,” she yelled out again. “I have a flat tyre. Can you help me?”

What the hell? He probably speaks no English. God, help me.

Madeline stepped out of the car, then waved her arms to beckon the man to come over. Once she had his attention, she pointed to the wheel. Through the rain, Madeline noticed the man was now jogging in her direction. She let out a breath and counted her blessings he had appeared.

“Are you okay? What's up?” he asked.

He removed his earphones and doubled over to catch his breath.

Madeline's heart fluttered. She was happy he spoke English.

“My tyre’s flat,” she said. “And I don't have any juice on my phone. Can I borrow yours?”

Impatiently, she waited as the stranger moved his gaze over her car, then he pulled out his phone.

“Sure.” He handed her his mobile. “Do you have breakdown cover?”

“Yes, thank God. That's one thing I do have.”

Madeline took his iPhone in hand, then quickly, she redialled the breakdown service.

“Yes, hello. It's . . . Oh, I'm sorry,” she said then paused. Madeline tried to recall what Dutch she could given the situation.

“Here, allow me,” the man said. “I speak fluent Dutch.”

Madeline's attention moved back to the stranger. Through the rain from under his hood, he looked down at her, his face was partly obscured. He held his hand out for the phone, and she passed it to him.

He nodded toward the car, then said, “Get inside. It’s pouring out here.”

“Thank you, my name's Madeline Sloane. I just need someone to change the wheel, that's all.”

“Do you have a spare?”

“I don't know. I guess so, probably.”

The man laughed at her, then placed the phone to his ear under his hood. He spoke in rapid Dutch to the call handler. Madeline hopped into the car to shield herself from the storm, and the dog approached, yapping at her feet.

Damn dog, move.

She kicked at the mutt as she took a seat, then slammed the door.

A few minutes later, the man tapped on the window, so she rolled it down.

“Okay, let's take a look in the boot,” he said.

“The boot?”

“Yeah, for the spare.”

“When will they get here to—”

“Don't worry,” he cut her off, “I'll handle it. It's just a puncture.”

“Oh, okay. But it's raining.” Madeline looked up at the dark grey sky.

“It's just water. I'm Chris, by the way.” The man chuckled at her again.

Slightly pissed off at his sarcasm, Madeline pressed the release button to open the boot.

Yeah right, just water, she thought.

Then smoothed a hand over what had been her sleek, bone straight styled hair, which was now back to its natural curly state.

Thirty minutes later with a fresh tyre change, Madeline started the engine, then turned to Chris.

“I really don't know how to thank you,” she told him. “You could’ve allowed the breakdown service to handle it and been home by now. You are soaked.”

“No problem, you’d still be waiting if I did that.”

Shyly, Madeline looked away from Chris' gaze and focused on the road ahead. A few seconds later, she glanced back to him.

He stood in the rain with his hoodie covering his head, shivering.

“Let me give you a lift home. It's the least I can do,” she called out through the window.

She watched Chris' expression. It was as if he mulled over her offer while he glanced up and down the road.

“Okay, thanks. Which way are you heading?” he asked.

“To Amsterdam Centraal, what about you?"

“Same.”

“Hop in. Let's go.”

Chris rounded the car to the passenger side and opened the door. He moved the chair back, then whistled for his dog