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

with the waitress at Erotica club, and the discussion she overheard in the bathroom, confirmed that Suzy had met someone one there.

Something doesn’t seem right. She refreshed her browser window to see if she had any messages. Nothing yet. The police are moving way too slow.

The first girl was reported missing over eight months ago, the culprit was still on the loose.

I gotta speed things up.

31

Honey Trap

Madeline Sloane

Monday evening…

What a day!

Relaxing in the bath, candles all around her and a glass of wine in hand, was just what Madeline needed.

Memories of this morning flooded her mind. She was full of nerves, which had made her commute to work overly stressful. Constantly looking over her shoulder, she had half-expected someone to jump out and attack her.

“Chris,” his name passed her lips in a soft whisper. Even now, the thought sent a shiver up her spine, and goose bumps erupted the length of her arms and legs.

She ran through the events of the prior week in her mind. The last email threat she had received was on Sunday morning—yesterday.

Her boss Fleur was aware of the police monitoring her inbox, and supported the process fully, but none of the rest of her team knew. No one had any clue who the mystery email sender was—not Janssen, Gibson, or Fleur. It didn’t help that the IP address had been blocked.

Damn you Chris. She sunk deeper in the tub, allowing the water to warm her shoulder. Damn you!

Janssen hasn’t been in contact all day, and neither had Chris. Her mind moved back to her life in London, and the heart ache she had left behind.

It was a bitter break up, one that involved cheating also.

Chris, she drew in a deep breath. I thought you were different.

A single tear fell down her cheek, leaving a trail to her chin, then cascaded onto her neck.

The pain still felt raw. Madeline sunk lower into the water, then took an awkward sip of her wine.

I’ve got to be more careful with these men, and my heart. She made up her mind—no more dates—that was for the best, at least, for now.

The Red Light Girls and their cases had offered her some distraction from London, the heartache, and now the sting from Chris’ behaviour, which she really didn’t need.

A new wave of confidence lifted her spirits. Rising out of the water, she blew bubbles off her skin.

I got a job to do. She drained the remaining wine from her glass. Helping the detectives close in on whoever’s responsible for those poor girls’ deaths. That’s the focus. She thought to herself.

Madeline placed the glass down, got out of the bathtub, hit the lever to drain the water, and then dried off with a towel.

Blowing the candles out, she left the steamy bathroom and headed into the bedroom. Her phone flashed with a notification. It was an email from the website.

Hi Frankie,

This is Noah. I came across your profile. You sound really nice.

Tell me a bit more about yourself. What do you do for a living?

Madeline’s heart raced, and she re-read the email again. The email she had received from Lucy came to mind. The one letting her know that the man who contacted her preferred Red Light Girls.

What did she say his name was? She thought a moment.

“Noah,” she whispered. I’m sure of it.

Madeline tapped out a response.

Hi Noah,

I’m a working girl. Please don’t judge me.

What about you?

Madeline put the phone down and chewed on her lip. She wasn’t sure what her next move should be, especially if he responded.

She got dressed for bed, then climbed under the covers with her laptop for more research.

Pulling up a Google browser, she typed in Chris’ full name. Nothing came up but his social media accounts and his LinkedIn professional page. So, she scanned his recent shares online and on Facebook. Nothing stood out of the ordinary.

Hmmm, whatever!

Madeline flicked the television from the Dutch gameshow to the evening news.

Reading the information scrolling on the bottom of the report, her mouth fell.

No. No. No. She pulled the covers tighter around her. Not again.

A recent news update showcased another murder victim, Lucy Hanssen—the lady who had failed to respond to Madeline’s email asking about the man from the website Lucy had a date with. Her mother had reported her missing.

“Fuck,” Madeline screamed. “This can’t be happening.”

Her phone beeped with an email alert from Noah. She pulled her eyes from the television screen and read.

I’d never judge you, Frankie.

How about we both meet for dinner and get to know each other better?

Are you free this week?

Madeline started to perspire, and a cold sweat coated her body. Her breathing became shallow, and her heartbeat roared in her ears. For a moment, she hesitated to respond, then glanced over at the screen.

This is for all of you—for all the girls. She typed out a response.

Sure, I’d love to.

How about tomorrow night? I have the night off.

She pressed send, reached for the bottle of wine, poured another glass, and then tried to steady her erratic breathing.

32

In the Clear?

Chris Visser

Chris opened up his laptop and inspected it for damage.

The police had released it to him quickly after they verified his online activity—his alibi for being at home, and nowhere near Dam Square, the Red Light District, or any other female over the last week.

His heart was heavy over the loss of Madeline’s friendship, and the thought of him being placed as a suspect haunted him.

How could I be so stupid! Madeline is worth more than this.

He picked up his phone and pulled up her text messages and re-read them. Then, scrolled to her name in his contacts.

Forget it, she’ll never talk to you again. He placed the phone down.

Thoughts of the police interview swirled in his head. In his statement to the police, he was honest—even came clean about taking Madeline out while still dating Stacey.

Well, not really dating. His finger hovered over the call button, then