“Pretty sure. They were fighting again. But I don’t think Ryan’s forcing Evie to come with him.”
Nick blew out a breath. “Okay then.”
“They’ve got more than an hour head start on us.”
“That’s okay,” Nick said. “Once they get to Amsterdam, they’re going to need cash. Hopefully, they use a credit card. And if they do, we’ll be the first to know.”
“Your friend is still tracking that?”
Nick nodded. “Yes. They made a withdrawal large enough for the tickets at an ATM somewhere in the station, right before that bullet train left.”
Paige clutched the straps of her backpacks, her palms clammy with nerves. “We’re on the right track, then.”
“I think so. Let’s get back in line. Looks like we really are going to Amsterdam.”
Nick couldn’t stop his foot from bouncing as the French countryside raced past the train window. Three hours, and he’d be back in Amsterdam.
Well, you did plan on coming here in another three days, he reminded himself. But he hadn’t planned on spending his time searching for missing teens, and he hadn’t planned on having Paige with him.
“Why Amsterdam?” Paige asked aloud.
“What do you mean?” Nick asked.
“I mean, what made them pick that city over any other? I never heard either of them mention a connection to the Netherlands, or Dutch, or anything that wasn’t American.”
“There’s quite the party scene in Amsterdam.”
But Paige was already shaking her head. “You said that before, but it doesn’t fit. Evie is fascinated by history, like me. And if she comes from an abusive background, why would she head for such a seedy city?”
“I don’t know.” Nick couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow their disappearance was connected to his last mission. To Devin’s death. Which was completely ridiculous.
“Okay, so where in Amsterdam?” Paige asked.
“Good question.” Nick pulled out his laptop and booted it up.
Paige pointed to a sign above their head. “There’s no internet on this train.”
Nick smiled. Sometimes, he forgot what it was like to be a civilian. He pressed a few buttons, then opened an internet browser. “There’s always internet when you’re an agent.”
Paige scooted closer, peering over his shoulder. “There has to be some kind of connection to this city. Family, maybe? A friend who lives there?”
“If there is, they never mentioned it.”
“Check their social media,” Paige said.
Nick was already pulling up the sites he’d perused earlier in their trip. “I didn’t spend much time on Ryan’s profile, but I’ve been through Evie’s. There’s nothing about Amsterdam on hers.”
“Maybe they posted something today.”
“They’re not idiots.”
“It doesn’t hurt to look.”
Nick nodded, pulling up Evie’s account first. It was locked, the privacy settings not showing more than the name and picture.
Paige sank back against the seat, disappointment plain on her face. “Dang it.”
“You’re forgetting who you’re with.” Nick grinned, his fingers racing across the keyboard. Moments later, he was in to Evie’s account.
“How did you do that?” Paige asked, her voice tinged with awe.
“Agency training.” He scrolled through Evie’s profile. It was mostly pictures of her and Ryan, with videos of cake recipes mixed in—nothing he hadn’t already seen.
“She hasn’t posted since they got to Europe,” Paige said.
“I know. She was probably worried it’d upset her step-dad.” Nick shook his head in disgust and clicked over to Ryan’s profile. It was more robust, featuring pictures of Evie, but also his parents and little brother. Nick had scanned it before but hadn’t bothered to dig for information. Evie was the one in trouble.
Or so he’d thought.
“They look so happy,” Paige said. “Is he really giving that all up for Evie?”
Nick stared at a picture of Ryan with his dad. His father had the same lanky appearance as his son, and looked unexpectedly young—in his early thirties, though Nick knew that couldn’t be right. The caption clearly labeled the other man as dad.
“They look just like each other,” Paige said.
“Hard to believe that man’s a millionaire,” Nick agreed. “He looks so young.” There was something about the man’s eyes that bothered him. He sighed, leaning back in the seat. Worrying was making him crazy.
“What’s Amsterdam like?” Paige asked.
A flash of Devin laughing as they shared a beer the night before the mission flashed into Nick’s mind. He’d wanted to stay in the hotel room, studying up on the diamond cartel, but Devin had insisted they needed to unwind. “Kind of dirty. Lots of trash in the streets. But lots of history, too. The canals are beautiful, and there’s a charm that’s hard to describe.”
Maybe if Nick had forced Devin to stay in, he’d still be alive. They might’ve stumbled across some piece of information that would’ve made Devin more cautious. Any variance might have created a butterfly effect that resulted in the bullet grazing Devin’s arm instead of lodging in his heart.
“Nick?” Paige said quietly.
He shook his head, trying to banish the dark thoughts. “Sorry.”
She brushed a hand through his hair, lingering where the longer locks caressed his collar. “It’s going to be hard for you to go back to the city.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
He patted her knee, forcing himself to take a deep breath and clear his mind. “Me, too.”
They pored over Ryan’s profile, digging deeper than Nick had before. Ryan frequently posted about working with his dad, and there were a lot of photos of the two together.
“Seems like they’re pretty close,” Paige said. She clicked right, and the picture of Ryan and his dad fishing transformed into one of them hunting together in Africa. “Geez, this family is loaded.”
“Paying for Evie’s trip must’ve been nothing to this guy,” Nick agreed.
The next photo showed Ryan at his dad’s office in New York, sitting behind the executive desk.
“He goes to work with his dad a lot,” Paige said. “This guy is into everything. Look, he owns a chain of restaurants in Manhattan.”
Ryan smiled back at the camera, an arm wrapped around Evie as they posed in front of a grill with a short Asian man in a tall chef’s hat.
“It makes sense to diversify,” Nick said. “It’s pretty common for wealthy businessmen to try and grab a piece of every pie out there.”
Paige clicked again. Evie posed in front of a glass display case, diamond earrings dangling from her lobes and a pendant hanging from her neck. The photo was over a year old, further back than Nick had gone in his previous research.
“Stop!” Nick said.
Paige paused, squinting. “Just a little frosting for my girl,” she said, reading the caption. “One day, I’ll run this place, just like my pops. I guess Mr. West owns a diamond store, too.”
Pieces fell into place like a jigsaw puzzle as Nick stared at the photo. At least a dozen engagement rings filled a glittering display case. Every single one of them had a center stone that had to be over a caret in weight.
Was Mr. West involved in the diamond smuggling ring?
He fit the profile—a wealthy businessman with multiple enterprises. Nick took the laptop back from Paige, shielding her view as he pulled up classified documents from the mission.
“Nick?” Paige said. “You’re scaring me.”
“It fits, but it doesn’t,” Nick muttered.
“The newspaper,” Paige said suddenly. “That’s was your mission, wasn’t it? Diamond smuggling. You acted really weird when you saw that article.”
“That’s classified,” Nick said automatically. He scrolled through the pages of information he practically had memorized, analyzing it in a new li
ght.
“Do you think that Ryan’s dad is somehow involved?” Paige asked, her voice doing that high, nervous thing that meant her anxiety was in full force.
“I don’t know,” Nick said. “Let me think for a minute.”
Paige went quiet, settling back into her seat as she stared at him with wide eyes.
Even if Ryan’s dad was involved, it made no sense. How would the crime ring have known Nick was in Europe? He’d only known himself a few days before and hadn’t told anyone but his parents. How would they have even known he was part of the Amsterdam mission? His face had been hidden in shadows that night, and he’d retreated with the surviving team members less than five minutes after arriving. Nick hadn’t been able to clearly ID anyone but Skeeter.
The countryside dissolved into three-story buildings and cobblestone bridges over canals. Tension built in Nick’s chest as the train pulled into the station. He stored his laptop in his backpack, mind still spinning.
Paige’s hand slipped into his and gave a gentle squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “We’re in this together.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
“Where do we start?” Paige asked.
“I guess at the train station. Hopefully someone saw them leave and can point us in the right direction.”
They stepped off the train, the humid air instantly making Nick sweat. He clutched Paige’s hand, shielding her with his body as they made their way off the crowded platform.
Someone bumped against Nick, nearly knocking him off balance. The man kept his head down, a baseball cap shrouding his eyes. A paper fell from his pocket as he disappeared into the crowd.
“You dropped something,” Paige called after the man.
Nick’s blood froze in his veins. He snatched the paper off the ground and unfolded it. Somehow, he already knew what would be inside.
He stared at the address typed in all caps.
“What is it?” Paige asked.
Nick stuck the paper in his pocket and glanced around the room, making the motion casually. A man in a dark T-shirt leaned against the concrete wall, earbuds in but eyes watching Nick and Paige. Nick glanced away, feeling the reassuring pressure of the gun against his back. A woman with tattoos spider-webbed up her arms glared at them from the other side of the room.
“Nick?” Paige whispered.
He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as tension filled his body. He pressed his lips against her ear, pretending to kiss her, and whispered, “They’re watching us. Act casual.”
Her shoulders tensed, but she didn’t look around. Pride swelled in Nick, but fear chased it away. He took a slow, steadying breath. He couldn’t panic. He had to be an agent right now.
“Keep walking,” Nick muttered.
If he told Paige to run, they might go after her. If he bolted and left her behind, someone might snatch her before he could circle back. He had to keep Paige with him. It was the only way to keep her safe.
“Where are we going?” Paige asked, her voice trembling.
Fear and determination battled in his chest for dominance. He tightened his grip around Paige.
“To a warehouse on a canal, near the outskirts of the city,” he said. “I think we’ll find Evie and Ryan there.”
Nick stared back and forth between the tattooed woman and man with earbuds, heart thrumming in his chest. They were part of the crime ring, and they’d been sent to watch for him. He knew it deep in his bones. They were too carefully casual. Their gazes flicked in his direction too often.
How had they found him? Were Evie and Ryan really an elaborate trap to lure him here?
Nick hailed a cab just outside the station, all too aware that the man with earbuds and tattooed woman had followed them outside.
Nick held open the door for Paige, his eyes roving the street for signs of danger. Oh, how he wished Paige had stayed in Paris. Had he sentenced her to death by bringing her?
No. He would get her out alive, no matter what. He forced back the fear, locking away his emotions. Agent Nick needed to take control.
“Where to?” the cab driver asked in Dutch.
Nick rattled off the warehouse address without referencing the paper. The location had been forever burned into his brain two months ago.
“You speak Dutch?” Paige said, face pale. Trembles wracked her body. But there was a steely look of determination in her eyes that made him want to kiss her.
“And French, but I guess you already figured that out.”
She shook her head, as though trying to clear it. “It doesn’t matter right now. What is going on? I thought we were going to look for information at the train station.”
Nick’s heart lurched. Paige was so innocent—not cut out for an agent’s life at all. She had no idea the paper had been meant for them. “The man who bumped into us? That wasn’t an accident. There was an address on the paper. That’s where we’re going.”
Her lips dropped in a frown, and his heart twisted.
“How do you know it was meant for us?” Paige asked.
He was leading a sheep to the slaughter. White-hot terror sliced through him as he contemplated losing Paige. She was his entire world. He needed her.
He couldn’t lose focus. Think like an agent, he repeated over and over in his mind.
Nick pressed his lips against her ear, making sure the cab driver couldn’t overhear. “Because I was at that exact address two months ago.”
Her shoulders tensed, and she stared at him with terrified eyes. “Are you saying—”
He put a hand to her mouth, cutting her off. “Yes.”
“So what does that mean?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.” He pulled the gun from its holster and checked the chamber, then concealed it once more. The cab driver was too busy cursing at a city bus to notice. “But I’m going to keep you safe.”
“Are we headed into an ambush?” Paige asked, her voice high again.
He didn’t say anything—just held her close, heart pounding erratically in his chest. He had to get that under control.
The cab pulled to a stop outside the canal Devin had died in. Brick buildings with pane-glassed windows rose four stories into the air. Paint peeled from the door frames. A bridge spanned the canal, a cargo-boat parked at the dock below.
Nick’s palms were clammy with sweat, and he could hear his heartbeat in his temples. He gave the area a cursory glance, then opened the door and pulled Paige out, keeping an arm around her. He’d shield her with his own body if necessary.
He couldn’t imagine a world that didn’t include Paige.
He pulled out his gun and turned off the safety, but kept it pointed at the ground. The cab sped away, tires squealing against the concrete, as though the cab driver had sensed impending danger and was eager to get away.
Nick wished he could’ve sent Paige with him. But he couldn’t protect Paige if he wasn’t with her, and there was no guarantee she’d be safe without him.
“What now?” Paige whispered, her body shaking against his.
“They wanted us to come here,” Nick said. “I’m sure they’ll reveal the reason soon enough.”
“Or they’ll shoot us dead,” Paige breathed.
Nick cringed. But no, the possibility was minuscule at this point. “If they wanted us dead, they could’ve done that in France. There’s a reason I’m still alive.”
And now, he’d brought Paige into this mess. Collateral.
The warehouse door opened, and a tall man stepped out. Nick flinched, his gun raised and ready to fire.
“Easy,” The man held up a hand, face shrouded in shadows. The button-down shirt and expensive denim jeans looked out of place outside a warehouse.
“Show yourself,” Nick commanded, his voice deadly.
The man lightly took the two front steps in a single bound, hands raised.
“Hello, Nick,” he said, coming to a stop less than five feet away. “It’s been a w
hile. You look good.”
Nick stared, his mind trying to take in the familiar sandy-blonde hair, dimpled chin, and lean physique. Nick’s gun fell to his side, and the man pulled him into a tight hug.
Was this some sort of twisted dream? Surely Nick’s mind played tricks on him.
“Devin,” he choked.
Paige let out a gasp.
“I go by Daan now,” Devin said, releasing Nick. “Helps me to blend in better. It’s so good to see you again. Things haven’t been the same.”
A ton of bricks had fallen on Nick, and he wasn’t sure how to sort through the rubble.
Devin was alive. Which could only mean one thing.
Devin had betrayed the agency. He was the mole.
Nick almost wished his partner was dead again. His chest hurt, and a scream built inside him that he refused to release.
Paige took a step forward, her tiny form shaking. Devin stared at her, one eyebrow raised. Nick grasped at the momentary distraction and reached inside his pocket, flipping the voice recorder on his phone. He shoved the gun back in its holster. Maybe Devin would forget Nick was armed.
Partners didn’t draw weapons on each other.
“Where are Evie and Ryan?” Paige asked, a hint of shrillness entering her tone.
Nick grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him. She didn’t know how to handle these types of situations. She didn’t know what words might get her killed.
Devin was alive. Nick couldn’t trust anything.
“They’re probably enjoying a pastry at a coffee house,” Devin said. His dark eyes glinted. “Mr. West will be very happy with their little performance.”
The words were a punch to the gut. Nick tightened his grip on Paige, struggling to keep his face impassive. The information continued to click into place, like tumblers in a safe.
He didn’t like the picture taking shape.
“Mr. West is the kingpin,” Nick said slowly. “The kids were sent to keep an eye on me.”
“And to bring you to the Netherlands, if it became necessary,” Devin said. “It’s not safe to stand here on the sidewalk. Come inside, and we can talk. Mr. West is very excited to meet you.”
The kingpin was coming. A dull roar filled Nick’s ear, and he struggled to keep his horror from showing.
Kiss Me in the Moonlight (Destined for Love: Europe) Page 12