Geneva was cold in December.
Adam stood at the window of a rented apartment across the street from Elara Krause's building. The curtains were drawn, the lights low. A pair of binoculars hung around his neck. His hands were steady, but his mind was racing.
Three days until Elara's birthday. Three days until Victor Krause was supposed to appear.
“Anything?” Sandra asked from the couch behind him.
“Nothing. Same as yesterday.”
“Maybe he's not coming.”
“He's coming. Leo confirmed the pattern. Every year, same time, same place.”
“People change patterns.”
“Not this one.”
---
Nina walked in from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hand.
“I checked the perimeter. Two exits. One parking garage. Cameras at both ends of the street.”
“Security?”
“None visible. But that doesn't mean anythi
