He was somber when he got out of the car and told Christina good luck. He didn’t add that she wouldn’t need it. They wouldn’t find Nicolae at the pier, Dustin was sure of it. He didn’t know why he was sure of it, and he didn’t know how, but he was convinced of it regardless. And if there was one thing Dustin had learned when it came to dealing with Nicolae, it was to trust your instincts. It all seemed so obvious: the park where Nicolae walked his dogs, the park that bordered the small street at the back of the village square, the street where the market ran every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday morning. The market where Emil sold whatever the hell it was he sold. Ivory crosses with dangling men, statues of praying virgins or whichever figure his particular religion bestowed on their deity.
