Page 89 of Stuart Woods' Golden Hour

As quickly as possible, he changed into a more generic look, then donned a black wig and a matching beard.

He concealed his shoulder holster under a lightweight black jacket and finished off his outfit with a pair of orange-tinted glasses and a black, logo-free hat.

Satisfied, he headed out.

After making a clean escapefrom the scene of the shooting, Dieter found a spot down the road where he could keep an eye on the chaos he’d created.

Most of the fans who’d gathered to see Tessa Tweed and Mari Chen had fled the area nearly as fast as he had. Those who hadn’t were being questioned by the police.

It wasn’t long before an ambulance drove up and several EMTs hurried out. Soon after, they returned with the woman on a gurney.

From their actions, it was clear she wasn’t dead yet.

While it was still possible that she would die from the wound, leaving it to chance would be a mistake. There wasone person he knew who could quickly find out where the ambulance was taking her. He just needed to be careful in how he framed the situation when requesting her help.

He placed the call.

“This is Jillian Courtois,” Jillian said.

“It’s Dieter Wenz.”

“Mr. Wenz,” she said, surprised. “I heard you went to Budapest. Were you able to find Turner? Is he Teddy Fay?”

“That’s back burner for the moment. I need your help with something more pressing.”

“But aren’t—”

“Danielle Verde is here.”

“Verde?” Jillian had passed on the information about the woman a few days before and moved onto Fay and the others. “But I thought she was in Romania.”

“Not anymore. But keep that to yourself. I’ll inform Mr. Braun.”

“Okay. What is it I can help you with, then?”

“There’s been an incident,” he said. “She’s being taken to a hospital as we speak.”

“Oh my God. How serious?”

“Unclear at this point. Our client would like me to check on her. Can you figure out where she’s being taken, and after she gets there, where I might find her?”

“Of course. Where was she picked up?”

Dieter filled her in as best he could without revealing too much.

“I’m on it,” she said. “It might take a few minutes, though.”

“Minutes are fine. An hour is too long.”

“I’ll text you the info.”

“Thank you.”

Dieter hung up, took one last look at the growing collection of police cars, then headed for the train station.

Rolf and Andreas were waiting for him when he got there.

“Any problems?” he asked.

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