21I heard the anguish in Holger’s voice, the pain of another wound inflicted by Yurlova. She’d taken Stefan from him, too.
Yet, Stefan couldn’t have betrayed EZ Force. He hadn’t known the precise timing of the assault. But I couldn’t defend him over an open line. “You go ahead to Copenhagen,” I urged again. “I’m staying.”
Holger was silent for a half beat before he spoke with cool formality. “Goodbye, Kathryn.”
Taking the pitcher from the refrigerator, I filled a glass with water. I emptied it down my throat. The lukewarm liquid soothed the rawness. And I snapped the last piece of data into the facts I’d assembled the night before.
Stefan. Every time I hit a snag in this investigation, I ran into Stefan. Yurlova had framed him to divert suspicion from her real informant. By blackening
