Free Nemesis: Innocence Sold by Stefanie Ross

a women’s magazine.
    He waved his hand toward the interview corner, just as his cell phone rang. After looking at the display, he accepted the call with a grimace. “He’s on his way to the office. Keep him busy somehow. We’re meeting at the steak house at one.”
    Sandra gave free rein to her curiosity after Stephan had ended the call. “Is Dirk not well? He seemed . . .” She broke off awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be impolite. It’s just that . . .”
    Stephan’s gaze became cooler. “Someone tried to kidnap his son yesterday.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said, swallowing her question about whether the boy was four years old and had blond hair and brown eyes. In the best case, Stephan would consider her insensitive; in the worst case, he would think she was crazy. Nevertheless, the thought wouldn’t go away. She noticed that Stephan was looking at her expectantly. She hadn’t registered his question. “I’m sorry, I didn’t . . . Did you ask me something?”
    A trace of impatience was evident in Stephan, and since she was familiar with his usual self-control, she knew this was intentional. “I can certainly ask the question a third time. Why the drug unit?”
    This was exactly the question for which she had prepared, but now she was unable to produce a convincing answer. She retreated into cliché phrases and could tell she was losing his attention. Insecurity gripped her, paired with fear of letting this unique opportunity slip through her fingers. She began to stutter. The tone was equally cool during the rest of the conversation. When Stephan finally stood up, Sandra knew she had lost her chance. She hardly managed to look Stephan in the eye and forced herself to smile when he promised he would contact her again. Sandra’s hand was already on the door handle when she realized the door led to the office next door and not to the corridor. She had the sense that Stephan usually left this door open, and bitter disappointment over not getting the opportunity to work in this casual environment spread through her. Rather than crossing the office with a bright red face because of her error, she would end her visit to the drug unit by passing through this office.
    “Just leave the door open,” Stephan said.
    Without turning around, Sandra nodded. “I will.”
    At one of the desks a man was bent over a rolling file cabinet but straightened up when Sandra approached. She stopped as if frozen. The brown-haired man, this time without handcuffs. He must have escaped her colleague somehow. Without hesitating, Sandra leapt forward and threw him to the floor with a hip toss. With a muffled curse, the man tried to get up, but Sandra held him down. “Is that close enough for you now? I have no idea how you got loose, but this is the last stop for you.”
    Coughing, the man gasped for air. “Man, let me go. Have you gone insane? I’m . . .”
    The rest of the sentence was lost in bright laughter. Katharina Schlegel was standing next to her with two cups of coffee. She tried twice to say something, but was laughing so hard she could only get out incoherent words.
    “Would someone tell me what’s going on here?” Stephan Reimers took the coffee cups from Katharina. “Sandra?”
    “I thought . . .”
    The man struggled to his feet and interrupted her, grinning. “My fault, boss. Apparently my act earlier was absolutely convincing. Detective Lars Hoffman, only occasionally acting as a drug dealer or something similar. Sorry about the stupid remarks earlier, but there was someone sitting in the room next door who was supposed to hear all that. And it worked like a charm. He’s still singing like a bird. That wasn’t bad. Are you a female version of Dirk or what?”
    “Dirk Richter?”
    “Yes, I still haven’t gotten over how he took on three armed men. There should be a movie about that.” His gaze wandered to his desk. “Damn. I’d love to talk with you some more, but I need to