Page 119 of Chameleon Killer

Brewster checked his watch. “How long before you go in?”

“When she tells me.”

“And if she can’t?”

I didn’t answer.

“Carter.”

“I heard you.”

“If he disables her phone⁠—”

“It’s passive.”

“If he searches her⁠—”

“He may not find it.”

“If he does?”

“Then we have a problem.”

“We already have a problem.” He wasn’t wrong. I hated that. Brewster’s receiver clicked. He listened, then said, “Repeat.”

A distant voice answered. He leaned forward toward the monitors.

“What?” I asked.

“Thermal picked up movement on eleven.”

“Human?” That seemed logical, but I wanted the facts.

“Two signatures.”

My pulse kicked hard.

“Positions?”

“One stationary near the river-facing wall. The other crossed from the elevator bank.”

Mallory.

The stationary heat signature could be the Auditor. Or a space heater. Or another decoy.

Trust but verify. “Can they identify?”

“No.”

“Then they have nothing.”

“They have two bodies on a floor that should be empty.”

I shrugged. “That only proves someone planned a meeting.”

“It proves she isn’t alone,” Brewster countered.

I was going to hate myself later. “We don’t even know if one of them is her. It could be someone else altogether.”