Page 123 of Chameleon Killer

Brewster said nothing.

Neither did I.

On the feed, Mallory recovered first. “And Guy Reardon?”

Another pause.

“No.”

Brewster looked away from the screen, a frown tightening his brows. Was it killing him to not be the one in there asking the questions?

Mallory leaned forward. “Then who did?”

“You are still asking for conclusions before you have completed the work.”

“You brought me here,” she reminded him with just a sliver of impatience in her voice. She did not like to be led around by the nose.

“To determine whether you were capable of asking the question without being led to it.”

“Congratulations,” she said, spreading her hands. “I asked. Now answer.”

Something in the silence that followed felt almost amused. Then he said, “You already asked the man who knows.”

Brewster went rigid beside me.

My attention shifted from the screen to him. His expression remained controlled. Too controlled.

The Auditor had used the same phrase from the invitation.

The wrong man. The man who knows. That did not make Brewster guilty. It made him relevant.

Very relevant.

Mallory said, “You mean Brewster.”

The profiler’s gaze snapped back to the monitor.

“I did not name him,” the Auditor replied.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Interesting.”

“What does he know?” Their questions collided one over the other.

But his finished a beat after hers. “What do you believe?”

So she ticked off her answer. “I believe he has access to the full case files.”

“True.”

“I believe he knows what was missing from Guy’s hospital records.”

Silence. Mallory recognized it by the way her eyebrows raised.

“That’s true too,” she said when he continued to not answer.

“Is it?”