Page 128 of Chameleon Killer

A beat passed as I waited for a response. The welcome line vanished then another appeared.

Close the door if it will make you feel more comfortable.

I raised my eyebrows.

No one will interrupt. Your choice if the door is open or closed.

“My choice?” I let the question hang out there.

Yes.

Lips pursed, I glanced at the open door then at the monitor.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Another beat.

You brought Mr. Carter.

The hairs rose along my arms beneath my jacket. The ripple of gooseflesh threatened to make me shiver, but I managed to suppress that reaction.

“He remained outside.”

As instructed.

I shrugged. “It’s better for him to be here with me knowing than have him attempt to follow without my knowledge.”

Accepted.

The ease of that answer surprised me.

“You would have been disappointed if I just blindly followed your instructions.” It wasn’t a guess so much as an estimation of all of our interactions.

The word disappeared and the screen remained blank for what felt like a longer pause.

Perhaps. You only follow an instruction after you’ve evaluated it.

Without meaning to, I smiled. “Apparently, you’ve been paying attention to me.” Again, it wasn’t a guess. I was just confirming what he’d already proven.

He had been paying attention to me.

I have been paying attention since before you even knew that you were asking the right questions.

“Asking the right questions? Or coming to the correct conclusions?”

They are not mutually exclusive.

No. They weren’t.

Blowing out a breath, I moved over to the desk and pulled out a chair to finally sit. The notepad and pen were right in front of me and the monitor seemed to take the place of his personal appearance.

Too clever by half.

“I came because I have questions.”

The cursor blinked on the screen.

So do I.