Page 140 of Chameleon Killer

I hated that he was right. “I’m testing consistency.”

Also true.

“Which means I don’t necessarily believe you.”

No.

“But?”

The cursor blinked.

You believe the possibility.

That was different and worse.

I stared at the screen. “Yes.”

Thank you.

“For what?”

Honesty.

The answer disturbed me, but I didn’t look to closely at it. I wanted to ask about Colin, but I’d already used my questions in the banter so it was my turn, so I waited.

Why did you sleep with Agent Brewster?

Everything inside me went perfectly still. Frozen. Then my pulse kicked hard once against my throat.

The pen slipped from my fingers and hit the desk with a sharp little crack that sounded obscenely loud in the soundproofed room.

For several seconds, I did nothing. Then I looked toward the corners.

The cameras.

Of course.

No.

Not of course.

How did Simon know? Who knew? Brewster. Me. Now Flint. Potentially whoever monitored the safe house.

The FBI?

I didn’t know.

My eyes narrowed at the monitor. “How do you know about that?”

You are answering my question with another.

“Because your question presumes private information you should not have.”

Should?

“Do not play grammar games with me.”

I am not.