Page 148 of Chameleon Killer

I opened my mouth. Stopped. There it was. The price. Every principle sounded easy until the consequences had names.

Colin.

Guy.

Flint.

Elliot.

The FBI investigation.

Victims whose families might lose justice if revealing one truth compromised another.

I hated that he—Simon—had brought me here. “I verify first.”

Good.

“I corroborate.”

Yes.

“I give the person an opportunity to respond.”

If possible.

“And then I report.”

Even if the truth harms someone you care about?

I looked at the monitor. “Yes.” The answer hurt. That was probably why it mattered.

The cursor blinked for several seconds.

I believe you.

That unsettled me more than Better ever had. I leaned back. “My question.”

Proceed.

“You said the second toxicology exists. What was found?”

No answer.

The cursor blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“Simon?”

I will not give you that answer.

The refusal was almost refreshing. “Why?”

Another question.

“Fine. Why won’t you answer?”