Page 160 of Chameleon Killer

“Already looking, sir.”

I could hear the click of his fingers moving over a keyboard. “Separate the incoming audio from the video stream.”

Ruiz grunted, but only said, “They're already separate.”

“Then compare packet timing.”

A few seconds passed. Then several more.

“What?” I demanded as Carter’s focus lasered onto me.

Ruiz didn't answer.

“Agent.” Grinding the address out worked better than a snap.

“The audio isn't coming from the same source.” His response wasn’t hesitant so much as guarded.

Silence filled the van and I blew out a breath. Carter straightened. I might have the headset on, but I had one side turned out so he could hear that part.

“Explain,” I ordered.

“The video feed is routed through one address chain,” Ruiz said and I didn’t complain when Carter plugged in an earbud to the console that let him hear the conversation clearly. “Audio is coming through another.”

“Can you trace it?” I cared less about how it worked than what we could do with it.

“No.” The swiftness of Ruiz’s answer had Carter’s brows up and I gritted my teeth.

“Wrong answer,” I informed him. “Try.”

“I am.” Ruiz wasn’t quite belligerent, but he was walking the edge. “This is not as simple as it sounds, sir.”

He issued the “sir” in the tone most people reserved for an insult rather than a respectful address.

Carter cut a look at me as he motioned to the headset. “May I?” He mouthed those two words, rather than speak them aloud.

I nodded once.

“Ruiz,” Carter said. “Could he be somewhere else?”

“Yes.” The answer came, clipped and curt.

For his part, Carter grimaced. “What—is it possible, that he could have prerecorded this audio?”

Ruiz hesitated, which was an answer in and of itself. I stared at Carter then at the monitor where Mallory focused across the desk to—whomever or whatever was there.

“Yes,” the agent answered. “It—it could also be generated, sir—sirs.”

The temperature in the van seemed to plummet and skyrocket at the same time. On the screen, Mallory laughed. The act lit up her face and I could practically feel the warmth of that husky sound.

The unsub said, “You have a lovely laugh.”

I watched her.

She almost smiled again. While she controlled the twitch of her lips, it was the gleam in her eyes that gave her away. “Thank you.”

She meant it.

“You're welcome.”