Page 175 of Chameleon Killer

Simon. Again, the internal correction came almost automatically but it felt far less interesting when compared to what they were saying.

“What do you mean, you heard him?”

Brewster's attention sharpened. “We had surveillance on the meeting.”

I did not roll my eyes, but I did look at Flint. He didn’t apologize. I would have been more irritated if he had. We’d discussed the plan at length before I went in.

“What surveillance?” I returned my attention to Brewster.

“The feed from the room,” Brewster said.

“There wasn't a feed.” I never did find any cameras.

“Yes, there was.”

“I was sitting right here.” I motioned to the room.

“And we watched you.”

Cold moved through me. Not fear, but something adjacent. “You watched me?”

Flint stepped in before Brewster could answer. “We had video and audio.”

I stared at him. “You heard me?”

“Yes.”

“Talking?” I couldn’t quite put that together with the interaction I’d had with Simon.

His expression shifted. “Yes.”

My mouth went dry. I looked toward the chair. Then the monitor. Then back at Flint. “I barely talked.”

Now Brewster went completely still.

Flint's face changed.

“What?” I asked.

Neither answered.

“What did you hear?”

Brewster's response was immediate. “We'll do this somewhere secure.”

“No.”

“Mallory—”

“No.” I pointed at Flint. “He just said you heard me talking. I want to know what you heard.”

“We need to preserve your independent recollection before contaminating it with ours.”

That was objectively reasonable. I hated it. “You already contaminated it by telling me there was another version.”

Brewster's eyes narrowed.

Another version.