Page 182 of Chameleon Killer

Narrative.

Specificity.

I wished they hadn't. I didn't need a serial killer—or alleged serial killer, if I wanted to annoy Brewster—to help me win an argument.

Brewster clasped his hands loosely on the table. “What did Simon tell you about Guy Reardon?”

Alisha's pen stopped.

I stared at Brewster.

Not Colin. Not the building. Not how Simon had breached federal surveillance.

Guy.

Isn’t that interesting? I made a mental note though I wished I had my own recorder or a pen and paper to write stuff down. I was going to have to trust my memory—and Flint’s.

“No comment.” I managed to keep my tone bland and without emphasis.

“Did he discuss Reardon's hospitalization?”

“No comment.”

“His death?” Brewster refused to be detered.

“No comment.”

“The missing medical records?”

“No comment.”

The questions accelerated. Flint’s attention shifted from me to focus on Brewster. I wanted to know what Flint saw, what he heard. But I promised myself we’d discuss this later.

“Did he tell you why those records were missing?”

Alisha attempted to intervene. “Agent⁠—”

“No comment.”

Brewster leaned forward. “Did he identify who removed them?”

“No com⁠—”

“Did he tell you what happened during Reardon's hospitalization?”

“No—“

“Did he mention a second toxicology—” Brewster stopped abruptly, his own rush tripping him up.

Too late. Everything in me went still. Flint's head turned sharply. Detective Ortiz stopped writing.

Alisha didn't move at all, which was impressive.

I studied Brewster as his gaze locked on mine. For a moment, all I saw was a quiet, intense dislike. The emotion so dark it actually made me lean back. It lingered in his eyes for a beat, then another before he shuttered it away and it vanished.

“What second toxicology?” Ortiz asked.

Brewster didn't glance at her. “It's part of the medical inquiry.”