Page 188 of Chameleon Killer

“Yes.”

“Then stop feeding the environment.”

Damn. That sounded annoyingly sensible. Flint dragged out the chair nest to mine and dropped into it. “She has a point.”

I gave him a look. “You are dangerously reasonable when exhausted.”

“I pace myself.” His dry delivery made me smile.

Alisha looked between us. “Is there anything either of you has withheld from me that changes your legal position?”

“No,” I said. That wasn't a lie. Simon hadn't threatened me. He hadn't asked me to commit a crime. He hadn't directed me to destroy evidence. He'd given me information. Information I had not yet verified.

She didn't need to know all of it to protect me. At least, I didn't think she did. The fact I was already making distinctions about who needed to know what bothered me—a little.

Alisha's gaze lingered on me. “If that answer changes, you tell me first.”

“Understood.”

She turned toward Flint. “And you?”

“Same answer.”

“Good. Then you will also tell me first if it changes.”

A knock sounded. Ortiz opened the door without waiting. “Sorry.”

“You don't look sorry,” Alisha said.

“I'm not.”

She glanced toward Flint and me. “Cyber wants to walk through the video discrepancy.”

I straightened. “Now?”

“If counsel agrees.”

Alisha studied Ortiz. “Are they questioning my client?”

“They want her to identify whether what they captured matches her recollection.”

Alisha looked at me.

I nodded. “I want to see it.”

“I know you do.” She sounded profoundly unenthusiastic. “That isn't the same as whether you should.”

“It already contaminated my recollection.”

“Yes.”

“And if they're going to keep asking about discrepancies between their recording and my statement, I need to know what discrepancy they're talking about.”

Alisha seemed to consider it. Then nodded. “Fine. We watch. She does not answer substantive questions about the underlying conversation.”

Ortiz opened the door wider. “Works for me.”

“After,” Alisha continued. “Her bathroom break, food, and decent coffee.”