Page 198 of Chameleon Killer

Twenty-One

FLINT

By the time they let us leave, dawn was in the process of arriving.The sky beyond the narrow windows of the CPD building had gone from black to that ugly bruised gray Chicago wore before sunrise. Streetlights still burned. A sanitation truck groaned through an intersection below while somebody in the lobby argued with a vending machine.

Normal life. It seemed so damn far away at the moment. I barely remembered what that felt like.

Alisha stood in front of Mallory with one hand braced on the conference table and the other holding a business card Mallory already had two copies of.

“If Agent Brewster calls you about this investigation, you call me.”

Mallory folded her arms. “Before or after I answer?”

Alisha stared.

Mallory sighed. “Before.”

“If anyone from the Bureau calls.”

“Before.”

“CPD?”

Mallory glanced toward Ortiz. The detective was pretending not to listen from across the room.

“Before,” Mallory repeated.

“Anyone claiming to represent any agency, task force, prosecutor, coroner, medical examiner, elected official, hospital system, insurance carrier, or unusually persistent Girl Scout?”

A tired smile crept across Mallory's face. “Before.”

“Excellent.” Alisha nodded. “You're trainable after all.”

“Let's not get carried away.”

I snorted.

Alisha pointed at me without looking. “You aren't exempt.”

“I figured.”

“Good. And because I'm representing both of you for the moment, neither one of you gets clever and decides the other person's silence constitutes permission to speak.”

Mallory looked offended.

I didn't bother pretending.

“That warning feels specifically targeted,” she said.

“It is.”

Ortiz finally gave up and laughed.

Alisha collected her bag.

“I'll call both of you this afternoon after I've slept enough to remember why I went to law school.”

“Money?” Mallory offered.