Page 205 of Chameleon Killer

Mallory noticed. “Old habit?”

“Yes.”

“Paranoid.” She made it a compliment.

So I flashed her a grin. “Yes.” I opened the door. She started past me. I caught her arm. “Wait.”

Her eyes rose to mine.

“I'll check.”

“Flint—”

“Humor me.”

For a second I thought she'd argue.

Then she stepped back. That unsettled me far more than if she’d rolled her eyes or started cursing me.

I entered first.

Kitchen.

Clear.

Living room.

Clear.

Bedroom.

Bathroom.

Closets.

Balcony door.

Everything exactly as we'd left it.

The whiteboard still covered half the wall.

Photographs.

Building diagrams.

Floor plans.

Access routes.

Copies of everything I'd managed to gather before Mallory's meeting. My entire Saturday spread across glass and paper.

Mallory stood in front of it when I came back.

“You went there.” Not a question.

“Yes.”

“Before we went.”