Page 250 of Chameleon Killer

“Stay out of this.” Brewster's gaze snapped to him.

“No.” One word. Flat. Absolute. A line that if Brewster crossed it, I had a feeling that Flint would meet him fist for fist.

“Why was the sample destroyed?” As much as I might enjoy punching Brewster myself right now, better to sort this out.

Jaw clenched, Brewster stared somewhere between me and Flint as though he were even debating an answer. What he finally said was, “I told you. Routine disposal.”

Okay. If he wanted to play it that way. I leaned back in my seat and crossed one leg over the other. “Before or after Guy died?”

Silence.

He finally met my stare and I swore there were volumes of all the things he wasn’t saying housed inside them. The trouble was, I didn’t believe Flint’s presence was what made him coy.

It was just an excuse.

Into this expanding silence the waitress came by and refilled our cups. Flint even passed her mine before he set it back in front of me.

“We still haven’t decided,” he told her. “If you need the table, we can take this outside.”

“Take your time, hon.”

While I didn’t look away from Brewster, I could almost feel her studying us before she retreated.

Brewster blinked first. “After.”

I didn’t patronize him for finally answering, I just pressed forward on the interview. “How long after?”

“I don’t remember.”

Another lie. Guy hadn’t been dead that long.

Fine. If this was what he wanted to do, then we would do it this way. “Was the second sample destroyed too?”

“No.”

Everything in me stopped. “Where is it?” I asked.

His smile was almost bittersweet and more than a little twisted. “Federal evidence storage.”

“Why?”

“Because it became relevant to the Auditor investigation.” He gave an almost careless shrug like, what did I expect? “Once Reardon was dead, and the cases linked, all evidence in custody was moved.”

“So they can test it again.”

Another shrug. “Sure, but without the first sample there’s nothing to compare it to—and before you decide to demand answers on the current tests, testing procedures, and more, remember—it can only be used as evidence if it can be directly tied into his death. Without that first sample…”

“It’s an unclear timeline and I imagine there’s not enough of a sample for several tests.” Flint didn’t cuss, but I still heard it.

In other words, the evidence told a story but not enough of one.

“So—to clarify,” Flint said, ticking off the items with his fingers. “There were two blood samples. One tox screen showed no versed. Second one showed the versed. First screen is missing. First sample was destroyed. Second sample is in evidence, but there’s not enough to replicate the tests in any meaningful manner.”

“More or less,” Brewster said, his tone turning grudging.

“Then why are you telling us any of this?” By us, Flint meant me and I was already there. This was another excuse Brewster was using. But I wanted to see where this was going.

It was like something snapped in him before Brewster reached across the table, striking like a snake to grab my hand. “Because Simon clearly wants you.” The pause after that word let him suck in a deep breath. “He wants you looking for it, he wants you doing his work—he wants you.”