Page 269 of Chameleon Killer

“No.” My voice went quiet. “It's about you.”

His expression changed. I looked at the gun. Then the warehouse. Then him.

All at once, the pieces stopped being pieces. They snapped into place, one by one. I’d put it together before, but then he’d—done whatever.

Guy. The missing records. The toxicology. The second sample. Elliot's name impressed into the page. His obsession with what Simon had told me. His questions about whether Simon had accused him. His fear every time I got closer.

“You killed Guy.”

His face emptied. It wasn’t confirmation, but it wasn’t surprise or denial either.

“Guy was already dying.”

“That’s weak.” I studied him. “He was in the hospital for his injuries because he survived the first attack. Saying he was dying then helping him along is still killing him.”

“You aren’t seeing the whole picture.”

I swallowed. “Then why did you need the toxicology destroyed?”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. I almost smiled, because the last piece was just there. “The first sample showed something. It was why you made sure it was destroyed.”

“He'd been medicated.” The cold air seemed at odds with the beads of sweat on his forehead. “We need to go inside.”

I ignored the last part. I would like to say I was being stubborn, but I needed to focus everything on this right now and my head hurt too much to split my attention. “The paramedic said he refused medication until they assured him it wouldn't affect the tox screen.”

“That doesn't mean⁠—”

“What was in it?”

“Mallory.”

“What was in Guy's blood?”

Brewster looked away. I stepped closer.

“You didn't bring me here to protect me from Simon.”

His gaze returned.

“You brought me here because I found your name.”

“That isn't what happened.”

“Then tell me what happened.”

He looked exhausted. For a moment, I saw the man I'd known. Or at least the man I’d thought I’d known.

The profiler who had sat across from me in restaurants. Answered my calls at obscene hours. Argued with me about sources and evidence and whether curiosity qualified as self-destructive behavior.

I had trusted him and that was the part that hurt the most.

“I needed information,” he said.

“From Guy?” That actually surprised me.

“Yes.”

“About Simon.” That surprised me more.