Page 273 of Chameleon Killer

Simon glanced at me. “Yes.”

Brewster's jaw tightened.

“You've killed people for less.” The Auditor returned his attention to Brewster.

“You manipulated investigations. Destroyed evidence.”

“Yes.” No denial at all. “Then so have you.”

“You interfered with federal operations,” Brewster countered.

Simon—The Auditor—both of them maybe? smiled. “Repeatedly.”

Apparently we were going with radical honesty.

Brewster took a step toward him, gun unwavering and he dragged me with him. “You think this is funny?”

“No.”

“You think you're smarter than everyone.”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

Simon tilted his head. The gesture seemed familiar, natural, just like I’d imagined each time we’d “communicated.” It was eerie and unsettling.

“You spent years constructing a man who could justify what you wanted to become,” Simon said. “I imagine meeting the actual person is disappointing.”

“You murdered them.” Brewster's face went white.

“Some.”

The ease of his confession in that one word chilled me.

Brewster stared.“So you admit it.”

“I've never denied it.”

“To her?”

Simon looked at me. “No.”

I held his gaze. He was right. He hadn’t denied it. He only denied the two he hadn’t committed.

Brewster laughed again. “There. You see?” He was talking to me now. “That's what he is.”

“I see him.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Elliot—”

“He chooses what you see.” He shook me, his fingers biting into my arm. “That's what he does. He gives you just enough truth to make you believe you're finding the rest.”

Simon said nothing, which—weirdly at this point—irritated me. “Feel free to defend yourself.”

“No.”