Page 282 of Chameleon Killer

Of course he had.

“CPD?”

“And the FBI.”

“Ambulance?”

“Yes.”

I glanced at Brewster. Too late for him. Not for me. Not for Flint. Not for Simon.

The sirens grew louder. I looked at Simon again. He remained exactly where he'd been.

Waiting.

I could keep him there. One command. One shot. Maybe just keep the gun trained on him until the police arrived.

He had admitted it. Not all of it. Enough. I could end the Auditor tonight. Maybe I should. Maybe that was what the facts required.

Except I couldn’t bring myself to raise the gun. I thought of Flint. I needed to know he was alive. Needed to see him. Needed⁠—

I turned my back on Simon.

Maybe it was the worst decision I would ever make. Maybe I'd spend the rest of my life wondering.

There was an old landline mounted on the warehouse wall near what had once been an office.

I walked toward it. Every slow, limping step felt like a decision I kept making.

Behind me, Simon said nothing.

I picked up the receiver. Dial tone. My hand shook as I punched in three numbers.

“Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?”

“My name is Mallory McBryan.” My voice cracked. I swallowed and tried again. “My name is Mallory McBryan. I've been abducted. There has been a shooting. One man is dead.”

The dispatcher started asking questions.

Address. Injuries. Weapons. Whether the person who abducted me was still present.

I glanced over my shoulder.

I was alone. The warehouse was empty.

Only Brewster’s body remained. Simon's gun lay on the concrete where he'd placed it.

I stared at the place he'd been standing.

Nothing.

No movement.

No sound.

No pale brown eyes catching gold in the light.

Gone.