Page 38 of Chameleon Killer

The murders.

The FBI.

The Auditor.

It was just Flint and me in a room full of impossible questions. He not only understood the way my mind unraveled a mystery, he also got how to help me weave it all back together.

My phone buzzed against the conference table and shivered a couple of millimeters under the force of it.

Flint and I looked at it simultaneously. Unknown Number flashed across the screen. Neither of us reached for it. Not right away.

Breaking the silence first, Flint asked, “You expecting anyone?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “But then nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.”

The Monty Python line earned me a faint smile as the phone ceased, the call kicking over to voicemail. A few spare seconds later, the phone vibrated again.

Unknown number.

A second attempt.

"You don't have to answer it," he said.

I stared at the screen. “Actually..." I murmured. "I think I do."

"Why?"

"Because whoever's on the other end knows I won't ignore a question."

His expression tightened. “Or they know you'll chase one."

I couldn't argue with that.

Curiosity had carried me through war zones, political coups, and more crime scenes than I cared to count. It had also nearly gotten me killed.

The phone noise ended. Ten seconds later, it buzzed for a third time.

Persistent.

Patient.

“They know I’m going to answer.” It was just a matter of when.

Flint met my eyes. “If this is him...”

“I know.” The Auditor hadn’t been this bold since he sent me a finger. To be honest, I preferred the call to a finger.

"If it's Brewster..." Flint continued.

A sigh escaped me. I’d made mistakes with Brewster. I’d let that simmering attraction drive a decision or four. So, yes, if it were Brewster. “I know. I can handle it.”

Not saying anything, Flint brushed his knuckles down my arm before he took the container of food. ”And if it's neither...”

We’d handle that too. I picked up the phone but didn't swipe to answer. Instead, I just hit speaker as I accepted the call.

"Mallory McBryan."

Silence. But it was a populated silence, like someone was there. This wasn’t just dead air.