Page 54 of Chameleon Killer

“Accusations?”

“Nothing credible.”

“Financial misconduct?”

“No.”

“Secret settlements?”

Her shoulders tightened. “Attorneys handle settlements.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

She glanced back at me. “No.”

“Are you sure?” I pressed, locking eyes with her.

“None that I’m aware of.” She didn’t add that if they were truly secret, why would she know? But I heard it loud and clear. “I trusted him. I still trust him.”

That told me so much more.

She faced the board again and wrote:

CRIME: ?

BENEFIT: ?

ESCAPE: ?

The question marks looked more judgmental as hell.

I moved beside her. “He represented people with money.”

“So do half the attorneys in Chicago.”

“He represented you.”

Slowly, she faced me. “The last time I checked, that wasn’t a crime.”

“Never said it was.” But I wanted her out of her head. Guilt nibbled at her, it reflected back at me from her blue and hazel eyes.

“Then what did Colin do?” She didn’t sob or even raise her voice. The quiet loss was so much more devastating.

As much as I hated to say it, I did. “Maybe nothing.”

The apartment seemed to contract around us. Somewhere in the distance, a siren rose and faded. The refrigerator kicked on in the kitchen with the subtlety of heavy machinery.

Mallory twisted back to the board and I didn’t have to follow her gaze to know she was staring at Colin’s name.

Her face changed. The strain gathered around her eyes and her fingers tightened around the marker.

Colin Thorne had been more than an attorney to her.

I knew that much.

He had returned her calls at impossible hours. Talked her through subpoenas, threats, injunctions, and at least one deposition I knew of that had turned vicious when opposing counsel dragged her childhood into the room. Colin had been the calm voice telling her which risks were real and which were designed to frighten her.

He’d had her back with Reardon, her contract, and the Auditor. Professional all the way, but he’d also been her friend.