Page 88 of Chameleon Killer

Very important.

And…

“I don’t know.”

Flint nodded once, but there was no satisfaction in it. “That’s the problem.”

I looked toward the newsroom where Brewster had disappeared only minutes earlier. The Auditor wanted my attention. Brewster wanted my trust.

I wasn't sure either of them deserved it.

Chapter

Thirteen

MALLORY

Three days passed before the Auditor contacted me again.

In that time, Brewster called eleven times and I answered four. The first six calls had been demands for the return of his phone. I’d powered it off so he couldn’t track it and played dumb.

I wasn’t proud of that.

I also wasn’t sorry.

Two of the calls involved updates on Guy’s medical records, neither of which explained the missing fourteen pages. The hospital blamed a data-migration error. The insurer claimed the treatment codes had been entered incorrectly.

Brewster called it a discrepancy.

Flint and I called it confirmation.

The pages were missing, and no one could—or would—account for them.

We requested billing statements through a source in hospital administration and tracked down the ambulance crew that had brought Guy in. One paramedic remembered him because Guy had regained consciousness briefly and refused pain medication. He’d relented only after being assured it wouldn’t compromise a toxicology screen.

The official records contained no toxicology results.

By Thursday, we’d added two more boards to the conference room.

By Friday, Brewster had stopped asking me to turn over his phone and started asking whether the Auditor had contacted me again.

He had not.

On one level, that worried me. I couldn’t assume he was unaware of our progress. The Auditor had made it clear he’d seen the boards. He knew what questions we were asking.

Maybe he didn’t feel the need to correct us.

Good thing?

Bad thing?

I wasn’t entirely certain.

That worried me more than the calls.

I was still staying at Flint’s apartment.

He was still sleeping on the sofa.