Page 98 of Chameleon Killer

His calm made me want to shake him. Or kiss him. The fact both reactions arrived at once did nothing for my mood.

Reclaiming my coffee, I took one deep breath, then another. Calmer, I gestured toward the board. “What is all this?”

“A plan.” Nice and vague, though I could guess.

“For?” Specifics would be nice. Though I didn’t say that part.

“For when you go.”

I stopped. Not if. When.

Flint closed the laptop and placed it beside him. “I know you’re going.”

I eyed him. Who was he and what had he done with Flint? “Weren’t you the one that spent most of last evening arguing against this and telling me not to?”

“I was hoping you’d develop survival instincts while I slept.”

“Did you even sleep?”

“No, but apparently you weren’t developing the survival instincts either.”

I folded my arms.

He rose.

The movement brought him level with me, then above. Flint never used his size deliberately, at least not with me, but the room became smaller whenever he straightened to his full height.

“I’m still not agreeing with this,” he said, being utterly serious now. “I’m merely acknowledging the reality that you will do whatever you think is best and to hell with the rest of us.”

That was harsh. “You think I’m incapable of changing my mind?”

He gave me the smallest smile before he picked up his own coffee cup and headed for the kitchen. “I think you made up your mind before you even got the note.”

The accuracy irritated me and since he was walking away, I gave into temptation and stuck my tongue out at him while he couldn’t see me.

Not satisfied with only that for a response, I took a sip of my coffee before I asked “Then why argue?”

He pulled milk out of the fridge and started it steaming before he answered. “Because every now and then I indulge the fantasy that you might listen for once.”

“I listen.” Not all of my outrage was performative. Some, yes, but not all.

The bland look he shot me told me he was hardly fooled. “You wait for pauses then try to deflect and derail back to where you want to go.”

“That’s not—totally wrong.”

“Generous.” The sarcasm draped heavily over the word.

I almost smiled, but hid the reaction by taking a long swallow of the coffee. When he started grinding more coffee, I studied the board. It didn’t take him long to return with a fresh coffee for him and a second one for me.

Blinking, almost blearily, I stared at the new cup then drained what was left in the one I had. I practically hugged the new cup as he set my empty one aside on the table.

Smiling faintly, Flint crossed to the board and tapped the exterior photograph.

“The building has two active tenants. A law office on the fourth floor and a logistics company on seven. Both have Saturday hours intermittently but they are closed by six if they come in at all.”

“The meeting is at midnight.”

“I’m aware.” The crispness in his voice didn’t betray irritation so I just went with it.