Page 152 of Chameleon Killer

I frowned. “That’s it?”

No.

Of course not.

I waited.

Find out who changed the ending.

Every nerve in my body came alive.

Someone had taken the Auditor’s existing narrative and written their own conclusion onto it.

“Who?”

No.

I expected that. “Do you know?”

Yes.

That one I hadn’t expected. My pulse accelerated. “You know who killed them.”

Yes.

The room went utterly silent. I could hear nothing but my heartbeat. “Tell me.”

No.

“Why the hell not?”

Because you will not believe me.

“Try me.”

No.

“Simon.”

No.

The repetition was maddening. I stood. “Then what was the point of bringing me here?”

To determine whether you would accept a conclusion simply because I supplied it.

“I wouldn’t.”

I know.

“Then tell me and let me verify it.”

Not yet.

My temper snapped. “You do not get to drag me into an empty building at midnight, interrogate me about my childhood and my sex life, tell me two people close to this case were murdered by someone else, claim you know who did it, and then decide I haven’t earned the answer.”

The cursor remained still.

I planted both palms on the desk. “This is not your investigation.”