might understand.”
“I don’t. I don’t understand. I’m sorry. I think you’ve developed a bogus moral code, a story you tell yourself so that you can do what it is that you like to do. You like to kill people. It’s obvious.”
“I do,” he said. “I like to kill people.” A shiver went over Matthew’s skin, a ripple starting at his back and going up to the base of his skull. It felt so good to say the words. “I would never pretend that it isn’t part of it. I’m not delusional.”
Hen sighed. “I think I should go.”
“Don’t you like it when you’ve created a piece of art? Something disturbing. Doesn’t it give you a perverse thrill?”
“It’s entirely different. My art doesn’t hurt people. It’s just art.”
“It’s not just art, really, though, is it? It’s revealing a part of yourself.”
Hen rapidly shook her head. “All it’s revealing is my imagination, something entirely removed from reality. I can separate the two, and you can’t. That’s the difference between us.”
“Okay,” Matthew said. “Think about what I’ve said, though. You’d probably like killing, if you ever tried it.”
“I wouldn’t, trust me.”
“Are you going to tell the police what I said today?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“They won’t believe you.”
“I know that, but I think you’re going to get caught. And when they do catch you, I’ll go to them and tell them everything.”
“Does your husband know we’re meeting here today?”
“I’ll probably tell him about it,” Hen said, and Matthew thought it was the first time she’d lied since sitting down across from him.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” Matthew said, and then witnessed a look of concern pass across Hen’s features. “No, don’t worry. I have no designs on Lloyd, but, still, he doesn’t deserve you.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“He came to my house for dinner. I watched him, and I could tell that he has no real moral compass. Whenever Mira left the dining room or came back in, he watched the way she moved. He probably imagined having sex with her.”
“Jesus. All right, I should go.” Hen slid along the booth.
“Can I ask you one thing? When you first got involved with him, was he with someone else?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Clearly, he was. People don’t change, Hen. He’s cheating on you, but you probably already knew that.”
Chapter 26
Hen had felt an array of emotions since sitting down at the Winner’s Circle with Matthew Dolamore, but suddenly she felt real anger. All that bullshit philosophy about her artwork, and now it seemed like he was accusing (threatening?) Lloyd.
She stood. “Fuck you, Matthew,” she said. “You’re not anyone’s savior, trust me on that.”
“I’m not saying I’m a savior, just that your husband is probably not what he seems.”
“What does that have to do with you?”
“Nothing,” Matthew said. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
She left the bar, not realizing how dark it had been in there until she punched her way back out into the light of late afternoon. Wind was whipping leaves and trash around the parking lot. She got into her car and pulled out onto 117. The song she’d been listening to when she parked in front of the bar—“Shiver” by Lucy Rose—started up again. She slid the volume down, wanting a moment to digest the conversation she’d just had. Going over Matthew’s words in her mind, she kept wondering if he’d given her anything, any piece of information, that would be worth bringing to the police. She knew they wouldn’t believe her outright if she told them everything he’d said, but what if she had some solid evidence? But no, the more she thought about it, he just talked about his philosophical reasons for killing. If only she had figured out a way to record him—she’d definitely thought about it—then this would all be over. He wanted to talk. And it was clear that he also wanted to impress Hen, to intrigue her, maybe even to make her see life the way he saw it. And what was that shit about Lloyd? She thought back to the night they’d all had dinner together, tried to remember if she’d noticed Lloyd checking Mira out. She had no recollection of that. She did know that he looked at other women, which was 100 percent fine with her. She was more comfortable with his telling her that he was attracted to other women than she’d be if he told her he wasn’t. Still, why was Matthew so confident that Lloyd was a cheater?
A horn blared behind her,