“Is this recreational for you? A kind of sport? Some guys—normal guys, one might argue—like the feel of a hefty rifle in their hands. They take that rifle out into the woods and bam. They shoot a rabbit, a deer. Some of them, maybe the ones who are slightly departed from our societal perception of what is ‘normal,’ will take the animal to someone. Have it cleaned, stuffed, preserved. You’re not a killer, not to my knowledge, but like those hunters, you take something from these girls that they can’t get back. Something intangible yet horrifyingly profound. I guess I should be counting my lucky stars that you don’t have their heads mounted on your wall.”
“The names, the alphabetization. Why?”
It was something that had disturbed and stumped her in equal measure and his lengthy pause told her everything she needed to know. Whatever answer he gave would not reflect the truth.
“I know how it comes across. This isn’t some deeply layered thing for you to look into. In the past, I’ve been reckless, and I knew when I was hired at the university I needed to exercise caution. As far as the organization goes—” A line formed at one corner of his mouth, revealing nothing more than his brief deliberation. “It was a way of indulging without overindulging.”
“Is that all I was to you? An indulgence?” She hated the weakness invading her tone yet could not disguise it. “Don’t answer that.”
She couldn’t even hide the hurt from herself as her heart compressed to fatal dimensions. More than anything, she wanted to believe the guilt and grief plastered on Dayton’s face, but an irrefutable truth cut that hope down to size.
Nothing would ever fully restore her trust in him.
“Did you kill Bella McAnders?” It came out as a whisper, the ugliest word uttered the softest.
“You think because I fucked her, I killed her?”
“Oh, and she just happened to die three days after you slept together?”
“Bella was sick. She died by suicide.”
“You were her doctor. You were supposed tohelpher.”
“I can’t help those who don’t want to be helped. She chose to end her sessions with me, against my advice. I think she’d made up her mind about ending her life long before she walked into my office.”
The waiter returned and though she insisted she’d lost her appetite, Dayton ordered for her anyway, raving under his breath about how much he adored the rabbit liver parfait.
She thought he was joking until a plate was set before them with grilled slices of baguette and a small jar of what, at first glance, appeared to be a sauce, darkened caramel in color, but she knew it was the grotesque ‘parfait,’ as he’d put it.
He slid closer to her in the booth and she made no bid to distance herself from him. His cologne saturated the air and she was pleased to note the usual underlying trace of marijuana was absent. Propping an elbow on the table, his fingers sank into his near shoulder-length hair. Dayton was masterful in his attentiveness, void of expression as he stared at her, exuding only patience. Her insides vibrated at having him near but it killed her to focus on his face so she zeroed in on the water.
The absence of alcohol in his cup reawakened a troubling duplicity: her capacity to both despise and be concerned for him.
He spoke, low and gentle. Just for her.
“I want to stand by my promise. Whatever questions you have, I’ll answer them as best as I can.”
As much as she wanted to dissect the meaning behind the statement, she refrained from doing so. “Does your sudden aversion to vodka have anything to do with your cardiology appointment?”
“Not exactly. My doctor has always advised that I abstain from drinking but I also have a long history of being a disobedient patient. Until recently, I didn’t have a reason to care.”
She inferred she was the reason and every bit of color promptly fled her face, leaving her with an uncomely complexion. Her mind was all over the place. Fragments of thoughts scattered like a sea of broken glass.
Intoxication precluded her from focusing on his answer long before moving on to the next question. “Your scars, did you really get them from a car accident?”
“Yes.”
“When I first came to you with my mentorship, why did you turn me away?”
“I sent you away because I knew you’d be back.” His insidious eyes burned with honesty and he held her there in those black pools. “It set a precedent. I didn’t want things to be easy between us.”
She became hyperaware of the blood coursing through her veins. That warm stream of vitality. She had been a target to him from day one. How did he view her now, she wondered, a loose end?
“Who was that woman driving your car?”
The laugh that escaped his lips took her by surprise. “That would be Carmen.”
“And you find this funny, why?”