“That would be great,” he said.

She sighed. “I think I could love you, Matt.”

“I feel the same way,” he replied, the worst lie of all. He had to get off the phone before he caused more harm. “I better go.”

He sounded too abrupt. He should not appear conflicted.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Matt?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

They exchanged goodbyes. Time to start the long day.

NOW IT was time to change into his alter ego, Simon Schiller. The transformation took several steps. First, he had to get his other car, an old Honda Civic that he had registered two months ago under that name. The vehicle was parked five blocks from his apartment—at present—although he seldom left it in the same place twice in a row. In the car he kept his disguise: a blond wig, mustache, beard, and green contact lenses. Plus he had a makeup kit. When he walked the world as Simon, he gave his skin a deep tan. It was incredible how powerful the simple disguise was. With sunglasses on, his own mother wouldn’t have recognized him.

The morning air was brisk, February’s gray hand. He walked the empty streets and tried not to think. Every detail of his plan had been worked out long ago. The only thing that could sabotage it now was a failure of will. However, pain over Amy’s betrayal dogged his steps. He did not have to contemplate the actual atrocities she had committed to feel it. He merely had to exist for the pain to exist. In the end that was why he had formulated his plan. He could not go on living without seeking retribution.

But what happened if the pain did not stop when he finally had his revenge?

A question he preferred not to dwell on.

Once at the car, he drove to a deserted supermarket parking lot and applied his disguise. He had bought the stuff at—literally—a disguise shop in Hollywood. The beard adhesive gave him an itch. Later, he would have to grow a full beard to take the place of the disguise. It was the small things that could destroy his plan. But he was practiced at being Simon Schiller. The disguise took him less than fifteen minutes to put on.

His next destination was the marina, a few miles south. The day’s schedule was tight. Nevertheless, he swung north toward Brentwood, where Amy and her husband lived. A nice house bought with real money. David had purchased her as well.

Or at least that was Matt’s main rationalization for why she had betrayed him.