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“My mother was always telling my sister that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach,” Matt said.
“That would be useful information,” Susan replied, “presuming one was looking for the way to a man’s heart. Did your sister pay attention?”
“Of course.”
“Well, perhaps she saw her future as a wife and homemaker.”
“As opposed to doing something useful—say, being a social worker?”
“Something like that. Nothing wrong with being a wife and homemaker, of course. Each to his own,” Susan said.
“Actually, my sister is a physician. A psychiatrist, as a matter of fact,” Matt said.
“He got you, Princess!” Mr. Reynolds said, obviously pleased.
Susan smiled.
What is that, Susie, the smile to freeze a volcano?
Mr. Reynolds filled their glasses.
“To friends old and new,” he said, raising his.
He consulted his watch, had another sip of wine, consulted his watch again, and, the requisite five minutes apparently having passed, skillfully sliced the London broil with an enormous French chef’s knife.
The meat was perfectly done, and Matt said so.
“What I was saying before, Matt. Solve a problem, file the answer away for future use, and go on to the next problem.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Daddy,” Susan said, “I was just thinking. I’m sure Matt—he’s here working, not on vacation—doesn’t want to make a long evening of it.”
“I get by on very little sleep, actually,” Matt said.
“And,” Susan went on, ignoring him, “he doesn’t know where the club is. What I was thinking, Daddy, was that after dinner, he could follow me there in his car, we could have our coffee there, and he would know how to find the club.”
“Good idea,” her father said. “How’s that sound to you, Matt?”
“Sounds fine to me,” Matt said.
“Then it’s done,” Reynolds said. “On to the next problem to be solved, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Matt, you haven’t told us what you’re doing in Harrisburg,” Mrs. Reynolds said.
“No, I guess I haven’t,” Matt said.
Reynolds laughed.
“I didn’t mean to be nosy,” Mrs. Reynolds said in a hurt tone.
“I’m looking for ill-gotten gains,” Matt said.
“If I didn’t think you’d think me nosy, I’d ask what that means,” Mrs. Reynolds asked.
“There was a police officer in Philadelphia who took money he shouldn’t have taken,” Matt said. “We suspect he may have hidden it up here.”
