“Good. So’s mine,” Matt said.
He politely gestured for Susan to precede him out of the bar.
When they were in the parking lot, Matthews pointed at his car. Matt nodded.
Matt led Matthews to his unmarked Plymouth, unlocked the trunk, opened it, handed the keys to Susan, and then reached inside and came out with a briefcase.
“What’s that?” Matthews asked.
“It’s a briefcase full of money, Jack,” Matt said. “Let’s go sit in your car.”
Matthews’s eyebrows rose high in exasperation.
They walked to his car, a new Chevrolet four-door sedan with Maryland license plates.
“What’s with the Maryland plates?” Matt asked.
“My car collapsed,” Matthews said. “I borrowed this one.”
He unlocked the car, Matt got in the front seat and Susan in back.
“Okay, Matt, now what the hell is going on?”
“To answer the question I am sure is foremost in your mind, Jack: Yes, Miss Reynolds and I are emotionally involved.”
“Oh, my God!”
“Keep that in mind. It bears very heavily on all of this.”
“Matt, I’m going to have to report that,” Matthews said. “Jesus Christ! I can’t believe this, even of you!”
“You’re going to have a lot to report,” Matt said, then pushed the briefcase across the seat to him. “I transfer to your custody, Agent Matthews, preserving the chain of evidence, one leather briefcase.”
“What’s in that?” Matthews asked, not touching it.
“Said briefcase was given to me by Miss Susan Reynolds,” Matt said. “It contains a sum of money given into Miss Reynolds’s custody by one Jennifer Ollwood.”
Matthews looked over the seat back at Susan.
“On several occasions, Miss Ollwood has told Miss Reynolds that she fears for her life, and for that of her infant son—”
“What infant son?”
“Miss Ollwood has borne a son to Mr. Bryan Chenowith,” Matt said. “Mr. Chenowith, of course, is a fleeing felon wanted on charges of murder, so Miss Ollwood takes his threats to her and her child quite seriously.”
“What the hell are you up to, Matt? What’s going on?”
“Miss Ollwood has told Miss Reynolds that the monies she placed in Miss Reynolds’s care came into her hands from Mr. Chenowith. Naturally fearing for her own life, Miss Reynolds did nothing about the money until questioned by the authorities—me—whereupon she immediately and unhesitatingly turned the evidence over to me.”
“That’s not going to get her off, Matt,” Matthews said. “If that’s what you’re thinking. They’re going after your girlfriend as an accessory after the fact. The fact that she received what she knew to be stolen property—”
“She didn’t know it was,” Matt said. “All she knew was that it came from Bryan Chenowith. It was not until I suggested to her that it might be the loot—”
“ ‘Might be the loot’? Jesus!”
“—from the banks Chenowith has been knocking off that this occurred to her. She was naturally—being a respectable citizen from a somewhat sheltered background—very distressed to consider that she had been used.”