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The Investigators (Badge of Honor 7)

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“Jesus Christ!” Susan said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Susie!” her mother said, in shock.

“If you’re going to blaspheme like that, Susie, we’ll just have to call the whole thing off,” Matt said piously.

Susan’s father laughed, and her mother looked confused.

“I should have warned you, Daddy, he’s an idiot.”

“So far, I like him.”

“Daddy, could I have a scotch?” Susan said.

“Well, as Mommy said, this is an occasion,” he said. “Why not?”

“Give her a weak one,” Matt ordered, “And only one. Two drinks and she’ll want to stay up until the sun comes up.”>

“Is that what really happened?” Mrs. Reynolds asked. “Susie had too much to drink?”

“I did not,” Susan protested automatically.

“How much?” Mommy demanded to know.

“Not much, really,” Matt said, “I mean, after the mar tinis—and, of course, the champagne—at Daffy’s, all you had was a couple of tequila surprises in the Mexican place, and then no more than three, well, maybe four, beers in the Dixieland place.”

“What’s a ‘tequila surprise’?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.

“They call them that because after the second tequila surprise, nothing surprises you,” Matt said seriously.

“Mommy,” Susan protested. “He’s pulling your leg.”

If I called Mother “Mommy,” she’d throw up.

“I didn’t believe him for a second,” Mrs. Reynolds said.

“Are you a golfer, Matt?” Mr. Reynolds asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you bring your clubs?”

“No, sir.”

“What I was thinking was that I could call the club, and get you a guest membership while you’re here.”

“That would be very kind of you, sir.”

“How long will you be here?”

“That’ll depend on how long it takes me to get what I’m after. A week, or ten days, anyway.”

“Then I’ll call the club and set you up,” Reynolds said.

A middle-aged woman in a black dress with a white maid’s apron appeared in the door.

“Anytime you’re ready, Mrs. Reynolds,” she announced.

“Thank you, Harriet,” Mr. Reynolds said. “We’ll be right in.”



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