The house was larger inside than it had appeared from the outside. The entrance foyer was large, and stairways on either side of it rose to a second-floor balcony.
The butler led him to a set of double doors under the balcony and opened one of them.
“Mr. Payne, sir,” he announced, and waved Matt inside.
Inside looked like a combination living room and library. Three of the walls held ceiling-high bookcases. The fourth was a wall of sliding glass doors opening onto a patio. Beyond the patio was a lawn stretching down to what Matt supposed was the Susquehanna River.
A stocky, blond-haired man in his fifties, in a well-tailored double-breasted nearly black suit, rose from what looked like his chair and advanced on Matt with his hand extended.
“Matt Payne, I presume?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you see the movie?”
“Sir?”
“ ‘Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner’?”
“Let me clear the air,” Matt said. “All I want is a free meal.”
Thomas Reynolds laughed.
“Is taking a little nip among your vices?”
“Among my lesser vices, yes, sir.”
“I was about to make myself another,” Reynolds said, taking Matt’s arm and leading him to a sideboard laid out with bottles and cocktail-hour impedimenta. “What’s your pleasure?”
“A little of that Famous Grouse would go down nicely, thank you.”
“The same family’s been making that stuff for six generations. Did you know that?”
“No, sir.”
“I’ve been drinking it since college,” Reynolds said as he poured.
“So has my father,” Matt said. “That’s why I drink it, I suppose.”
Reynolds handed Matt a glass.
“There’s ice and water and soda,” he said.
“A little water, please,” Matt said.
When that was done, Reynolds tapped his glass against Matt’s.
“Welcome,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“I admire your courage.”
“Excuse me?”
“Didn’t Susie tell you her mother is furious?”
“Oh. Well, my conscience is clear. I wasn’t the one supposed to call home.”