“Hah!” She put the wok in the sink and let the water run on it. “Since when has Kyle ever owned anything that was cheap?”

He nodded vaguely. “The only other time he came up to this house was two years ago to show off that goddamn yellow Porsche he’d gotten with his Wall Street bonus. Now it’s a pricey BSA. Jesus.”

“You’re his father.”

“Meaning what?”

Madeleine sighed, looking at him with an odd combination of exasperation and sympathy. “Isn’t it obvious? He wants you to be proud of him. Granted, he goes about it in a way that doesn’t work. You two don’t know each other very well, do you?”

“I guess not.” He watched her put the baking dish into the oven. “This glittery, luxury stuff … all this brand-name crap … it just brings back too many memories of that materialistic gene he inherited from his real-estate-broker mother. She was great at making money, even better at spending it. Kept telling me I was wasting my time as a cop, I should go to law school, because there was a lot more money in defending criminals than in catching them. So now Kyle’s in law school. Ought to make her happy.”

“Are you angry because you think he wants to defend criminals?”

“I’m not angry.”

She shot him a disbelieving glance.

“Maybe I am angry. I don’t know what I am. Seems like everything is getting on my nerves lately.”

Madeleine shrugged. “Make sure you remember it’s your son who came to see you today, not your ex-wife.”

“Right. I just wish that—”

He was interrupted by the sound of the side door opening, followed by Kim’s excited voice in the hallway. “No way, that’s much too weird! I mean, that’s like the single sickest thing I ever heard!”

Kyle came into the kitchen first, smiling broadly. “Hey, Dad! Good to see you!”

They greeted each other with awkward hugs.

“Good to see you, too, son. Kind of a long trip up here on that bike, wasn’t it?”

“It was perfect, actually. Traffic was light on 17, and from 17 to here the roads are ideal for a bike. How do you like it?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one that looked that good.”

“Me neither. I love it. You used to have a bike like that, right?”

“Not that sharp.”

“I hope I can keep it like that. I just got it two weeks ago at the Atlantic City Classic Motorcycle Show. Hadn’t planned on buying anything, but I couldn’t resist. Never saw one that nice—not even the one my boss has.”

“Your boss?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of half back on the Street, working part-time for some guys from the old firm that went under.”

“But you’re still at Columbia?”