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“I like pie.”
Cody blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Pie.”
“Apple or cherry?” Cody replied.
“Pi, as the measure of circumference,” came the reply. “I love physics. Hate women.”
“In that case,” Cody said, “welcome to Catelow. And if you’d like to repeat that phrase to Miss Corrie, Miss Brennan, and any other potential conquest, I know the undersheriff and I would be happy to take you out for a hamburger and fries.”
The chuckle was uninhibited. “I’d like to come and see you in the morning. You might caution any women friends to avoid the office until after I leave. I mean, having them hang onto my ankles as I go out through doors is really very embarrassing.”
“Interesting how your father is as sober as a judge, from what I’ve been told,” Cody said.
“We’re not much alike. Now my sister takes after him, but she works in an office from nine to five. I’d go nuts.”
Cody chuckled. “Me, too. It’s why I love this job.” He sobered. “Not a bad idea, having Mr. Whatley inside for a while.”
“It was the best idea I could come up with, after your undersheriff and I put our heads together,” the other man replied quietly. “He seems like a sweet man. A little challenged, sort of a living-in-the-clouds mentality, but not dangerous to anyone. I liked his sister, too.”
“You’ve been to Florida?”
“No, I spoke to her on the phone earlier. She’s livid about his arrest. And I had to leave her that way. We can’t have her spilling the beans to her significant other until we can nail him for murder.”
“I like the way you think.”
“Tell my dad. Please. He thinks I’m five degrees off-center.” He paused. “He’s probably right.”
Cody thought about that.
“I’d like to come and visit you in the morning,” Lassiter continued. “Could you have one of your squad cars pick me up?”
“Where are you?” Cody asked.
“At the Three Rings Motel.”
“That’s about half a block from here...”
Lassiter agreed. “Yes, it is. And I’d like your deputy to handcuff me. I’ll make a fuss. You know, I’m not guilty of anything, I’m just passing through, why are you harassing me? That sort of thing.”
“Why would I want to handcuff you?” Cody was all at sea.
“So I’ll have a reason to call Nita Whatley back and tell her that her poor brother’s locked up and so am I, and I was only trying to help him out.”
“Okay, I’m getting a serious headache,” Cody began.
“I’m going to have her tell me about her boyfriend and then I’m going to suggest that I might know a way to have her brother give up his claim to the family fortune. Well, for a cut, you know. I can say that Mr. Whatley told me all about his mental challenges and his sister, and how her boyfriend is going to take care of her so her brother won’t worry.”
“Man, you should write fiction,” Cody said when Lassiter finished.
“Never works. I’m left-brained. Too much theory and exposition to make a good writer. I know one. My best friend’s mother. She’s about twenty degrees west of center, but she has a mind like a steel trap. She plays video games, rides condemned roller coasters, and drives a Jaguar sedan so fast that she’s set a new record for speeding tickets in her county.”
Cody burst out laughing. “Why couldn’t I meet a woman like that?” he asked.
“Well, she’s seventy-four...” Lassiter said slowly.
Cody laughed harder.
