Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth

Chapter 7: Devil's Feast

The young woman at the restaurant squinted as she examined the four by five Polaroid in Lassiter's hand.

“Are you...”

“Are you sure this is the guy you saw?”

“Henry, I swear I will lock you in my trunk...”

Ignoring him, the elder Spencer twin leaned forward as he snatched the photograph from Lassiter's fingers and held it out to the girl. “Get a good look, Miss Hernandez. This was the man you saw on Wednesday the fourth?”

Lassiter held back his rant as sweet little Debbi tilted her head and dropped a fist to rest on her hip. “Yeah, that's the guy. He asked me if he could get a breakfast burrito with Lucky Charms and Greek yogurt.”

Henry grimaced. “Yeah, that's him.”

Taking the opportunity while the other man was reclaiming the picture, Lassiter also leaned in and dragged the soft brown eyes his way. “Did you...”

“Did you happen to see what time he left that night?”

The twitch in his cheek was the only thing to indicate he'd just bit into his tongue as the detective restrained every muscle in his body from digging out his handcuffs and tossing the old coot in the back of his car. For not the first time he regretted not having his new vehicle outfitted with a cage. The wrinkled buzzard hadn't changed his ways with his new position at the station – a hiring choice that had motivated Lassiter had actually type out a written letter of protest. Just because the man had wriggled his way off of the Crap List for one act of humanitarianism didn't mean there wasn't space to add him right back on. There were a lot of pages in that notepad and plenty of room on the backup flash disk too.

Inner musing didn't short out his hearing and Lassiter tuned back into the conversation as the waitress rolled her eyes at the question she'd been asked.

“Yeah – I thought for certain he was actually interested in getting together after I clocked out, but instead he just got wasted on cocktails and his friend had to practically carry him out.”

“Friend?” The single word question was the only one that Lassiter actually managed to ask – the follow up confirmation, of course, overtaken by his unwelcome and very temporary partner.

“You mean this man?” How many pictures was Spencer carrying in his wallet anyhow? Whipping out a folded article, he pointed to his son's grinning sidekick as the two of them posed outside their business.

Debbi with an i only glanced at the picture for a second this time before shaking her head.

No, he was a white guy; tall and kinda big – maybe around forty? I don't know, I was at another table when they went out.”

Henry tapped the folded paper against his hand. “Do you think you could describe him for a sketch artist?”