Frazer looked through into the living room. Empty Lone Star beer cans took up every square inch of table space in the room. More empty cans littered the floor. There was an empty Jim Beam bottle beside the phone among more beer cans.
“Well,” he said. “I like what you’ve done with the place. I’d never have thought of decorating the house with empty beer cans and liquor bottles.”
“If you’re just going to insult my interior decorating, I’m not going to invite you out here no more,” Owen said.
“You didn’t invite me this time,” Frazer said.
“Well, that’s true.”
Owen sat with his elbows on the table and his hands folded together. Frazer watched him."
“I hope you didn’t drive all the way out here to offer me a job,” Owen said. “If so, you wasted your time.”
“I wanted to talk something over with you,” Frazer said.
“I might not want to hear it.”
“It’s important to me. Do you want to hear it?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
“I’ve got the cancer. It’s pretty bad. Next week I’m going down to Houston to get it worked on. I’ve got nine months left on my term as sheriff. But the doctors have been clear about it. I won’t be fit for the job once they get through with me.”
“That bad?” Owen said.
“If it’s not bad, it will do until the bad gets here,” Frazer said.
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