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you, Hap, folks nowadays ain't worth shit.   Don't care nothin' about nobody's feelings but their own."
     
    "You're right, Gus."   Hap sighed and slapped the deputy on the shoulder.   "Say, when you get off duty, come have a beer on the house."
     
    Bowie was impressed by Hap's diplomacy as he steered the deputy out of the storeroom and through the empty bar, expounding as he went on the sad state of the world.
     
    Bowie lay back down on the sleeping bag, stacked his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling.   Cobwebs formed an intricate canopy across the bare beams.   As Bowie watched, an industrious spider added to it.
     
    Momentarily Hap returned.   Taking a seat on a case of Beefeater's, he lit a cigarette, then offered one to Bowie, who accepted and tipped his head forward as Hap lit it for him.   They smoked in companionable silence.   Finally Hap said, "Might ought to think about looking for another job."
     
    Bowie propped himself up on one elbow.   He wasn't surprised, but he wasn't going to take the news lying down literally.   "You firing me, Hap?"
     
    "Not outright, no."
     
    "I had nothing to do with that bitch."
     
    "I know."
     
    "Then why am I catching the flap?   Who is she anyway?   You'd think by the way y'all talked about her that she's the Queen of Sheba."
     
    Hap chuckled.   "To her husband she is.   Fergus Winston is superintendent of our school system.   Owns a motel on the other end of town and does pretty good with it.   He's 'bout twenty years older than Darcy.   Ugly as a mud fence and not too bright.   Folks figure she married him for his money.   Who knows?"   He shrugged philosophically.
     
    "All I know is, anytime Darcy can shake Fergus, she's out here looking for action.   Hot little piece," he added without rancor.   "Had her myself a time or two.   Years back when we were just kids."   He pointed the lighted end of his cigarette toward Bowie.   "If a thief did break into her bedroom last night, she might have shot him for not raping her."
     
    Bowie shared a laugh with him, but the humor was short-lived.
     
    "Why are you letting me go, Hap?"
     
    "For your own good."
     
    "As long as I don't personally serve liquor, my parole officer said
    "It's not that.   You do the work I hired you for."   He regarded Bowie through world-weary eyes.   "I run a fairly clean place, but lots of lowlifes come through the door every night.   Anything can happen and sometimes does.   Take my advice and find a place to work where you ain't so likely to run into trouble.   Understand?"
     
    Bowie understood.   It was the story of his life.   He just seemed to attract trouble no matter what he did or didn't do; and an honest, hardworking sort like Hap Hollister didn't need a natural-born troublemaker working in his bar.   Resignedly he said, "Employers ain't exactly lining up to offer jobs to ex-cons.   Can you give me a few days?"
     
    Hap nodded.   Until you find something else you can bunk here.
     
    Use my pickup to get around if you need to."   Hap anchored his cigarette in the corner of his lips as he stood.   Well, I got a stack of bills to pay.   Don't be in a hurry to get up.   You had a short night."
     
    Left alone, Bowie lay down again but knew he wouldn't go back to sleep.
     
    From the start he'd known that there was little future in working at The Palm, but the job had also provided lodging.   He had thought hoped that it would be a temporary respite, like a halfway house between prison and life on the outside.   But no.   Thanks to a broad he didn't even know, and to some son of a bitch committing a B and E, he was back to square zero.
     
    Where he'd been stuck all his life. chapter three.
     
    Joty Tackett and her son gazed at each other across the distance that separated them.   It was a gulf that hadn't been spanned in thirty-six years, and Key doubted it ever would be.
     
    He forced a smile.   "Hi, jody."   He'd stopped using any