He often wore a pistol in a hip holster, usuallyunloaded but it still fit the image of a frontier sheriff or somethinglike that. He even called himsel... the Sheriff of his little town,which consisted of the motel and nothing more.Owen's motel was fun for us k**s but Dad worried about us being arounda "kook" like the Sheriff. Owen would go on about commies running thegovernment and how we'd all be safe away from the cities when the "BigOne" came. I didn't care about that stuff, though and just. "He, he probably has something else planned. It he can come, we'll just, you know, see what happens, I suppose. But you call. I've told him all about you." Clay reached Reggie in his hotel room. "Reggie? I'm Donna Faircloth's one-eyed husband, Clay." There was a pause, then Clay laughed. "Oh, I agree. Two are such a waste. Look, I wanted to thank you for sending her home throwing off her clothes and good vibes." After another pause, he continued. "And you provide a very fine service, believe. More

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