“You bet. Frankly, I’d rather pour it over my head, but if you insist on manners, I’ll drink it instead.”

“Come into the living room. I’ve got the fan going in there.”

“Sounds good.” Decker sat on the couch, in the indirect path of the turbo engine wind that was rustling the blinds. Lamar brought out two cold Buds and Decker downed half in an intake of breath and forced himself not to chug the other. “Cold…good.”

Lamar took a sip from the bottle. “I’ve got plenty in the fridge.”

“I noticed.”

“You noticed?”

“I checked out the fridge before I went looking for you in the bedrooms. Just to see if the stuff in there was fresh.”

“Thought I might be missing?”

“Missing or moldering in some hidden spot. After my experience with your partner, I was a little nervous.”

“Well, I’m not missing or moldering, just plain hot and sweaty. I was working on the Z out there in the heat. All of a sudden, summer’s here and I’m sweating and heaving and I just wanted to do one last little repair. I think I pushed myself.”

“Not a good idea.”

“No, but after thirty years of being a detective, you learn to do that. Just try one more thing, just check out that one last lead. I started feeling a little faint and decided to take a break. I guess I was way more tired than I thought.”

Decker smiled. “Well, Arnie, it’s good to see you alive.”

Lamar smiled back, took another swig, and leaned back in the chair. “Cal’s gonna have a memorial next week. Did anyone call you?”

“No, but give me the time and place. I’ll be there.”

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel obligated. But Cal’s sons…you mentioned something about wanting an interview. They’ll both be there.”

“And willing to speak with me?”

“I think so.”

“How are they doing?”

“Well, they’re both a bit shook up. I think it’s harder on Cal. Maybe he thinks it’s his fault that Big Cal ate his gun.”

“And that’s the official ruling?” Decker asked him. “That Cal ate his gun?”

“I just assumed…” Lamar leaned forward. “It isn’t?”

“I don’t know. Last I heard, the toxicologist report hadn’t come in, so the pathologist hadn’t come back with an official ruling. Let me ask you something, Arnie. Was Cal suffering from major pain—like back pain or neck pain or…”

“He was old like I am. I’m sure he had some kind of pain somewhere.”

“He had an open bottle of oxycodone at his bedside. It was his name on the prescription, but it had expired over a year ago. Any reason why he’d have it in the first place?”