Wallace Shaw’s cremation odor clung to Bel Martin as Bel hurried away from the temple. Damn Wallace for dying and damn his funeral instructions. The west Texas sun made Bel sweat, mingling his own odor with the incense from the temple. Worse, as he reached the basement office he had shared with Wallace, two women were waiting for him on the stoop.
“I’m sorry,” Bel said. “Shaw & Martin Anterior Views is out of business. Wallace Shaw died this morning.”