13
JACK
I checked us into the McDermott, the nicest hotel in Butte. Hell, it was the nicest hotel in the west. The man at the counter had eyed me, scared and in awe. I had yet to shave, I hadn’t slept and I was randy as hell for my wife.
“He’s not an outlaw,” Lily told him, her tone sharp. She looked like she’d spent the week with a den of bears. Even so, she looked down her nose at the snooty man and I wanted to f**k her all the more for it. “He’s my husband.”
That must have snapped the man out of his stupor, for he smiled at me—albeit brittlely—and offered us the key to the finest suite. “Thank you for bringing Bert Benson to justice.”
Before the bellhop led us to our room, Jack told the man, “Charge the room to Mr. Finnemann with the newspaper.”
Once the door to the suite was clos
