We need insurance. I think you know what I mean, just like last time.”“Ok, ok, just…” Alex appeared nervous. “Stacey, hop up, let me take...a look at your ankle. I assume you're here to follow up?” Both guys leaned against a counter, arms folded, with shit-eating grins. “How does it feel?” She asked, checking the ankle muscles with both hands. “Much much better.”“Stacey, I find myself in a pickle here,” her hands moved up her calves then thighs, then under her shorts. “These two handsome. Good God in heaven, look at all that damn lard on her fat ass.”“Who was she, Coon?” Eli asked.“Betsy Morton. They called her Sweet Meat.”“What about that name, Duncan?”“Never heard of her.”“Who was the owner here, Coon? I heard that woman call him Lester.”“Lester Beeman.”“Damn Eli, now I’ve heard about him. He was wanted in Kansas for raiding, raping, and taking young women and girls for his whores down here in The Territory.”“What about the one you waylaid out back, you know him?”“No, never. More

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