Laurel put on her headphones and tried to sleep. When she woke, they were past Whitefish and Roth finally admitted they should have waited for the military aircraft she’d requisitioned. That would have flown them straight to Malmstrom and the Air Force would have gotten them to Deweyville from there.

“I just hate those planes,” Roth said.

“You know we’re crawling through this snow because you wanted a hostess?” Laurel said.

They’d flown business class and there was no question the civilian flight was more comfortable.

“I didn’t see you complaining when you were watching your TV show.”

“Movie.”

“Ah yes, Adam Sandler. And they say the golden age of cinema is dead.”

Around Stryker, the snow got so heavy they had to pull over.

“Sure is beautiful country,” Roth said as they sipped lukewarm coffee in a gas station, but it had been dark so long Laurel wasn’t sure he was even fooling himself.

It was after midnight when they finally got to Deweyville. Their hotel was the EconoLodge, a modest, ninety-nine dollar a night place on the main drag that had the only vacancies in town when Laurel made the booking.

“You’re in room 309,” the girl at check-in said and Laurel thought she would physically strangle someone if anything else went wrong that day.

“Room?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We booked two rooms.”

“We only have one,” the girl said, like that ended the conversation.

“But we booked two. I have the thing right here. The confirmation.”

“Well, with the snowstorm and all, we had to make a few accommodations.”

“Accommodations?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What does that mean?”

“We were flooded with last minute requests.”

“And you decided not to hold our booking?”

“Well, technically we only hold bookings until 10 pm. It’s after midnight.”

“Our flight was diverted.”

“If you’d called ahead.”

“Called ahead? We’ve been in the middle of nowhere for six hours. We’re lucky we made it at all.”

The girl looked to Roth for help.

“Come on, Laurel. It will be all right.”

Laurel gave up. “Fine,” she said, picking up her bag. “Are there two beds at least?”

The girl typed on her computer and Laurel already knew by how long it was taking that the answer was no.

“Forget it,” she said.

“I’ll take a cot,” Roth said.

“We’re out of cots,” the girl said.

“The couch then?”

The girl said nothing.

“Come on, Laurel. I’ll be a true gentleman.”

“Don’t touch me,” Laurel said, leading the way to the elevator.

Apart from only having one bed, the room wasn’t that bad. It was basic, but had a coffee machine, a TV, a clean bathroom with hot water.

“There’s no couch,” Roth said.

Laurel threw her bag down. “Surprise, surprise.”

“I’ll keep to my side of the bed.”

Laurel shrugged. “Fine,” she said.