working for Jasper Millard. He's one of the most powerful men in New Orleans."
"Him and that fella Royale, huh?"
A tiny shudder ran through Annie's body. "Don't even talk about Royale. He... he frightens me."
"But you don't have any real connection with Millard except patronizing his club, do you?" asked Longarm.
"No, of course not, but you saw what happened tonight. As long as Jasper and Royale are at each other's throat, no one in New Orleans is really safe."
She had a point, thought Longarm. He had seen other towns where two or more factions of owlhoots had been feuding, and what usually happened was that more innocent folks were killed in the fighting than members of the opposing outlaw gangs. It was the same here in New Orleans. Everyone was at risk while the war between Millard and Royale continued.
He would just have to see what he could do about that, Longarm decided. Though his real job was to find out who killed Douglas Ramsey, maybe at the same time he could bust up the smuggling rings and put an end to the rivalry between Millard and Royale. Of course, somebody else would probably just come along and take their places later, but that was out of Longarm's hands. He couldn't be responsible for ridding the world of all its crooks and killers.
After a few minutes, the carriage reached Chartres Street and rolled through an open gate of black wrought iron onto a circular drive paved with flagstones. It led up to the entrance of a large, three-story brick house. Wooden pillars bordered a veranda that ran the length of the house. The pillars supported a balcony with moss dripping from its railing. The mansion was old but well kept, Longarm saw with a glance as the carriage came to a stop.
He opened the door and stepped down, then turned back to assist Annie. As she took his hand, she whispered, "Come in with me."
Longarm wasn't particularly surprised. All during the carriage ride, if not before that, he had been able to tell that Annie was attracted to him. The feeling was mutual. But he murmured softly, "I told the driver to take me back to the hotel."
"Ask him to return to the Brass Pelican and wait for Paul," she said. "Tell him that you will walk back to the St. Charles."
The lie seemed pretty apparent to Longarm, but at least it would allow Annie to keep up appearances. He moved to the front of the carriage and looked up at the driver. "You can head on back to the club and wait for Mr. Clement, old son," he told the man. "It's a nice night, so I think I'll walk over to my hotel from here."
"As you wish, suh," said the driver as he took up his reins once more. "Good evenin' to yuh."
With a gentle flick of the reins, the driver got the team moving again, and the carriage rolled on around the drive and back through the gate onto Chartres Street. Longarm turned around and looked at Annie, who was standing at the door underneath the small lamp that had been left burning there. In its soft yellow glow, she looked incredibly lovely. She lifted a hand, held it out toward Longarm.
He went to her, clasping her hand, and she led him into the house.
Inside, the mansion matched its opulent exterior. Hand in hand, Longarm and Annie moved through a foyer with gilt-edged mirrors on both walls that opened into a large, airy room with a high ceiling. When Longarm glanced up, he saw that the chamber extended all the way to a large domed skylight in the mansion's roof. A curving staircase with an alabaster rail led up to a balcony that ran completely around the center of the room. He could see a third-floor balcony as well. Annie tugged him toward the stairs, a little impatient now.
"I thought I was supposed to walk back to the St. Charles," he said dryly.
"Don't toy with me, Custis," she said. "We both know why I asked you to come in. My bedroom is on the third floor."
"Usually in cases like this, it's the lady who says something about how things are moving sort of fast."
She laughed, a liquid, sensual sound. "As I
"Him and that fella Royale, huh?"
A tiny shudder ran through Annie's body. "Don't even talk about Royale. He... he frightens me."
"But you don't have any real connection with Millard except patronizing his club, do you?" asked Longarm.
"No, of course not, but you saw what happened tonight. As long as Jasper and Royale are at each other's throat, no one in New Orleans is really safe."
She had a point, thought Longarm. He had seen other towns where two or more factions of owlhoots had been feuding, and what usually happened was that more innocent folks were killed in the fighting than members of the opposing outlaw gangs. It was the same here in New Orleans. Everyone was at risk while the war between Millard and Royale continued.
He would just have to see what he could do about that, Longarm decided. Though his real job was to find out who killed Douglas Ramsey, maybe at the same time he could bust up the smuggling rings and put an end to the rivalry between Millard and Royale. Of course, somebody else would probably just come along and take their places later, but that was out of Longarm's hands. He couldn't be responsible for ridding the world of all its crooks and killers.
After a few minutes, the carriage reached Chartres Street and rolled through an open gate of black wrought iron onto a circular drive paved with flagstones. It led up to the entrance of a large, three-story brick house. Wooden pillars bordered a veranda that ran the length of the house. The pillars supported a balcony with moss dripping from its railing. The mansion was old but well kept, Longarm saw with a glance as the carriage came to a stop.
He opened the door and stepped down, then turned back to assist Annie. As she took his hand, she whispered, "Come in with me."
Longarm wasn't particularly surprised. All during the carriage ride, if not before that, he had been able to tell that Annie was attracted to him. The feeling was mutual. But he murmured softly, "I told the driver to take me back to the hotel."
"Ask him to return to the Brass Pelican and wait for Paul," she said. "Tell him that you will walk back to the St. Charles."
The lie seemed pretty apparent to Longarm, but at least it would allow Annie to keep up appearances. He moved to the front of the carriage and looked up at the driver. "You can head on back to the club and wait for Mr. Clement, old son," he told the man. "It's a nice night, so I think I'll walk over to my hotel from here."
"As you wish, suh," said the driver as he took up his reins once more. "Good evenin' to yuh."
With a gentle flick of the reins, the driver got the team moving again, and the carriage rolled on around the drive and back through the gate onto Chartres Street. Longarm turned around and looked at Annie, who was standing at the door underneath the small lamp that had been left burning there. In its soft yellow glow, she looked incredibly lovely. She lifted a hand, held it out toward Longarm.
He went to her, clasping her hand, and she led him into the house.
Inside, the mansion matched its opulent exterior. Hand in hand, Longarm and Annie moved through a foyer with gilt-edged mirrors on both walls that opened into a large, airy room with a high ceiling. When Longarm glanced up, he saw that the chamber extended all the way to a large domed skylight in the mansion's roof. A curving staircase with an alabaster rail led up to a balcony that ran completely around the center of the room. He could see a third-floor balcony as well. Annie tugged him toward the stairs, a little impatient now.
"I thought I was supposed to walk back to the St. Charles," he said dryly.
"Don't toy with me, Custis," she said. "We both know why I asked you to come in. My bedroom is on the third floor."
"Usually in cases like this, it's the lady who says something about how things are moving sort of fast."
She laughed, a liquid, sensual sound. "As I
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