cleaned up," continued Millard. "You could probably use some real sleep too, after spending the night in a tree."
"I am a mite tired," admitted Longarm, although in truth he had slept just fine between bouts of lovemaking with Claudette. "Don't you need me to stay here, though?"
Millard shook his head. "I don't plan to leave the club today, and I'm safe enough here."
"Couldn't prove it by the fella who let me in," Longarm pointed out. "If I'd been working for Royale, you might be dead now."
"Maybe you're right," said Millard. "But I've got more men upstairs. I'll roust them out and put a couple of guards with shotguns on every entrance."
"Wouldn't hurt to have a couple of them right out there in the hall, in front of your door."
"Good idea." Millard stood up. "I'll see to it right now. Why don't you come back over here after supper?"
Longarm nodded. "All right. If you're sure."
"I'm sure. Go on, Parker."
Longarm left the club, hoping that Millard would follow through on those precautions they had discussed. To tell the truth, he really was tired, and he wanted to get out of his dirty clothes. A hot bath, a few hours' sleep, and a fresh outfit would go a long way toward making him feel like a new man.
He hailed one of the hansom cabs and headed for the St. Charles Hotel.
By the time he returned to the Brass Pelican that evening, he did indeed feel positively human again. Well rested, dressed in a clean suit and shirt, he felt as if his adventure in the bayou country was now nothing more than a memory.
But a sweet memory in a lot of ways, he thought as an image of Claudette floated in his mind for a moment.
Now it was time for him to get back to work. There was a new doorman at the entrance of the Brass Pelican, replacing the unfortunate Luther. This man wore a fancy uniform too, but since he was about half Luther's size, Longarm knew it wasn't the same outfit.
The club was busy, though not as packed as it had been two nights earlier before the raid by Royale's men. Such an incident would hurt Millard's business for a time, before everyone forgot about it. Royale might not allow anyone to forget what had happened, thought Longarm. There might be a recurrence at any time.
Paul Clement was bucking the tiger at the faro table tonight, and as usual, his sister Annie was at his side. Her face lit up in a smile as she saw Longarm making his way across the room toward them. "Look, Paul," Longarm heard her say as she clutched at her brother's arm. "It's Custis."
"So it is," said Clement as he looked up with his customary sardonic half-smile. He greeted Longarm by saying, "How are you, Custis? Annie here was quite worried about you last night. She expected to see you here again. She's been pestering Jasper about you all evening."
Annie blushed and looked down at the floor. "Really, Paul, you make it sound as if I was being silly," she protested. "Last night, I simply asked Mr. Millard where Custis was, and I've barely spoken to him this evening."
"What did Millard tell you?" asked Longarm.
"He said that you were handling some business for him, and that he hoped you'd be back tonight." Annie smiled again. "And here you are!" She sounded a little giddy, and Longarm suspected she'd had several glasses of wine.
"I'm sorry I missed you," he said, only half-sincere. The run-in with Royale's men hadn't been any fun, but it had led to his meeting with Claudette.
"Well, you're here now," said Annie, disengaging her arm from her brother's and linking it with Longarm's instead. Longarm thought he saw a flicker of disapproval on Clement's face, but he couldn't be sure about that. He knew that Clement regarded Annie as a lucky charm. She went on. "Why don't we get a drink?"
"Sure... if it's all right with Paul."
Clement flicked his wrist languidly. "Go ahead. I'm afraid not even the good luck Annie sometimes brings me could make me a winner tonight."
Longarm led Annie over to the bar. She chattered brightly in his ear along
"I am a mite tired," admitted Longarm, although in truth he had slept just fine between bouts of lovemaking with Claudette. "Don't you need me to stay here, though?"
Millard shook his head. "I don't plan to leave the club today, and I'm safe enough here."
"Couldn't prove it by the fella who let me in," Longarm pointed out. "If I'd been working for Royale, you might be dead now."
"Maybe you're right," said Millard. "But I've got more men upstairs. I'll roust them out and put a couple of guards with shotguns on every entrance."
"Wouldn't hurt to have a couple of them right out there in the hall, in front of your door."
"Good idea." Millard stood up. "I'll see to it right now. Why don't you come back over here after supper?"
Longarm nodded. "All right. If you're sure."
"I'm sure. Go on, Parker."
Longarm left the club, hoping that Millard would follow through on those precautions they had discussed. To tell the truth, he really was tired, and he wanted to get out of his dirty clothes. A hot bath, a few hours' sleep, and a fresh outfit would go a long way toward making him feel like a new man.
He hailed one of the hansom cabs and headed for the St. Charles Hotel.
By the time he returned to the Brass Pelican that evening, he did indeed feel positively human again. Well rested, dressed in a clean suit and shirt, he felt as if his adventure in the bayou country was now nothing more than a memory.
But a sweet memory in a lot of ways, he thought as an image of Claudette floated in his mind for a moment.
Now it was time for him to get back to work. There was a new doorman at the entrance of the Brass Pelican, replacing the unfortunate Luther. This man wore a fancy uniform too, but since he was about half Luther's size, Longarm knew it wasn't the same outfit.
The club was busy, though not as packed as it had been two nights earlier before the raid by Royale's men. Such an incident would hurt Millard's business for a time, before everyone forgot about it. Royale might not allow anyone to forget what had happened, thought Longarm. There might be a recurrence at any time.
Paul Clement was bucking the tiger at the faro table tonight, and as usual, his sister Annie was at his side. Her face lit up in a smile as she saw Longarm making his way across the room toward them. "Look, Paul," Longarm heard her say as she clutched at her brother's arm. "It's Custis."
"So it is," said Clement as he looked up with his customary sardonic half-smile. He greeted Longarm by saying, "How are you, Custis? Annie here was quite worried about you last night. She expected to see you here again. She's been pestering Jasper about you all evening."
Annie blushed and looked down at the floor. "Really, Paul, you make it sound as if I was being silly," she protested. "Last night, I simply asked Mr. Millard where Custis was, and I've barely spoken to him this evening."
"What did Millard tell you?" asked Longarm.
"He said that you were handling some business for him, and that he hoped you'd be back tonight." Annie smiled again. "And here you are!" She sounded a little giddy, and Longarm suspected she'd had several glasses of wine.
"I'm sorry I missed you," he said, only half-sincere. The run-in with Royale's men hadn't been any fun, but it had led to his meeting with Claudette.
"Well, you're here now," said Annie, disengaging her arm from her brother's and linking it with Longarm's instead. Longarm thought he saw a flicker of disapproval on Clement's face, but he couldn't be sure about that. He knew that Clement regarded Annie as a lucky charm. She went on. "Why don't we get a drink?"
"Sure... if it's all right with Paul."
Clement flicked his wrist languidly. "Go ahead. I'm afraid not even the good luck Annie sometimes brings me could make me a winner tonight."
Longarm led Annie over to the bar. She chattered brightly in his ear along
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