"Thought I come to see you, me," she said. "Time I got away from that bayou, you bet."
The words were brave, but Longarm wasn't sure how sincere they were. There was a look in her eyes like a wild animal might have had after being dropped down in a place like this. The crowd inside the Brass Pelican, though small by some standards, probably seemed huge to her. And the noise--the piano, the spinning of the roulette wheel, the shrill laughter and coarse talk--had to be unsettling to someone accustomed to the whisper of the wind and the cry of the loon.
Some of the club's customers were openly staring at her too, which had to make her even more nervous. Longarm took her arm, clasping it just above the elbow in a gentle grip, and led her toward one of the empty tables. "Let's sit down," he suggested.
He noticed that Millard had emerged from the door to the rear corridor and was watching them curiously, but he didn't approach them. Millard had to be wondering who Claudette was, thought Longarm.
At the moment, she didn't look much like the bayou gal she had been the last time Longarm had seen her. She had cleaned herself up and was wearing a simple, inexpensive gray dress. The other women in the Brass Pelican were dressed in much finer clothes, but none of them could hold a candle to Claudette when it came to sheer beauty. Her nervousness had reminded Longarm of a wild animal; she had a wild animal's fresh, unspoiled, clean-limbed beauty as well. Which did even more than her clothes to make her seem out of place in the gambling club.
Longarm held her chair for her and then sat down beside her. "I'm mighty flattered you'd come all this way to see me," he told her. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to. Been too long in the bayous, me. The world is big-big. Thought it was time to see some more of her."
Longarm could understand that. He had been fiddle-footed himself after the war, like a lot of young men. That restlessness had led him to go West, also like a lot of others. So he knew what Claudette meant about wanting to see something different. She might never be truly happy for long out of the bayou country, but for now a change of scenery wouldn't hurt her.
"How'd you find me?" he asked her. "I don't recollect mentioning that I worked here."
"You did not. I talk to that farmer man who bring you into town, I did. I know 'most ever'body round them bayous and shinneries, so it didn't take long to find him. He tell me he sees you walk off toward this street when he stop at the French Market, so I come a-knockin' on doors, askin' folks what answer if they know this mos' handsome man name of Custis."
He tried not to grin at the flattery. From what she was saying, he had made quite an impression on her. They'd had a lot of fun on the bunk in that cabin of hers, but he didn't think that was enough to bring her all the way up here.
He hoped she hadn't convinced herself that she was in love with him.
That was a sobering thought. Longarm said, "I'm glad you came for a visit, but-"
"No visit," she broke in. "Stay here in N'Awleans, I will. Get me a job." She looked around. "Maybe workin' in a place like this." Longarm shook his head. "You don't want to work here."
"Why not? You do," she pointed out with impeccable logic.
"That's different. I'm a man, and you're-"
She pointed at one of Millard's hostesses, who was wearing a lacy, low-cut gown and hanging on the arm of a gambler at the roulette table. "I could do a job like that," said Claudette. "Look pretty an' be nice to the gentlemans."
That was true enough, Longarm supposed. Claudette was certainly pretty enough to be one of the Brass Pelican's hostesses. But he knew there was more to their job than that. Some of them worked the upstairs rooms, and they also had to make themselves available to Millard whenever he wanted one of them. Working at the Brass Pelican was a step up from whoring on the street and in the cribs--but only a step.
"Forget it," Longarm said flatly. "You don't want to work here, Claudette."
Her eyes widened with hurt. "You don't want me here, you."
"That's not it-"
"Ashamed that you even know a bayou gal like me, you bet." She started to stand up. "Well, I won't bother you no more, Custis. I be gone out of here, and you not have to see me again."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Longarm said in exasperation. "Let's eat this apple one bite at a time. Do you mean you're going back to the bayou country?"
She shook her head emphatically. "No. I stay here in N'Awleans, fin' me some other job to do."
Longarm sighed. If she stayed here, unaccustomed to city life, with no friends and no money, she would be working the streets within a week. He was certain of it. And he didn't want that for Claudette. She deserved better. If he got her a job here at the Brass Pelican, at least he could keep an eye on her.
"All right," he said. "I ain't promising nothing, but I'll see what I can do. I'll go talk to the boss right now."
A smile lit up her face. "You would do this for me?"
"Sure." Under his breath, he added, "Don't reckon I've got much choice."
With all the threads of the investigation he had picked up, anxious to follow them to their source, this problem with Claudette was an unwelcome distraction. But then, most of life was a distraction, and a hell of a lot of it was unwelcome, he reflected. He'd just have to make do as best he could, and by the time he wrapped up the case and left New Orleans, maybe Claudette would be ready to go back home.
While Claudette waited anxiously at the table, Longarm went over to Jasper Millard, who was standing at the end of the bar, and said, "Boss, I've got a favor to ask of you."
"I'm not sure you've been working for me long enough to ask favors, Parker," said Millard. "But then, you seem to figure you've got some special privileges."
Clearly, Millard hadn't forgotten about finding Longarm in the office. Longarm said, "I told you, that won't happen again." He shook his head. "Lord, the trouble a man gets into sometimes just because he wants a smoke."
In spite of himself, Millard chuckled. "Go ahead, Parker," he said. "Ask your favor. I'm not promising anything, but I'll listen."
"Thanks. You see that lady over there at the table, the one who came looking for me?"
Millard glanced over at Claudette, then looked again. "She's a good looker. Friend of yours?"
"You could say that. She's trying to find a job."
"And she wants to work here? She must really want to spend time around you, Parker."
Longarm gave a slight shrug. "I told her I'd ask you about it."
"Let me see..." Millard studied Claudette for a long moment, then said, "At first glance, she doesn't seem the type. But if she was cleaned up a little more and borrowed some dresses from the other girls... I suppose I could use her. If that's what you really want, Parker."
Longarm wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. "I'm much obliged, Boss," he told Millard. "I'll tell her she's got the job."
"Why don't you let me do that?" asked Millard, surprising Longarm. Without waiting for Longarm's reply, he sauntered over to the table where Claudette waited. Her eyes got big as he approached.
"Welcome to the Brass Pelican, my dear," Millard said as he came up to the table. He leaned over, took Claudette's hand, and brushed his lips across the back of it. It would have been difficult to say who was more surprised, Claudette or Longarm. Millard went on. "Our mutual friend Mr. Parker tells me that you'd like to work here. As it turns out, I'm in need of another hostess, so if you'd like the job..."
"Oh, Lordy, I sure would, me," said Claudette breathlessly. "Thank you, Mr.?"
"Millard, Jasper Millard. I'm sure we'll become very well acquainted while you're here, my dear."
Longarm's hackles rose at the suggestive tone in Millard's voice, but he drew a tight rein on his temper. Claudette was a grown woman, and she hadn't been a virgin when he met her. So she wasn't completely unaware of the ways of the world. He would look out for her as best he could, but she would also have to take care of herself. Besides, no one had appointed him her guardian.