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"Be careful," she said again. Her expression was taut with anxiety.

Longarm nodded, gave her a reassuring smile, and left the room. It had been a long time since he had slept or eaten anything, but he wasn't particularly tired or hungry. The anticipation of justice about to be served was its own fuel, he supposed, at least in his case. He walked quickly through the lobby and stepped out through the ornate front entrance onto the short flight of stairs that led down to the street.

A woman had just gotten out of a cab that was pulled up in front of the hotel, and as she hurriedly turned and started up the stairs, she stopped short. So did Longarm.

Annie Clement was staring up at him, and she looked scared to death.

CHAPTER 14

"Custis!" Annie exclaimed in a ragged voice. Then she rushed up the stairs toward him.

He caught hold of her arms and looked at her. She was wearing the same gown she had been wearing the night before at the Brass Pelican and the Mardi Gras parade. A small bruise discolored her left cheekbone, and her jaw had been scraped on that side as well. Someone had hit her.

Longarm led her along the steps well away from the doorman before he asked grimly, "What happened?"

"P-Paul," she gasped out. "He... he lost his temper with me... because I saw what he did last night."

"What do you mean?"

"At the Mardi Gras parade... I saw him point to you, and then a minute later, those men tried to kill you! I... I could not believe it. Paul grabbed my arm and took me away from there. I struggled against him, but it was no use." She leaned her head against Longarm's chest as a shudder went through her. "He... he took me back to the mansion, and when I demanded to know why those men tried to hurt you, he... he hit me."

"You didn't go back to the Brass Pelican after the ruckus at the parade?"

She shook her head. "No, we went straight to the house.

So Millard had lied to him, thought Longarm. That was yet another indication that Millard and Clement were the ones who had tried to have him killed. And it indicated as well how ruthless they were about not having their slave-smuggling scheme exposed. They had been willing to murder Longarm just on the off chance that he wasn't who he appeared to be.

"Did Paul tell you anything about why he wanted me dead?" he asked tautly.

Again Annie shook her head. "Only that it had to do with a business arrangement he has with Jasper Millard, and that I shouldn't ask any more questions."

"You don't know anything about that so-called business arrangement?"

"No. I swear, Custis, I don't. I... I thought they were just friends."

Longarm's expression was bleak as he asked, "What happened after Paul hit you?"

"He..." Annie swallowed hard. "He threw me on the bed in my room and... and took me."

Longarm's teeth grated together. "Your own brother?" he asked, horrified and furious.

She looked down and wouldn't meet his eyes. "He has been doing it for years."

Paul Clement was going to be damned lucky if he just wound up behind bars, thought Longarm. He wanted very much at that moment to put a bullet through the head of the sick, murderous son of a bitch and be done with it.

But as long as he was working for Uncle Sam he wasn't judge, jury, or executioner. He drew a tight rein on his emotions and said, "And after that?"

"He locked me in my room, as he often does. I finally managed to get out a window and reach a branch of the magnolia tree on that side of the house, so that I could climb down. I knew I had to find you, so I could warn you that Paul was trying to have you killed."

"I'm obliged, but I already figured that out," he told her. "Your brother and Millard are partners in a smuggling ring, but it's not so much what they're bringing into the country that's got 'em worried about me. It's what they're shipping out."

"What?" asked Annie, a quaver of dread and apprehension in her voice.

Before Longarm could tell her, he heard rapid footsteps and the sound of a gun being cocked somewhere behind him.

He shoved Annie to the side as he whipped around, hoping that the push would send her out of the line of fire. A man in a tweed suit was standing behind one of the pillars that supported the hotel's second-floor balcony, using the pillar for cover as he aimed a Smith & Wesson revolver at Longarm. The weapon geysered flame and lead as an ugly whip-crack of sound split the early morning air. Longarm's gun was in his hand by now, and he heard the whine of the slug past his ear as he triggered his Colt.

Instinct and luck guided his shot. His bullet smashed the shoulder of the bushwhacker, knocking the man backward. The Smith & Wesson went flying.

That gunman wasn't the only threat, however, as Longarm saw right away. More men with drawn guns were darting from pillar to pillar, closing in on him and beginning to fire. At the same time, another cab drew up at the curb and several men leaped out of it, also with guns drawn. Clement must have discovered that Annie had escaped from the mansion and figured she would come looking for Longarm, and now he and Millard were desperate to get rid of both of them at the same time.

The doorman had ducked into the hotel for cover as shots rang out, but he was blowing his whistle frantically, the shrill sound keening through the air. That would summon the police, thought Longarm--but by the time help arrived, he and Annie would be dead, both of them shot full of holes.

Unless he did the unexpected.

Annie had slumped to the granite steps when Longarm shoved her, and so far she seemed to be unhit by the flying slugs. Longarm reached her side in a single bound and grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. He couldn't leave her behind. He snapped his last two shots at the men who had just emerged from the cab. The vehicle's driver, realizing how much danger he had innocently gotten mixed up in, was already whipping his horses into a run. As the gunmen ducked aside from Longarm's shots, the big lawman leaped down the steps toward the cab, hauling Annie with him.

He threw her bodily at the door of the cab, which was still flapping open as the driver pulled away from the curb. With a startled cry, Annie grabbed the door and pulled herself inside. Longarm leaped right behind her, but the door was already out of reach. The best he could do was catch onto the back of the cab with one hand while the other still held his Colt.

His arm felt as if it was nearly jerked out of its socket, but he managed to hang on. As he pulled his feet up, his body was thrown against the rear of the cab. The impact knocked the breath from his body, but still he held on. He jammed the empty Colt back in its holster, taking only a couple of tries to do so, then began clambering up the body of the cab.

Behind him, more shots blasted. Bullets thudded into the cab only inches from him. Longarm hoped the driver had the sense to swing around a corner as soon as they reached the end of the block. That would put them out of reach of the gunmen.

"Custis!"

The shout made him look up. Annie was hanging over the rear seat of the open-topped cab, extending a hand toward him. "Get down!" he called to her, but she shook her head stubbornly.

"Let me help you!" she cried over the rattle of the cab's wheels.

Figuring that it would be better not to waste time arguing, Longarm grasped her hand. At the same moment, he managed to finally get a foothold on the cab's body, and in a matter of seconds he pulled himself up and sprawled over the back of the seat, knocking Annie to the floor of the cab. Her face was white with fear, but she laughed hollowly at the awkwardness of it. Longarm was lying half on top of her. "This would be more enjoyable under other circumstances, Custis!" she said.

That was sure enough true. Longarm started to push himself up, then had to grab the side of the cab to catch his balance as the vehicle swayed at high speed around a corner. That was just what Longarm had hoped the driver would do. He raised his head for a last glance down the street in front of the hotel.