?Jessie?s place??
?Yes, sir.?
?Thank you for the assistance, Chief Deputy.?
Longarm left, hoping the chief deputy would not vent his frustrated impotence on the hapless drunk who was still groaning on the cell floor.
Chapter Eleven
Jessie?s place turned out to be Jessie?s Place, as Longarm discovered even before he climbed the long stairway to the front door.
The place announced its purpose with a pair of red-glassed coach lamps flanking the ornate door, and by the heavily shuttered and draped windows on all three stories of the tall, narrow structure. Lamplight glimmered dimly from behind each of the covered windows. Jessie?s Place apparently did a very good trade.
His knock was answered by an attractive woman in an evening gown. The hostess, possibly the madam herself, was tall, her carriage a study in practiced elegance. Longarm guessed she was in her forties, but damned well pre served and still prettier than nearly any ?working girl? a man could expect to find in such an out-of-the-way place. She wore?and needed?very little makeup, just enough to emphasize her natural attributes. That in itself was most unusual in a whorehouse.
Longarm removed his Stetson to her, and she gave him a warm and seemingly genuine smile.
?My,? she said, ?the gentleman is not only handsome, he is gallant. I believe I am in love, sir.? She laughed brightly and stepped back so he could enter.
?Thank you, ma?am.?
?My name is Jessie,? she said. ?What may I call you?? He noticed that she did not ask his name, only what she could call him. The lady was discreet as well as pretty.
?I?m Custis Long, Jessie. I came here to see one of your, uh, patrons. But now I believe I have other reasons to be pleased I met you.?
Jessie rolled her eyes. ?Oh my, Mr. Long. Keep this up and I shall be tempted to return to, shall we say, an active pursuit of the business.? Her bantering tone said that she didn?t mean it, but the compliment was there and he appreciated it for what it was.
On an impulse Longarm made a leg and bowed over her gloved hand. ?The unfortunate thing, Miss Jessie, is that now I couldn?t possibly be satisfied with the company of anyone but the lady of the house.?
She laughed, obviously pleased.
?Would you care for a drink, Mr. Long??
?If you will have one with me.?
She led him into a parlor that was decorated in the over-plush, overstuffed, red-velvet style that was for some reason common to first-class whorehouses and seated him on a scarlet settee.
There were several other men in the place and a few of the working girls. The men were dressed several cuts above the norm for working men. Undoubtedly Jessie?s Place catered to foremen and above, no riffraff allowed.
The girls Longarm could see in the parlor were dark-eyes, raven-haired beauties. They were all young, all nicely dressed, and all exceptionally pretty. Of Mexican extraction each of them, so this would be the place that brought Jonas Russable to Thunderbird Canyon for his weekend layovers. No wonder the salesman was so high on it. Miss Jessie?s girls were fine-looking ladies. Every one of them looked fresh and lovely and clean enough to eat. Or be eaten by, whichever appealed.
Jessie sat at Longarm?s side, one arm draped over the cozily encircling arm of the settee. She lifted a finger in a seemingly casual gesture and within seconds there was a young and heartbreakingly pretty Mexican girl standing attentively in front of her. Appearances aside, Longarm realized, Miss Jessie ran a tight ship indeed.
?The gentleman would like a drink, Rosalie.?
?Yes?m.? Rosalie dropped her eyes and ducked into a brief, submissive curtsy.
?Rye whiskey, please.?
Rosalie nodded without looking at him. ?And you, ma?am?? Her voice was heavily accented but eertainly un derstandable enough. The girl looked and sounded no more than sixteen, if that. Her breasts, half-visible over the low-cut bodice of her gown, were taut and small and flawless. Longarm felt an unbidden stirring of interest even though his thoughts were on other matters right now.
?Yes,? Jessie said. ?A small glass.? Her preference did not have to be stated. When Rosalie brought the tiny, tulip- shaped glass to her on a silver tray, along with Longarm?s general measure of fine rye, he saw that it was a ruby- colored wine of some sort.
Rosalie served the drinks, curtsied again, and returned to her duties beside a florid-faced, half-drunk gentleman wearing a stickpin that would have cost enough to support a large family for a year or better.
?To your very good health, Mr. Long.?
?And to yours, Jessie.?
He tasted the rye. It was as good as he expected it to be.
?Now to business, Mr. Long. Can I not tempt you with one of my young ladies? Fifty dollars. And there are abso lutely no
restrictions
as to what you might wish to do with them.? Her smile this time was tight and cold.
Longarm blinked. Fifty dollars! The price was staggering. It was more than most family men could earn in a month.
