Longarm and the Voodoo Queen

by Tabor Evans

  That was where he was wrong, thought Longarm. Somebody cared about the law--even if he was from out of town.

  "So Denton can't bother you because of your connections, and he can't get to Royale either, I'd wager. Any trouble from any of the other local lawmen, or any federal boys?" The way the conversation had been going, Longarm didn't think it was too much of a risk to pose the question. After all, if he was going to work for Millard, he had a right to know what he was getting into.

  Millard shook his bald head. "Nothing to speak of. Nothing we can't handle."

  "Sounds good," said Longarm with a nod, concealing his disappointment. But it would have been too much to hope for if Millard had upped and confessed to killing Douglas Ramsey just like that. Still, there had been a chance that he would, since he was feeling expansive and grateful to Longarm for saving his life.

  But maybe Millard wasn't responsible for Ramsey's murder. Maybe Royale or some of his men had been the ones who had put the knife in Ramsey's back and then dumped him in the bayou. Longarm would just have to keep poking around until he knew for sure, and the unexpected foothold he had gained in Millard's organization was the perfect place for him to start.

  Millard tossed back the rest of his drink and set the empty glass on the desk with a thump. "I'm going down in the Delta tomorrow," he said. "I want you to come with me, Parker. I'll show you the ropes, and it won't take long for you to catch on to the way we do things down here."

  Longarm finished his cognac. "I'll be looking forward to it," he said honestly. "You expecting any more trouble from Royale?"

  Millard grinned coldly across the desk at him. "I don't know. But if we run into any, you'll be there to handle it, won't you?"

  Most of the damage in the main room of the gambling club had been put right with surprising speed. The broken tables had been propped up, a cloth had been spread over the poker table with the slashed top, and the games were under way again when Longarm and Millard left the office a few minutes later.

  Paul Clement had left the roulette wheel for the blackjack table. Annie was still at his side, one of her hands held firmly in both of his except when he had to let go to push chips up to the betting line. Unobtrusively, Longarm watched him play several hands. Clement was a plunger, Longarm decided, unable to stay even when the odds were on his side. On nearly every hand, he leaned forward and said in a breathless voice, "Hit me," succumbing to the siren call of the next card, whatever it might be. Not surprisingly, he lost more than he won, though he hit blackjack a couple of times and exclaimed happily.

  Annie glanced over her shoulder and saw Longarm watching them. She slipped her hand out of her brother's grip, and Clement looked over at her sharply, almost angrily. Longarm saw her say something in his ear, and after a second, he nodded grudgingly. Annie walked toward Longarm with a smile.

  "I told Paul that all the excitement earlier has given me a headache," she said as she came up to him. "I thought perhaps you would accompany me back to our mansion."

  "I'd be happy to," Longarm told her, "but isn't that something your brother really ought to do?"

  Annie made a face. "Paul would never forgive me if I dragged him away from his games of chance so early in the evening. He probably won't stop playing until the sun comes up. You can take me home, then return here or go back to the St. Charles, whatever you wish. The driver will come back here to get Paul later."

  Longarm nodded. "All right. Let's go."

  Annie stopped long enough to get her lacy shawl from the cloak room. She wrapped it around her shoulders as they stepped outside. The evening's festivities on Gallatin Street were still in full swing. The warm night air was full of tinny music and shrill laughter.

  The black carriage was waiting nearby at the curb. Longarm helped Annie in, then said to the wizened driver, "The lady wants to go home. I'll be going with her, then back to the St. Charles." He swung up into the carriage, and was about to sit on the front seat when Annie said, "Sit beside me, Custis."

  "Always glad to oblige a lady," he said with a grin as he settled down on the rear seat next to her.

  "I'm very glad to hear that." Her voice had an undertone that was almost a purr.

  Almost instantly, Longarm felt himself growing aroused. Annie was sitting close enough to him that he could feel the warmth of her body, and her perfume, subtle yet insistent, filled his senses. She reached over and caught hold of his hand, twining her fingers with his.

  "I am so glad I met you today, Custis, and that you were with us tonight at the club. When those horrible men came bursting in, I was frightened, and yet... I knew I would be all right. I knew you wouldn't allow any harm to come to me."

  She was giving him more credit than he was due. In the confusion of the raid, with all those bullets flying around, almost anything could have happened to her, and likely there wouldn't have been a damned thing he could have done to stop it.

  But she had come through the violence all right, and if she wanted to think that he was partially responsible for that, he supposed it wouldn't hurt anything. "I'm glad I was there too," he told her. "It means a lot to me, the way you and your brother have sort of taken me under your wing."

  She laughed, but didn't sound particularly amused. "You won't need our help anymore, now that you're 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 told you, don't toy with me. I want you, Custis Parker, and I intend to have YOU."

  As they reached the bottom of the staircase and Annie took a step up, Longarm said, "Your brother..."

  She whirled back toward him, her features taut and unreadable. "Don't talk about Paul," she said. "Don't even mention him. Not tonight."

  Longarm frowned. He wasn't sure what had come over Annie. Earlier in the evening, she had seemed devoted to her brother, even though she was a little bored by his gambling. Now she acted almost as if she hated him.

  But that was none of his business, Longarm told himself. He had been lucky enough to meet this beautiful woman, and now she wanted him in her bed and was completely unabashed about her desires. His chance acquaintance with Annie and Paul Clement had already paid a considerable dividend in the job he had landed with Jasper Millard. Now he seemed to be on the verge of collecting another dividend.

  The fact that she was standing on the first step while he was still on the floor brought their faces close to the same level. Suddenly, Annie leaned forward, and her lips found his in an urgent kiss. Longarm slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

  His tongue darted between her lips as she opened herself to him, and he explored the hot, wet cavern of her mouth for several moments. Her tongue replied in kind, circling his, fencing with it. Her breasts prodded softly against his chest, and her arms tightened around his neck as she hugged him.

  They stood that way for a long moment, straining against each other. Then Annie broke the kiss. "Come!" she said urgently. She reached down to catch hold of his hand. "Come with me."

  Longarm went.

  A few minutes later, he found himself in an elegantly furnished bedchamber on the third floor of the mansion. There were lace curtains on the windows and a thick rug on the floor. The room was dominated by the large, four-poster, canopied bed that was its main piece of furniture, but there was also a long dressing table with a mirror above it and a tall wardrobe with gold handles on its doors. Annie tugged him eagerly toward the bed.

  Longarm stopped her and turned her around so that her back was toward him. His fingers went to the buttons of the gown and began unfastening them. With all the buttons behind her like this, he knew she hadn't done up this gown herself; she must have had help, and that made him wonder about servants. He leaned closer to her and whispered into her ear, "Any hired help in the house?"

  She closed her eyes and leaned back against him as she shook her head. "They've all gone home for the night. None of them stay here. We have the house to ourselves."

  Longarm went back to what he was doing, which was unfastening the final button in the row that ran down her spine. He spread the dress open, revealing the smooth, honey-colored expanse of her back all the way down to the sensual twin dimples just above the cleft of her buttocks. He gathered up the thick masses of her hair and lifted them to expose the nape of her neck, and that was where he planted his lips in a long, lingering kiss that slowly slid down her back. Annie shivered and made a noise deep in her throat. He heard her whisper his name.

  When he reached the small of her back, he stopped and let his tongue play over the smooth skin and downy hairs he found there. After a moment in which her breathing became noticeably heavier, Annie moved a step away from him and turned. Longarm stayed where he was, kneeling on the soft rug beside the bed. He looked up at her as she pulled the dress over her shoulders and then slowly lowered it in front of her. Her firm, apple-shaped breasts came into view. They rode high and proud on her chest, and the large brown nipples were pebbled and erect.

  She pushed the gown on past her hips, taking her petticoats with it. As the frilly undergarments fell around her ankles, she stood nude before him. Longarm gloried in her loveliness, his heart beating heavily in his chest. He stood slowly and stepped over to her. She held out her arms to receive him. He kissed her again, savoring the erotic sensation of cradling her naked form against him while he was still fully dressed.

  That situation didn't last long. Her fingers fairly flew over his body as she began taking his clothes off, unbuttoning here, tugging there, her movements becoming more urgent as she stripped away the layers of fabric separating his skin from hers. Finally, her hand closed around the huge pole of flesh that jutted out from his groin, and she sighed as her eyes widened in wonder.

  Her back was to the bed, and as Longarm rested his hands on her bare shoulders and pressed down gently, she went eagerly, reclining and pulling him down with her. Her thighs parted and his hand found her core, which was already drenched in her juices. She clutched his shaft with both hands, making milking motions along it as his fingers delved into the wet folds of feminine flesh. The ball of his hand was resting on her mound, and he pressed down gently but insistently. She took one hand away from his erection and caught hold of his hair as he lowered his head to one of her hard, demanding nipples and sucked it into his mouth. His shaft was like a rod of iron, throbbing almost painfully as she caressed it and used her thumb to spread the moisture that pearled from its tip all around the flaring head.

  "Now, Custis!" she gasped. "Oh, God, now!"

  He had already moved between her widespread thighs, balancing there on his knees. His manhood was only inches away from her fiery center. He drove forward with a thrust of his hips and found the gates of her womanhood open wide for him. She gasped again as he entered her, filling her deeply and completely. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held on to him with surprising strength. The muscles of her femininity clenched on him as well, their grip so hot and tight that he almost lost control right away.

  With a groan of effort, he exerted his iron will and forced down the reaction that was building within him. Neither of them were ready for this to be over yet. His hips began to move as he withdrew almost all the way, then plunged into her again.

  "Harder!" she panted. "Harder!"

  Longarm drove in and out, filling her to the brim, then pulling back. Both of them were breathing fast now, and Longarm could hear the thunder of his pulse inside his head. Annie plastered her mouth to his and her tongue shot into his mouth, plundering him as he was plundering her down below. The rest of the world had retreated, leaving only the two of them, and the only sounds to be heard on the entire planet were the rasp of their breath, the liquid movement of heated flesh within flesh, and the faint slapping of belly against belly.

  Then Annie tore her mouth away from his and began to make a small, keening sound as her head thrashed from side to side on the bed. Longarm knew she had reached her culmination, so he held back no longer. He plunged deeply within her again, as deep as he could go, and held his shaft there as great, shuddery spasms shook him. His seed exploded from him in spurt after spurt, draining him and filling her in the eternal siphon of passion. Finally, with another shudder and jerk, the last of it welled f
rom him. Sated, he slipped from her and rolled to the side, because he knew that if he didn't get off her, his weight would crush her as his muscles turned to jelly and he could no longer support himself on his elbows and knees.

  Annie snuggled against his side, resting her head on his chest as he looped an arm around her and held her to him. Breathlessly, she said, "I am... so glad you... came to New Orleans, Custis."

  He brushed his lips against her hair and murmured, "So am I."

  In truth, his first day here had gone stunningly well. He had made progress on the job that had brought him to the Crescent City, and he had bedded a lovely, passionate woman whom he hadn't even known when this morning dawned. Too much good luck?

  Longarm wondered how that trip down to the Delta country with Jasper Millard was going to go the next day.

  CHAPTER 6

  Longarm said, "Damn!" and swatted at the mosquito busily feasting on his neck. Beside him, Jasper Millard laughed.

  "You stay down here in this country for very long, Parker," said Millard, "and you'll get to where you don't even notice those little bastards."

  "That one wasn't so little," Longarm said as he studied the squashed insect on the palm of his hand. Its death had left a smear of blood on his skin. His own blood, thought Longarm, which the varmint had just sucked out of him. "These things get much bigger, they're liable to start carrying off dogs."

  Millard chuckled again. He and Longarm were riding side by side along a road that followed the twisting course of a bayou. It was mid-morning and already quite hot, even though the cypress trees that bordered the road cast quite a bit of shade. Long strands of Spanish moss dangling from the branches brushed against Longarm's face from time to time. A warm breeze that was as lazy as the almost imperceptible current of the bayou brought a mixture of pungent smells to Longarm. The most prominent was that of the rich brown earth, but he also smelled the sweetness of honeysuckle and bougainvillea as well as the sharper tang of rotting fish. All in all, it was a blend that took some getting used to.