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    The kid came back with two more buckets.
    â€œJust pour those over me, boy.”
    â€œThe water is pretty hot, sir.”
    â€œThat’s all right. It feels good.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Damn kid was right. The water felt like surely it must be close to boiling. No matter. Longarm let the heat soak into his bones. If this kept up, he thought, he might get to feeling human in another half hour or so.
    â€œBoy, hand me that wallet you see laying on the bureau there.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Longarm took the wallet and extracted a dollar bill. He handed it to the kid.
    â€œI don’t have any change, sir, but I can run downstairs and get some.”
    â€œI don’t want no change back, son. You earned it.”
    The boy’s eyes went wide. “The whole dollar, sir?”
    Longarm nodded and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “One more thing before you go, please.”
    â€œYes, sir. Anything you want, sir.”
    â€œHand me one o’ them cigars you’ll see over there. And a match.”
    Longarm fired up a cheroot, thanked the kid again, then slid as far down in the warm water as he could get, his cigar leaving a stream of smoke hanging above the tub.
    He relaxed and let the warmth soothe his aching muscles. He had forgotten to grab the towel out of the wardrobe and would likely half freeze when he got out of the tub and the air reached his wet skin, but no matter. There would be time enough to worry about that when it happened.
    Right now all he wanted was to stay where he was and soak. Later on he could think about something to eat. Maybe a shot or two of rye whiskey.
    And this evening he would be like any customer with a hard-on and a little money to spend and go visit with Helen at her place.

Chapter 16
    Longarm slept the afternoon away, then got up and dressed in his spare clothing. It was good to feel clean and dry and reasonably well rested again. He went downstairs and turned his key in at the desk, then walked over to Tisbury’s for a steak, fried, and potatoes, also fried, and a slab of dried apple pie, all of it very good stuff.
    After supper he made his way over to Helen’s whorehouse. Her ladies were pretty, but they were not tempting. Given the choice he would have rather been with Iris than with any of these working girls, no matter how pretty they were.
    If, that is, Iris would have him. She had made it abundantly clear that one romp in her bed did not give a gent a free pass for future pleasures.
    Right now, though . . .
    â€œIs Miss Helen here?” he asked the girl who answered the door. He had forgotten to ask Helen if she was using her real name, so he was not sure if he should ask for Helen Morrow or . . . who knew what else.
    â€œHave a seat in the parlor, sir. I’ll see if she is available. Your name, please?”
    â€œCustis,” Longarm said. “She knows me.”
    â€œYes, sir.” The girl bobbed her head and headed for the back of the house. Longarm entered the parlor and settled onto an overstuffed chair.
    The bevy of whores preened and postured, vying in their own fashion to be the one the tall gentleman chose. The room smelled of perfume and powders. The girls were pink and many of them plump, with plenty of tit for a man to play with, and their gowns made the most of what they had to offer, barely covering the essentials.
    The girl who had greeted him returned quickly. “Miss Helen said you are to go right back, sir. Do you know the way?”
    â€œYes, thank you.” Longarm headed down the hallway toward the back of the house. He stopped at Helen’s door and knocked.
    â€œCustis? I’m glad to see you, dear,” Helen said, opening the door and ushering him inside. “Can I get you something? Are you hungry?”
    â€œI’m fine. Just ate, thanks. But about that rye . . . ?”
    She laughed and took him by the elbow, leading