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"I don't understand. Is it a party?"

"Only for those who pay for it," Gisselle said. "It's a brothel. A whorehouse," she added when I didn't respond quickly.

I gaped back at the big door. A moment later, it was opened again and this time, a gentleman appeared escorting a young woman in a bright green dress with a neckline that practically plummeted to her belly button. For a moment the girl's face was hidden by a fan of white feathers, but when she pulled the fan back, I saw her face and felt my mouth fall open. She brought the man to his waiting car and gave him a big kiss before he stepped into the rear. As the car pulled away she looked up and saw us.

It was Annie Gray, the quadroon girl who had ridden on the bus with me to New Orleans and used voodoo magic to help me find my father's address. She recognized me immediately, too.

"Ruby!" she called and waved.

"Huh?" Martin said.

"She knows you?" Beau asked.

Gisselle just stepped back, amazed.

"Hello, I called.

"I see you found your way about the city real good, huh?" I nodded, my throat tight. She looked back at the front door. "My aunt works here. I'm just helpin' her out some," she said. "But soon, I'm gettin' a real job. You find your daddy okay?" I nodded. "Hello, boys," she said.

"Hi," Martin said. Beau just nodded.

"I've got to get back inside," Annie said. "You just wait and see. I'll be singin' someplace real soon," she added, and hurried back up the steps. She turned in the doorway and waved and then disappeared within.

"I don't believe it. You know her?" Gisselle declared.

"I met her on the bus," I started to explain.

"You know a real prostitute," she followed. "And you said you didn't know what was here?"

"I didn't," I protested.

"Little miss goody-goody knows a prostitute," Gisselle continued, addressing herself to the boys. They both looked at me as if they had just met me.

"I don't really know her," I insisted, but Gisselle just smiled.

"I don't!"

"Let's go," Gisselle said.

We walked back quickly, no one speaking for quite a while. Every once in a while, Martin would look at me, smile, and shake his head.

"Where should we go to do it?" Beau asked after we all got back into his car.

"My house," Gisselle said. "My mother is probably off at a tea party and Daddy is surely still at work."

"To do what?" I asked.

"Just wait and see," she said. Then she added for the boys, "She probably knows all about it anyway. She knows a prostitute."

"I told you, I don't really know her. I just sat on a bus with her," I insisted.

"She knew you were looking for your daddy. Sounds like you two knew each other real well," Gisselle teased. "You didn't work together someplace, did you?" she asked. Martin spun around, his face full of laughter and curiosity.

"Stop it, Gisselle," I snapped.

Beau pulled away from the curb and shot down the street, leaving her laughter falling behind us.

Edgar greeted us all at the doorway when we returned to the house.