Louisiana Bigshot

you have reason to hate me.”
    “I don’t hate you.” He changed position, seeming uncomfortable. “The person I hate’s myself.”
    I can see that,
Talba thought, but didn’t say. It looked as if a long, unpleasant morning was about to get a lot worse; she was going to have to humor him, at least for awhile. “Well, tell you what,” she said. “Why don’t we get some coffee and get comfortable. Would you like some coffee?” She got up and went to get some, mind racing. At least he didn’t seem dangerous, she thought. Who and what he was wasn’t clear to her, except for one thing—he was a very depressed, very chastened young man. She could at least hear him out.
    When she returned, he took the coffee without thanking her, hardly seeming to notice its existence. “I hate myself for what I did. But I’ll tell you something—I did it out of… well, sadness. Babalu was distant. She was moody; she wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. I felt she was trying to move out of the relationship. She wouldn’t even…” He stopped, a kicked-puppy look descending onto his features as if blown there by the wind.
    Remember,
Talba said to herself,
he's an actor.
She said, “She wouldn’t even do what?”
    “She kept putting me off about the wedding date. She wouldn’t set a date.”
    She shrugged. “She thought you were cheating on her.”
    “No. I mean, I wasn’t then. This whole Valerie thing was a reaction—do you understand that?”
    “I understand it makes you feel better to think that.” He was making her impatient.
    He sighed. “Listen, I
swear
—the whole thing started with her.”
    She heard Eileen start back down the hall and didn’t bother to reply until the other woman arrived. “Everything all right?” Eileen asked.
    “Fine.” Talba nodded, reassuring Jason, she hoped.
    He looked embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to speak so loudly.”
    “I guess I was harsh. I’m sorry.”
    “No. You’re right. I guess I sound like every asshole who ever cheated. But look here. Babalu’s dead. I think something was going on with her, something she wouldn’t tell me, and”—he swallowed—“I think she got killed for it.”
    Yeah. Something was going on. Like she was doing heroin.
But that didn’t ring true for Talba—she couldn’t see Babalu doing heroin any more than Jason could. “What do you think it was?” she asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    “You must have some idea.”
    He was finally drinking his coffee, taking huge gulps purely for the caffeine. “No. I don’t. Babalu was a very mysterious person.”
    Talba sighed. “You’re not kidding. Anybody who calls themselves Babalu Maya’s got
something
going on. Do you even know her real name?”
    “Sure. Clayton Robineau.”
    “Well, there’s two names that don’t go together.”
    “Why?”
    “Clayton sounds like she owns the town. Robineau probably pumps gas.”
    For the first time, Jason cracked a smile. “You’re probably right. She’s from a town named Clayton. Near Baton Rouge. Robineau’s her married name.”
    “She was divorced?”
    “Yeah.” His face closed down with sadness and defeat.
    “But I don’t know much about the ex-husband. She wouldn’t talk about him.”
    “Well, I’m intrigued about this town thing—her having the same name, I mean. What kind of family did she come from?”
    He’d known that was coming. He all but winced. “She hadn’t introduced me to them.”
    “You sure y’all were engaged?”
    “You know we were. It was in your client report. I read it.”
    “You’re not describing a person who acts like they intend to get married.”
    “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She was distant. And a lot more so lately.”
    “All right.” Talba was taking notes now. Maybe he really was a potential client. “You must have known something about the family.”
    He nodded and crossed his legs, apparently grateful she’d asked him a question he could answer. “Her father was a banker. I guess that makes you a big deal in Clayton.”
    Talba’s mind ran a movie: “
You’ve got that deb look… ‘Carefully cultivated. We were trailer-trash, actually.’”
    “And her mother was some kind of beauty queen once upon a time.”
    Talba frowned. “That’s a weird way to describe your mother.”
    “I don’t think so. The way Babalu told it that was the important thing about her. Look, there was a reason she didn’t introduce me to her family. She didn’t get along with