Louisiana Bigshot

told her he’s got a business trip.”
    “To Mobile! He told her he’s going to Mobile! I love it. I swear to God, I love it.” Outwitting people was pretty much his favorite thing, and she was coming to see the appeal of it.
    “So you’re spending the day on the Gulf Coast with a video camera.”
    “Yeah. Last time I did something like this, they all but did it out by the swimming pool. Prettiest little movie I ever made in my life.”
    “Well, you just have a swell old time, Eddie. I’ll see you when you get back.”
    “Take care of yaself, Ms. Wallis.”
    “Ohhhh, yeah.” She executed a pseudo-moan. “I think I might go to the emergency room.”
    They hung up, she smiling happily to herself, hoping the listeners had enjoyed themselves. Eddie loved his little ruses so much even she was half-convinced he was going off to do a surveillance.
    So far so good. The next thing was to come up with a disguise for herself. Fortunately, her mother had a closet full of wigs, none of which were styled any way at all Talba would even consider wearing under normal circumstances. She chose a kind of church lady do that would look more or less professional paired with a plain white blouse, navy skirt, and rust-colored jacket. The jacket was essential for this kind of work, having deep pockets for carrying whatever she needed—in this case, disks. She put the whole outfit in a bag with a few other things and pulled on a pair of jeans.
    She looked up her destination in the phone book, picked up her bag, got in her car, and headed for Eve’s Full-Service Garden of Glamour (AKA Eve’s Weaves). It was out in the Ninth Ward, and she decided to take St. Claude, a nice wide street with plenty of lanes. She drove very slowly, as if extremely relaxed, or else the possessor of a raging hangover. And pretty soon she saw a white Buick Le Sabre, a plain vanilla car, perfect for tailing, going about as slow as she was. She turned off onto a side street, and so did the car.
Uh-oh,
she thought,
It's going to be a long, ugly day.
She didn’t want the guy to know she’d made him, which somewhat complicated things. She hadn’t thought of an errand to fake to explain her detour.
What the hell,
she decided,
Somebody’s about to get a surprise visit.
    She picked a house with no cars in front, parked, and rang the bell. But while she stood on the porch, the Le Sabre didn’t pass.
    She slipped to the side, hoping there were no vicious dogs in the back. There were, only next door.
    Amid a huge din that she hoped wouldn’t draw a man with a gun, she crept to the back, hid, and waited till a car passed. The Le Sabre? She couldn’t see. Well, who cared? If it hadn’t passed by now, she’d probably lost it already.
    She walked back to her own car, making sure to wave at the imaginary person at the back of the house. It was tempting to pretend to adjust the rearview mirror, but she didn’t dare. Peeks would have to do. She slid back onto the street, and when she’d gone half a block, saw a white car doing the same. Damn!
    Okay, then, Eve’s Weaves anyhow. It was a weird way to meet her long-lost sister, but why not kill two birds with one stone? Well, three—she really needed a manicure.
    She could sit across the table from Janessa, actually talking to her, getting to know her a little. Maybe she’d become a regular client, get to be buddies, then break the news.

Chapter Twenty-Four
    She parked and strolled in, expecting a sleepy neighborhood salon, and, except for being fairly busy, it pretty much met her expectations. There were two hairdressers, one of whom probably doubled as the receptionist, a manicurist to the right and out of sight unless she swiveled her head conspicuously, two clients in the chairs, and two clients waiting. Evidently, they welcomed walk-ins here, and so much the better. If she were here a long time, the tail might conclude she was malingering, and call it a day.
    One of the hairdressers paused and looked her way. “May I help you?” The one who was also the receptionist. The woman in her chair also looked. “Talba Wallis!” the client sang out “What brings a baroness to this neighborhood?”
    It was one of the waitresses at Reggie and Chaz, the restaurant where she did her readings. “Hey, you’re reading next week, right?”
    “Hey, Marcelline. How’re you doing? I just came in for a manicure.” She broke out in a sweat. If Janessa’d been told about her visit her well-laid plans had just