Louisiana Lament

Tanitha.”
    Talba made an
o
of horror. “Damian!”
    The woman nodded. “He was with her.”
    “Omigod.”
    Eddie said, “Nobody hurt, though?”
    “No, but we all heard it. It was a drive-by—can you imagine? In this neighborhood! Car just drove by and opened up.”
    “How many shots fired?”
    A man said, “Two.”
    The short-haired woman shook her head. “Three. Three, swear to God. Calvin’s a policeman, you know—it could have been somebody with a grudge.”
    “But the wife!” said another woman. “And poor little Damian.”
    A couple of the men grumbled in a way that said to Talba,
There goes the neighborhood.
    “Well, y’all tell ’em our hearts are with ’em,” Eddie said. “We’ll leave our cards in the mailbox.”
    Back in the car, they were silent, each trying to take in what they’d just seen, the magnitude of the thing building around them. After awhile, Talba noticed that Eddie wasn’t driving back to the office.
    “Where are we going?”
    “We’re driving around.”
    She didn’t answer, thinking that was fine with her. There wasn’t anywhere she especially wanted to be right now. “We’re thinking,” he continued.
    Again she kept quiet. The last thing she wanted to do was think.
    “We’re thinking about how to keep that from happening on your street. And my street And Angie and Darryl’s streets.”
    “Oh, shit!”
    “Now that ain’t gon’ help anything, Ms. Wallis.”
    She kept quiet again, a turtle safe in its shell.
    Finally, he said, “What do we think is happening here?”
    And she was stunned at the burble of words that poured out of her mouth, as if she really had been thinking. “That was a warning. They didn’t mean to hurt anybody, or they would have. Like when they shot at you. Also, they don’t have to worry about the Richards—that’s a family with plenty of reason not to wreck the gravy train. They just wanted to remind them of that.”
    “Agreed. Once again, who is ‘they’?”
    “Yeah. Who? I mean, Calhoun’s got to be behind it, but…”
    “Maybe not. With politicians you never know. It could be crazy supporters.”
    She shook her head, surprised at how clearly she could see it. “Uh-uh. This isn’t dirty tricks, it’s murder. Who’d care that much except Calhoun himself? Besides, how would they know about the cover-up? It’s Calhoun.”
    “Ya mean it’s somebody he hired. And I’ve got a real bad feeling about what that somebody’s next assignment is.”
    “You mean us? You do, don’t you? I was afraid you did.” She was almost used to the idea. She was starting to look at it coldly—turtling out further still. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing right now. She said, “It was more than one—it took two people to kill Clayton.”
    “They’re real slick, Ms. Wallis. Real, real slick.”
    “How the hell do you deal with something like this?”
    “Well, now, I was hopin’ you were going to ask what I been thinkin’ about it. Ya really want to know?”
    “Don’t tell me to yell uncle.”
    She was surprised when he laughed. “Ms. Wallis, Ms. Wallis. Ya think I’m crazy? I’d never say a thing like that to you. ’Course, maybe we could just go to the police.”
    She thought about it. “It puts Calvin too much at risk. He could lose his job—or worse. And you know what I mean by worse. I just don’t think we have the right.” She let it lie for a minute. “Okay, I give up. What’s your idea?”
    “Ya famous demographics, Ms. Wallis. For this, ya got the perfect demographics; and also ya famous criminal abilities. We gotta go behind enemy lines; do a little spyin’.”
    “You mean computer spying? Illegal stuff?” Eddie was usually such a stickler.
    “This is life or death, Ms. Wallis. Ya want ’em to get to Miz Clara? Or Calvin Richard’s little boy? Ya gotta disappear right now and become someone else. Somebody with access to certain things.”
    She was amazed. She’d have thought he’d have gone all male and protective. Almost crossly, she asked, “What are you going to do?”
    “I’m gon’ run a little sting, Ms. Wallis. Got quite a little idea in the back of my head, but don’t ax me any more yet. I got a lot of details to work out. I’m gon’ have to bring in some outside help. Now, listen. I don’t want you at home and I don’t want you at Darryl’s. Ya got any place ya can stay?”
    She shrugged. “Hotel, I guess. Just tell me, will you—what the hell am I going to be