Lousiana Hotshot

job today.”
    “I’m sure Ms. Brown can expedite that, if you explain your problem right.” Talba thought,
Cross her palm with silver.
“Is there a referral fee?”
    “Ms. Brown will take care of that.”
    A kickback, then— for which Talba would no doubt be charged, plus there’d be some kind of bribe for Ms. Brown. But that was the cost of doing business. Talba could care less. It was the way the system worked, and she was going to use it.
    Before she trundled over to CompTask, she checked the web for “spy equipment.” Remembering the bug she’d placed for Allred, it occurred to her she’d better get hold of some tiny transmitters. Probably Eddie wasn’t the bugging type, but Eddie wasn’t around.
    It was amazing how easy it was to find this stuff. In five minutes, she’d ordered various bugs for telephones and other locations, but passed on what she really wanted— you could now get a GPS for tracking cars. You put it in the car (hardwiring it if possible), and then you could track the vehicle at home if you liked, on your desktop computer— or if you wanted to follow it, with your laptop in your car. Now this was really her style. Unfortunately, it was way out of her price range. But she was so impressed with the concept she phoned the seller, struck up a conversation, and eventually he mollified her with a couple of ancient “bird dogs” he knew how to get— old-style homing devices you could attach to a bumper. The problem, he warned her, was an extremely cumbersome and short-range receiver. Damn! She wanted that GPS.
    But of course Eddie would probably kill her if she used any of this stuff.
    Feeling cocky, she hied herself over to CompTask, where, it seemed Ms. Brown hadn’t worked for three months. Damn, she was mad! (Mostly at herself, though she thought it entirely possible L.J. Currie’d shined her just to get her out of his hair.)
    Okay, there was more than one way to skin a cat. She called CompTask and said she was from Baronial Records. She had a bit more up her sleeve, but it wasn’t necessary. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the auditory red carpet rolled out. She was switched to a Ms. Lewis, in whose mouth butter wouldn’t melt.
Too bad for you,
Talba thought.
Here goes.
And she did her best imitation of a bureaucrat in high dudgeon. “Excuse me, Ms. Lewis, but it’s nine-thirty and my temp isn’t here for the third day in a row. I’ve got a department to run— can you
please
tell me what in the name of God is going on?” As if the world would come to an end if the filing didn’t get done.
    Ms. Lewis was flustered. “I don’t understand. I know Liza was there—”
    “Oh, she was here— -just not when I needed her. Ms. Lewis, I’m sorry to be harsh, but the girl’s late for the third time— that is, if you even sent her.”
    “Of course we sent her. But Liza’s never late— it just isn’t like her.”
    “Are you sure she went to the right department?”
    “Actually—”
    “Yes? Actually?”
    “Usually Ms. Regan in your personnel department disperses the girls— but since there’s only one today—”
    Thank you, God,
Talba thought.
    “— there couldn’t really be a mistake. She’s been there a week, and she’s scheduled for another.”
    “Let me get this straight, Ms. Lewis. You sent her to Purchasing, is that correct? She has not arrived. Maybe you’d better send someone else.”
    “Purchasing? Liza’s in Legal. Oh my God, were there two work orders?”
    Having now gotten what she wanted, Talba was feeling generous. “Millicent, what is it?” she said, as if speaking to an underling. “Oh. Very good. Ms. Lewis, I beg your pardon. Liza’s here; someone sent her on an errand.” She hung up quickly, hoping Ms. Lewis wouldn’t catch on that there weren’t actually two work orders.
    The bad news was, there didn’t seem to be a way to get to Baronial today. Still, tomorrow would probably do. After a decent interval, she phoned Ms. Lewis again, said she was calling for Ms. Regan in Personnel, and they wouldn’t be needing Liza the rest of the week.
    Still no call from the cop on Cassandra’s case. Talba’d had about enough of waiting for it. She called Skip Langdon again, got the name— Officer Dinel Corn— called Corn, failed to get her, and left a message.
    Hell,
she thought.
That just isn’t good enough.
    She called Aziza Scott at work and found her surprisingly pleasant. “Hey, Talba, how’re you