PI On A Hot Tin Roof

named Gumbo?”
    “Nickname, I think. Nobody knows its real name.”
    “Well, it oughta be Cleopatra or somethin—that’s one pretty kitten. Raisa’s gon’ love that—mmm mmm. Don’t know ’bout Darryl, but—”
    She was interrupted by the sound of galloping, then a great hissing and spitting that caused the kitten to go Halloween on them.
    “Omigod, Mama,” Talba yelled. “Get Blanche and Koko out of here!”
    “Scat,” Miz Clara yelled. “Y’all wanta traumatize that baby? All Darryl needs is another psychiatrist bill—that daughter of his is gon’ cost him plenty down the line. Come on, y’all—scat!” She raised her arms like a grizzly bear, causing poor Koko and Blanche to turn tail and run, in the certain knowledge that their best friend had just flipped out.
    Suzanne arrived at noon the next day with four potted plants and assorted mirrors. “Hmm, this doesn’t look so bad. But this is an office, so you’re going to need plants in your career, helpful people, and money corners. And I brought some mirrors just in case—but your desk does face the door, that part’s okay. Tell you the truth, I expected a lot worse.”
    Talba didn’t inquire as to the reasons for all these things, but she got told anyhow, and in little more than half an hour, her office was ready for anything. Suzanne wanted to do the reception area, too, but Talba called a halt after a while—the last thing she needed was Eddie’s post facto input.
    There was a newish Thai place in the neighborhood, and, remembering how much Suzanne liked her food, Talba eventually enticed her pad thai-ward. “I don’t usually drink at lunch,” she said, “but I’m feeling kind of reckless today.”
    “Kind of light and airy? A lot of people report that after getting feng shui’ed. Let’s celebrate. Go ahead—have a glass of wine. Or maybe some beer.”
    “I will if you will.” Anything for the cause. But Suzanne refused, so Talba got to keep her head clear.
    Talba asked her how Adele and Lucy and all the gang were doing and Suzanne said they were muddling through, except for being in shock and everything. “And you?” Talba asked.
    “Well, Royce is taking it pretty hard; I’m just trying to help him get through.”
    “He must be a difficult man to be married to.”
    Suzanne seemed surprised. “Why do you say that?”
    “May I speak out of school? Sometimes you just don’t seem happy, that’s all.”
    “Well, uh—I’m having kind of a hard time getting my business started.”
    Talba said, “It seems like he drinks a lot.”
    “Oh. He does,” Suzanne admitted. “I’m terribly worried about him, if you want to know the truth.”
    “I was wondering about Brad. He can’t be a good influence.”
    “Oh, Brad,” was all Suzanne said.
    “I get a weird vibe about him. Do you happen to know if he’s gay?”
    Suzanne looked at her quizzically. “You must be very perceptive. He’s so macho and everything, hardly anyone ever guesses. But of course Royce has known him since fifth grade—pretty hard to be in the closet with your best friend.”
    “I see what you mean. But I’m wondering—did Buddy know?”
    “Oh, sure. He just accepted it, like we all do.”
    “Suzanne, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but Buddy seemed awfully prejudiced. I mean, something like that…”
    “Oh, it never bothered him at all. Old redneck that he was, that didn’t stop him from being crazy about Brad—damnedest thing. Sometimes I used to think he loved him more than Royce. You ever read that book,
Rich Dad, Poor Dad?
”
    Talba shook her head. “Is it a novel?”
    “No, it’s about a kid whose best friend’s father kind of took him under his wing and taught him things. Daddy Buddy was like that with Brad, only he didn’t teach him things about money, like the kid in the book. Brad was like a second son, that’s all. The favorite son. Sometimes I think that’s the root of Royce’s problems.”
    “His problems?”
    “Oh, you know—his insecurity. You’ve noticed it, right?”
    “This stuff is hot!” Talba interjected. “I think I’ll have a beer after all. Sure you won’t have one?”
    “No, I—can you keep a secret?”
    “I’m a P.I., remember? Secrets-R-Us.” She hoped Suzanne wouldn’t remember that she’d just spilled more secrets than the Champagnes knew they had. “What’s on your mind?”
    “Well—there’s a reason I’m not drinking. Think about it.”
    Talba remembered how