Smith - Louisiana Lament

Praise for LOUISIANA LAMENT, the THIRD book in the Talba Wallis series by Edgar-winning author Julie Smith:

Cant wait for the next Evanovich? Check out Louisiana Hotshot. Its Stephanie Plum with Tabasco, dawlin.

The Clarion Ledger (Jackson, Mississippi)

Julie Smith has created many wonderful characters, and private investigator Talba Wallis is the most complex and fascinating of them all. If youre a fan, youre in for yet another treat.

Marcia Muller, bestselling author of Dead Midnight

Julie Smith writes like jazz should soundcool, complex, and penetrating right to the heart.

Val McDermid, bestselling author of The Last Temptation

[Talba] Wallis is fine fun to get to know a consistently interesting and likable woman of depth and complexity.

The Washington Post on Louisiana Bigshot

Join Edgar winner Julie Smith for a climax as harrowing as it is cunning.

The Clarion Ledger (Jackson, Mississippi) on Louisiana Bigshot

Smith has perfect pitch. Its great to hear her again.

Booklist on Louisiana Bigshot

[A] stroke of genius, Louisiana Hotshot is fresh, fast, and touching. Just like New Orleans, [it] has a lot of tude and a big heart.

The Times-Picayune (New Orleans)

The Talba Wallis Series

LOUISIANA HOTSHOT

LOUISIANA BIGSHOT

LOUISIANA LAMENT

P.I. ON A HOT TIN ROOF

Also by Julie Smith:

The Skip Langdon Series

NEW ORLEANS MOURNING

THE AXEMANS JAZZ

JAZZ FUNERAL

HOUSE OF BLUES

THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS

82 DESIRE

MEAN WOMAN BLUES

The Rebecca Schwartz Series

DEATH TURNS A TRICK

THE SOURDOUGH WARS

TOURIST TRAP

DEAD IN THE WATER

OTHER PEOPLES SKELETONS

The Paul Mcdonald Series

TRUE-LIFE ADVENTURE

HUCKLEBERRY FIEND

As Well As

LOUISIANA LAMENT

A Talba Wallis Mystery

By

JULIE SMITH

WE GUARANTEE OUR BOOKS
AND WE LISTEN TO OUR READERS

Well give you your money back if you find as many as five errors in this book. (Thats five verified errorspunctuation or spelling that leaves no room for judgment calls or alternatives.)

If you find more than five, well give you a dollar for every one you catch up to twenty.

More than that and we reproof and remake the book. Email and it shall be done!

Contents

To Uncle Harris and all the Harris kidsDebbie, Bink, and John

And to all their kidsBen and John McGonagil and Erinn, Jenny, and Matthew Harris

And, as always, to Lee Pryor.

The glad tidings had barely arrived: On this particular autumn day, early in the twenty-first century, New Orleans was not going to end up in Davy Joness locker.

The weather service claimed that under certain unfortunate conditionsall of which had been present for hoursthe river would flood, the lake would flood, the land bowl between them would fill, and the city would sleep with the fishes. But Hurricane Carol had just veered to the west, sparing The City That Care Forgot, as has every major storm since Betsy in 65. The early-October near-miss was getting to be almost as much a New Orleans tradition as termite swarms on Mothers Day.

But you never got used to trying to decide whether to build an ark or not.

Everyone who could afford to had left town. Those who couldnt had spent the early morning praying to Our Lady of Prompt Succoror at least St. Expeditefor a quick fix.

Now that it was granted, Carol was still moving slow and dumping rain by the barrel. The city, unlike its usually playful self, was shrouded in a pall of gray. It was going to be this way all day, and maybe the next.

The schools were closed, and so were the city offices, but there was still power, and the phones worked. It was business as usual for many, if you didnt count the apocalyptic rain and the snarled traffic.

Both Talba Wallis and her boss, Eddie Valentino, were among those whod decided to play Russian roulette. But Talba had arrived at E.V. Anthony Investigations, not flushed with the triumph of having guessed right, but late, soaked, and out of sorts. Normally not a pessimist, she actually uttered the old Dorothy Parker line when the phone rang: What fresh hell is this?

Talba? said a voice she didnt know. Talba, its Janessa.

Who? she asked, in the confusion of the moment.

Janessa. Long pause. Janessa ya sister.

Janessa, her sister. Whom she had seen exactly once in her life. Who had let it be known she wanted nothing to do with Talba. And who, today of all days, was on the other end of the line. Talba hadnt come close to assimilating this when Janessa spoke again. I got a situation here.

What kind of situation?

Bad. Real bad. Can you come on over here?

It didnt occur to Talba to panic. She barely knew the girl. Janessa, whats going on? she asked calmly.

Im on Philip Street, just off St. Charles. She gave Talba an address on the river side of the avenue, in the Garden District, not at all the type of place Talba would expect to find Janessa. The Garden District was old, white, wealthy, stuffy, and way, way out of her sisters range of experience, Talba would have guessed. Janessa had impressed her as a young woman whod stick pretty close to her own neighborhood, and this wasnt it.

So, Janessa She was about to repeat her question when her caller hung up.

Well, hell. When she first found Janessawhich hadnt been all that easy, even for an ace PI and acknowledged computer genius (acknowledged by herself, at any rate)shed opened herself up to this. She wanted to help the kid, right? Apparently, that was going to require going out in the pouring rain. She selected an umbrella from the agency stand (the office manager, Eileen Fisher, kept a handy supply for days like this), and told Eileen she had to go out.

She drove her old Isuzu to the distinctly upscale, slightly familiar neighborhood, found a parking place, opened the umbrella, and stumbled to the address Janessa had given her, which she hadnt remotely recognized. She stared in surprise at the nineteenth-century mansion, realizing shed been there before, as a guest. But unless her sister was making house calls these days, she couldnt see Janessa there.

Janessa was still a manicurist, so far as she knew, and the lady of the house certainly had need of manicures. Allyson Brower generally looked as if she spent about fifty percent of her time getting ready for fabulous parties, and the other fifty percent giving them. The latter part was more or less accurate. It was one of these that Talba had attended a couple of months before.

She climbed the few steps, but she had no time to ring the bell. The door swung open on a young girl so vastly changed Talba wouldnt have recognized her on the street. Though her job was grooming other women, the Janessa Talba knew didnt go in much for grooming herself. She was overweight and unkempt, or had been.

This Janessa still had some meat on her bones, but her hair was now woven into gorgeous braidsprobably extensions like Talbas. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, but somehow the outfit seemed carefully chosen, certainly carefully fitted. It flattered her full figure.