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is it?”
    “Could be. The client’s trying to decide.”
    “That go over real good in this neighborhood.”
    “Do you drink alcohol?”
    “Once in a blue moon, maybe. Have me a beer or something.”
    “I see. Any particular favorite bar?”
    “No,
ma’am.
Never go to bars. Just have a beer at home now and then. Maybe at a picnic.”
    “Okay, do you like to dance?”
    “Way too old for that foolishness.”
    “Have any hobbies?”
    “I knit some; for my grandbabies.” So far absolutely nothing that could be done in public, where Talba could stage a chance meeting.
    “Belong to any social groups?”
    “Eastern Star; Ladies Auxiliary kind of thing at the church.”
    “Well, tell me about the rest of the family.”
    Williams described her son, daughter-in-law, and their children. No surprises there. They, too, if Williams was to be believed, had no particular interests outside the home.
    “Well, how about your job? Do you go to work?”
    “I’m a house cleaner. For a family Uptown. Been working there three years.”
    “You must like your job.”
    “You know anybody likes their job?”
    “I’ll take that as a no.”
    Williams laughed. “You shore catch on quick.”
    “Well, at least I hope the people you work for treat you well.”
    “Mmmph. Well, you can hope all the way home, Missy. Ain’ gon’ make it so.”
    “Are you well paid?”
    “Am I well paid?” Talba could hear her bristling, but she was ready. “Whose business that be?”
    “The survey is completely confidential, Mrs. Williams. Our client is trying to determine if the participants have the discretionary income to support an upscale restaurant.”
    “Beg pardon? Have the
what?”
    “That’s just a fancy phrase for excess cash.”
    That got a big laugh out of Williams. “Now, ain’t that a contradiction. Uh-huh. Excess cash. Sho’ do got excess cash.”
    “That means no, right?”
    “You one sharp little cookie.”
    “May I ask what your hourly rate is?”
    “You crazy? Callin’ up here axin’ how much money I make! Whatchoo think ya doin’?”
    “Well, actually, that was kind of off the survey. I just asked because my mama cleans houses for a living. She makes fifteen dollars an hour.” This was a blatant untruth, but Talba figured it might get results.
    “Well, I sho’ would like to meet
her
employer. My son ain’t well right now, and my daughter-in-law can’t even afford child care no more, him not workin’; she cain’t work but three days a week. I’m mos’ the sole support of the family right now.” Talba could hear the anguish in her voice. She was pretty sure Alberta was crying.
    And she was also on a roll. “Bad enough I got to clean that great big house without any help. Least one day a week he send me out to that filthy old marina he own—smell like a sewer. Ain’t even safe there; kid was killed there a while back. Sometimes I think that man the devil hisself.”
    Hello,
Talba thought.
A kid was killed there. Angie didn’t mention that.
“It’s none of my business, but why don’t you just quit and get a different job?”
    “When I’m gon’ look?”
    Okay, this was it. Talba prayed she wouldn’t blow it. “You know what? This could be your lucky day. What about if I said I’d do your job for you for two weeks while you look? I’ll pay what your present employer pays, plus a big bonus. Let’s say five hundred dollars?”
    “Why you doin’ this?” Alberta’s voice was charged with suspicion. “Who are you?”
    “Take it easy, now, Alberta. You just take it real easy. My name’s Sandra and I’m somebody who doesn’t like Judge Champagne any better than you do.”
    “Oooooh, I’m in a heap of shit! Whatchoo tryin’ to do to me?”
    “I’m trying to help you. You said—”
    “Call me up, tell me ya somebody ya not. Get me to say things…”
    “I
know
my mama could get you a better job. People are always asking her to work when she can’t. She’s got a great reputation, but