Page 111 of Everyone’s a Liar

Of course. Livia shook her head. It made sense now.

“It was you I saw in my house with Sutton.”

“I went there to tell him that he was running out of time. If he didn’t find the diary I was going to fire him.” His expression hardened. “Unfortunately, I didn’t realize you were there until Sutton sent me a text saying you’d seen us. I knew in that moment he had to go.”

“Go where?” Livia sucked in a horrified breath, remembering the bloated, decaying corpse of Larry Sutton. “Oh my God. You killed him.”

“What choice did I have?” Winston demanded. “You were a woman who’d been betrayed by her lover. You were eventually going to go looking for information on who he was and why he’d been sneaking into your house. Besides, he’d already learned that Stella Gates had sent you the diary. I could look for it as easy as him. And a lot cheaper.” Winston’s jaw tightened, as if he was battling a surge of anger. “Not that he made it easy. The bastard simply vanished after you caught him in your house. It took me forever to convince him to meet me in person so I could pay what I owed him. We met up at a bar and I followed him back to his cabin. It was isolated enough I didn’t have to worry about any witnesses, so I shot him as soon as he got out of his car.”

“Why tear up the cabin?”

“To make it look like a robbery.” Winston looked smug. As if he was proud of shooting a man in cold blood. And maybe he was. Livia was starting to think there was something toxic in the bayous around Rushville that made people go crazy. Or maybe the swamps really were cursed. “Plus there was a chance he had something in there that would tie him to me,” Winston continued. “As I said, I’m too smart to get caught.”

“You … ​wait.” Livia was suddenly confused. “When did you kill him?”

Winston gave a casual wave of the gun. “I don’t remember the exact date. It was a day or two before you arrived at the Willows.”

All this time she’d thought it was Sutton spying on her. Now she realized he’d been dead since she left New Orleans.

“It was you who tried to break into my house, wasn’t it?”

Winston still looked smug. “I found the key at the cabin. It was worth a try. I didn’t think you would have gone to the effort of changing your locks.”

“And you shot out my window here at the office.”

“A meaningless gesture, but Adrian kept demanding that I do something to distract you until Sutton found the diary.”

“He didn’t know you’d killed the man?”

“He didn’t know a lot of things.” He stared at her with an unnerving intensity, the space suddenly feeling way too small for both of them. “It’s a pity really.”

“What is?”

“That you’re the only Benoit to inherit your grandfather’s intelligence. He should have given you everything.” Winston aimed the gun at her head. “Too late now.”

Livia didn’t think, she just let instinct take over as she whipped her arm to the side, hitting the wall behind her with enough force to send shock waves of pain through her. She barely noticed as the faulty alarm was triggered by the vibrations, the shrill beep deafening in the cramped space.

Winston hissed, thankfully distracted by the unexpected noise. Livia didn’t hesitate. Bending low, she darted through the opening and slammed the door shut behind her. Then, saying a prayer of thanks that she still held her keys in her hands, she shoved the smallest one into the lock and turned it.

Inside the closet, Winston shouted in fury, banging his shoulder against the door. Livia raced out the back of the building, pulling her phone from her purse, and for what felt like the hundredth time in the past week, dialed 911.

Epilogue

New Orleans, LA

Mid-August

After weeks spent dealing with police reports, family lawyers, and persistent reporters, Livia at last pulled on her black A-line skirt and a sleeveless sweater before driving to her office.

It was a relief to know she would spend the day doing the things she loved: showing homes, meeting with potential clients, negotiating with contractors. She was ready to get back into a routine. Soon she would have to testify at her family’s trial, along with the one for Winston Durand. He’d been arrested for burglary and attempted murder. Neither of them would be easy to get through, but today the sun was shining and she intended to live in the moment.

Entering the front door, she glanced around the lobby, appreciating the recently painted wall and the large window that had her name painted in bold letters. It looked better than the old one.

“It’s about time,” Marcel drawled as he rose from his desk and crossed the room to make himself a cappuccino. He looked as handsome as ever in his gold-and-ivory–striped shirt that brought out the golden flecks in his dark eyes. “The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since we reopened. You are in fashion, my love. Everyone wants Livia Benoit as their real estate agent.”

Livia shuddered, but she refused to let the thought of the gossip ruin her mood. Her family was too famous not to be the source of avid fascination as they endured their spectacular downfall.

“They do say any publicity is good publicity.”

He turned back to her, genuine concern on his face. “I’m really glad you’re back. How are you feeling?”

“For the first time in a long time I feel good,” she assured him. “I’ve started sleeping through the night and the Willows is officially on the market. I never have to go back there again.”

Marcel reached out to grab her hand. Although Livia hadn’t been to the office since she’d found Winston in the storage room, they’d talked on a daily basis. Marcel knew everything that had been happening.

“And what about the request from your real father?” he asked in soft tones.

Livia shrugged. It’d been a shock when she’d received a voice message from Tara the nurse, claiming that Gerald Durand wanted to speak with her, and had even left a date and time she was expected to drive to his estate and meet with him.

Arrogant ass.

“I have no intention of visiting a man who denied my existence for my entire life. I’m cutting my ties to the past.” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “From today forward, I’m living in the moment.”

“Laissez les bons temps rouler?” he teased.

“Exactly.” With her first genuine smile in days, Livia headed for her office. “Let the good times roll.”