Page 33 of Everyone’s a Liar
“Yup, no father listed.” The first thing Livia had done when she turned eighteen was get a copy of her birth certificate. She’d been deeply disappointed when she realized it wasn’t going to give her the answer that had haunted her for years. “It used to bother me. Now, I’m pretty sure I’m better off not knowing.”
“You’re probably right. You have enough family drama in your life.”
Livia rolled her eyes. “Beyond enough.”
“So what do you think they’re hiding from you?”
“Something to do with my mother’s death.”
It was the first time that Livia had spoken the words out loud and she was shocked by how right they felt. As if the truth had been lurking just out of sight.
Bryce sucked in a loud breath, as if Livia’s confession had struck a nerve. “Seriously?”
“What is it?” Livia demanded. “Do you know something about her suicide?”
“No. Of course not.” With a visible effort, Bryce managed to relax her stiff muscles. “Like everyone else in Rushville, I always assumed it was a suicide.”
Livia frowned at her friend’s strange reaction. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
“I think you’re stressed. But I also think you should trust your gut.”
“My gut hasn’t been very dependable lately, but since I’m stuck at the Willows for the next couple of weeks, I might as well indulge my curiosity.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“I’m not really sure. No one in my family will discuss my mother or what happened that night. They act as if mentioning her name is some sort of sacrilege to her memory. Even her room has been stripped of anything that might give me a clue to who she was or why she might have been driven to such an extreme need to end her life. No. Wait.” Livia had nearly forgotten the scrapbook she’d discovered. “I do have an idea. If we have some time we might swing by Lake Oaks Park.”
“Why?”
“I found a note my mother hid beneath her mattress, it said ‘Rice. Lake Oaks Park at 2 p.m.’”
Bryce sent her a confused glance. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.” Livia shivered, the sensation of a ghostly hand sweeping over her face. “Except for it was written on a page that was dated for the day after she died.”
CHAPTER 9
New Orleans, LA
Thursday, July 3rd
Bryce slowed the SUV, turning the corner onto a one-way street. New Orleans was like most older cities with clusters of areas that had fallen into grim neglect that were weirdly bordered by lavish mansions.
This neighborhood was worn and slightly shabby, but it maintained the elegant atmosphere of days gone by. Most of the houses were built in the Craftsman style with covered porches and dormer windows. They were perched on wide plots of land with driveways that circled behind the homes to hidden garages. A few of them had neatly trimmed hedges to block off their property, while others were cleared to welcome passing pedestrians. It was clearly a mishmash of aging locals who refused to give up their homes, and small businesses looking for affordable office space.
“That’s the address,” Bryce said, pulling into the driveway to study the house.
It was one story, although there was a window beneath the sharply pitched roof to suggest a partial attic. The siding was a faded gray with white shutters and a covered porch. The tall windows were wood-framed and obviously original, as was the ornate railing that framed the porch. It had recently been painted white to match the wooden sign that swayed in the wind: SUTTON PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS.
“This must be the place,” Livia said, the words sharp as if she was forcing them between her clenched teeth.
Bryce shot her friend a quick glance, noting the tense lines of her profile. Livia was practically vibrating with the need to confront the man who’d lied and manipulated her into a relationship before mysteriously disappearing.
“Do you want to wait out here?” Bryce asked.
Livia made a choked sound of disbelief. “Absolutely not.”
“Okay, but remember priorities.” Bryce pointed a warning finger at her companion. “We’re here for information first. Once we get the answer to why he lied to you, then you can punch him in the face.”
