Page 54 of Everyone’s a Liar

Saturday, July 5th

Livia was showered and dressed in casual shorts and a white cotton shirt shortly after dawn. It’d been another restless night, but she wasn’t going to stay in bed. Why toss and turn when she could be out trying to answer the questions that nagged at her?

Pulling her hair into a ponytail, Livia headed down the backstairs. She’d assumed that she would be the only one up and about at such an early hour, but as she reached the bottom step, she could hear the clatter of pans from the kitchen and the sound of vacuuming from the front salon.

With a click of her tongue, Livia hurried toward the door that opened onto the back terrace. She’d forgotten the big shindig was tonight. The house would be buzzing all day with cleaners, florists, caterers, and the extra serving staff that had been hired for the event. Pure chaos. And a perfect excuse to get away from the Willows for the day.

First, however, she had something she wanted to do.

Moving along the edge of the terrace, Livia jogged down the steps and past the covered pool. She hissed at the sensation of an icy shadow reaching out, as if it intended to suck her beneath the canvas cover.

A part of her wished the family didn’t treat the pool as some sort of morgue. At least if it was filled with water and surrounded by chairs it wouldn’t feel like there was a perpetual gloom hanging over the place. People might even stop dwelling on how Giselle Benoit died and instead on how she’d lived. Another part couldn’t bear the thought of her mother’s memory being tarnished by plastic patio furnishings and beach balls.

With a shake of her head, Livia followed the path until she reached the garage. Then, tapping in the code, she pushed open the door and switched on the lights. She was careful to take a thorough survey of the interior before she fully stepped into the long building, and even then, she left the door open. She didn’t care if anyone inside the house noticed what she was doing. She was more worried about getting locked in.

Once convinced she was alone, Livia crossed the cement floor and climbed the steps to the apartment. A grim satisfaction settled in the center of her being. The door was closed and at the bottom a rubber wedge had been shoved beneath it.

Grabbing her phone, she leaned forward to take a picture. It hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. Someone had deliberately tried to lock her in the apartment.

She left the wedge where it was as she headed back down the stairs. She had proof that the door had been deliberately jammed, but that didn’t tell her who was responsible.

Still holding her phone in her hand, Livia felt the vibration of an incoming text. Glancing down, she read the message from Bryce, inviting her to come to the sheriff’s office whenever she had time.

Perfect. She stopped at the bottom of the staircase to let Bryce know she’d be there in a few minutes. Anything to get her away from the frenzied preparation for the lavish party.

She was taking a step forward when something near the workbench built against the back wall captured her attention. With a frown, she moved forward, bending down to grab the small pile of fabric. It was silky, with a bright gold-and-blue pattern. Not the sort of thing you would use as a rag in the garage.

Holding it up, she watched as it unfolded to reveal a long, narrow scarf. It was definitely for a woman. Maybe something to cover your hair if you were driving a convertible. Or maybe wrapped around your neck at a fancy nightclub? Lifting it to her face, she pressed the silky fabric against her nose. There was a scent clinging to the fabric. It was faint, as if it had faded over weeks. Perhaps years. And it was familiar.

Was it someone who lived in the Willows? Probably.

Absently folding the scarf into a small square, she stuffed it in her back pocket. There was every possibility that it could have fallen out of a car when someone was getting out. Certainly it looked like something her aunt would wear. Or even Helene.

But why would it be at the back of the garage? There was no dust on it, so it couldn’t have been there for more than a few days.

Battling the urge to connect it to the jerk who’d shoved the wedge under the apartment door, Livia headed out of the garage and around the side of the house. She had a spare set of keys in the glove compartment of her car. Not the safest choice, but she had a habit of forgetting her keys when she was hurrying out of the house in the morning or locking them in the office in the evening. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone was going to steal the crappy thing.

Skirting the edge of the garden, Livia angled around the corner of the house, intending to slip away unnoticed. It wasn’t until she caught sight of the front yard that she realized she’d miscalculated her escape route. Not only was the driveway already filled with delivery vans, but her aunt was standing on the bottom step of the porch, directing the florists where to place the large pots of flowers in front of the house.

Despite her elegant sundress and glittery sandals, Delilah looked like a general as she bullied the uniformed men to haul the heavy pots from one location to another, determined to have the perfect profusion of color as the guests arrived.

Livia slowed her pace, hoping to avoid detection, but with an uncanny ability to sense a deserter to the cause, the older woman swiveled her head to stab Livia with a warning frown.

“Livia. Where are you going?”

Livia shrugged. “Into town.”

Delilah marched toward her in full battle mode. “Why?”

“I’m meeting Bryce in town.”

“Who?”

“My friend. Bryce Swift.”

“Does it have to be this morning?” she demanded. “Have you considered the idea we might need you here?”

“Why would you need me? It’s not my party.”