Page 73 of Everyone’s a Liar

Leaning to the side, Livia glanced across the street to where an elderly lady wearing her going-to-church pantsuit was closing her trash can with more force than necessary. Livia arched her brows. Was the neighbor warning her that she’d been spotted? It certainly seemed like it.

Livia watched as the woman turned to head back into her house, her spine stiff as if she felt like she’d done her neighborly duty to scare off a trespasser. She was clearly the sort of person who kept a close eye on what was happening around her, and willing to take action when she thought it was necessary.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Livia squared her shoulders and sauntered across the street. She’d just spotted the local nosy neighbor. Every block had one. She was the perfect person to give Livia the info on who had been living in her uncle’s house and why they’d left.

Careful to stay on guard, Livia swept a professional gaze over the house as she stepped onto the porch. It was a bland, ranch-style place with a mixture of brick and green siding. The windows were small and most were covered by old-fashioned blinds that blocked the sunlight. A decent enough property that matched most of the other homes in town, Livia silently concluded, but it couldn’t compare to her uncle’s house.

Livia knocked on the door at the same time she reached into her purse to pull out a business card. Then, pasting a smile on her lips, she watched as the woman cautiously cracked open the door.

Up close the neighbor looked to be in her early seventies with iron-gray hair cut short and styled like a helmet. Her square face was deeply lined and her current expression was hard with suspicion.

“Yes?” she demanded, her voice gruff.

“Hi, I’m Livia, a real estate agent from New Orleans.” She held up her business card. “Do you have a minute?”

“No need to go on.” The woman glanced toward the card with a sniff. “I told the other real estate agent I’m not interested in selling. They’ll have to haul me out of this house feetfirst. Probably sooner rather than later, considering my heart condition and the incompetency of the doctors these days, but until then, I intend to stay.”

Livia’s smile never wavered. The woman might not be interested in selling her house, but she clearly enjoyed talking.

“I don’t blame you. It’s a charming house and it’s obvious that you take excellent care of the property,” Livia said in admiring tones. “And the neighborhood seems to be equally charming.”

“For the most part.” The woman’s tension eased and she opened the door another couple inches, allowing Livia a glimpse of her living room, which was crammed with heavy furniture and a collection of porcelain figurines. “There are a few bad seeds, of course. These days you can’t keep them out, can you?” She glared toward the yard next door where a couple of kids bikes were lying in the driveway along with an inflatable pool. “A shame.”

“Actually that’s why I knocked on your door.” Livia lowered her hand, still holding the business card. “Ms …?”

“Just Flora. Flora Gibbs.”

“Nice to meet you Flora. Such a beautiful name. The goddess of flowers, right?”

The woman looked surprised by Livia’s awareness of the origin of her name. “Yes. It was my mother’s idea. She was an avid gardener, unlike me. I don’t have her green thumb, unfortunately. My late husband used to say I could kill a plant just by walking past it.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Livia murmured.

Flora shrugged. “It was years ago. A sudden heart attack. It was a shock, but I’m glad he didn’t suffer.”

“You live here alone now?”

The suspicion returned as Flora narrowed her dark eyes. “I do, but that doesn’t mean you can railroad me into selling.”

“I would never dream of pressuring anyone to sell,” Livia assured her. “I’m here to represent an investment firm who is interested in purchasing private property in this area, but I’m only looking at homes that are currently on the market.”

The suspicion remained. “You mean they want to put some sort of business across the street?”

“Just the opposite. They want to buy residential homes to rent out, but only in safe, quiet neighborhoods with good schools, and only to tenants who have been through a thorough background search and who are willing to sign long-term contracts. That’s why I want to talk to a few of the locals. I need to be sure this is the sort of location they would want to invest in.”

Flora considered the advantages and disadvantages of Livia’s impulsive lie before giving a grudging nod. Clearly having a vetted renter across the street was better than risking an unsuitable owner who might move in and spoil her view.

“Well, as I said, there are a few less than desirable residents, but for the most part we’re good, God-fearing people who live in peace.”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear.” Livia turned so she was standing sideways on the porch. “Can I ask about the house across the street that’s for sale?”

“What about it?”

“Has it been empty for long?”

“About three months now. Ever since Estelle died.”

“Was Estelle the owner?”