Page 76 of Everyone’s a Liar

“That’s surprising,” she murmured, sending the older woman a smile. As if they shared secret. “I’ve heard all the rumors. Henri Benoit was generous with his fancy friends, but notoriously cheap when it came to paying his employees and still expecting them to work like slaves.”

“Well, I don’t think she minded the work. In fact, I think she was very fond of the baby she was looking after, but she said there was some sort of nasty situation and the child moved away. I never got the details.”

Was she referring to Giselle’s suicide? Or was there some other nasty situation?

“She didn’t tell you anything about what happened?”

“Nothing. In fact, she only mentioned her time with the family on a couple of occasions.” Flora squashed any hope that she had information that could help Livia discover why Stella was living in a fancy house owned by Adrian Benoit. “She didn’t like to talk about her previous work. In a lot of ways she was a very private person.”

Livia arched her brows. She must have been very private if Flora hadn’t managed to wring out any information over the course of several years. That didn’t necessarily mean she’d been hiding anything. The woman might simply believe in discretion when it came to her past employers.

“And none of the Benoits ever visited her after she moved into the house?” she asked.

Flora looked shocked by the question. “I sincerely doubt it. Folks like that don’t remember their old servants, let alone come visit them.” She glanced back at her own modest home, her lips thinning to a bitter frown. “But it’s the same everywhere, isn’t it? My husband worked in a bank for almost thirty years, but when he died do you think one of them ever came to see if I was okay or if I needed anything? All I got was a box of his belongings and a sympathy card. No loyalty these days, if you ask me.”

Hard to argue with that, Livia silently acknowledged. The business world was a cutthroat place. If you got sick, or died, they moved on to someone new without missing a beat.

“Do you happen to know why Estelle chose this location to settle?”

“Her parents were from the area. They passed several years ago, but that’s one reason she became a nanny for the Benoits. She wanted to be closer to home after her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Then, of course, she got her inheritance and was able to retire and take care of them full-time.”

“So her inheritance didn’t come from her parents?”

“No, I don’t think so. She mentioned her father had worked on a shrimp boat and her mother had worked at a nursing home. I doubt they would be able to save up such a nice fortune.” Flora sounded genuinely sad her friend was gone, but the envious expression returned as she stared at the house across the street. “I don’t know where the money came from, but something she said made me think it was a previous employer who’d left it to her. Enough to buy her own home and live a life of comfort. Lucky for her.”

Was it luck? Or something else? That was a lot of money to get from a former employer. Especially if she didn’t stay in one place more than a couple of years. Enough money that there had to be some way to find out if the “inheritance” had come from the Benoits, even if her uncle was scrambling to cover his tracks.

A problem to worry about later. For now …

Her lips parted to ask if Stella had any other friends she could chat with, but the sound of a car pulling into the driveway across the street interrupted her. The real estate agent had arrived.

Resisting the urge to ignore the interruption, Livia once again held out a business card.

“Thanks so much for answering my questions, Flora. And if you think of anything that I should know about the house be sure and give me a call.”

The woman reluctantly took the card, but Livia didn’t have any hope that she would call. She might enjoy a chat on the porch, but she wasn’t thrilled at the thought of some mysterious investor buying up property in her neighborhood.

Retracing her steps to Stella’s house, Livia slid into her role of real estate agent with a sense of relief. She’d been a professional long enough to appear calm and composed, even when her thoughts were a tangled mess of confusion.

Introducing herself to the middle-aged woman with dark hair styled in a bob and wearing a suit jacket and white slacks, Livia quizzed her on the expected topics.

Taxes, zoning, crime rate, HOA fees and school district.

As they spoke, they wandered around the outside of the property, before the agent used the pad key to open the door and lead Livia inside. As she’d suspected, it was empty of furniture and personal belongings that might give her insight into Stella Gates. It did, however, confirm Livia’s initial listing price. The high ceilings in the front room and the stone fireplace actually amped up the worth of the property. If her old nanny had somehow compelled Adrian to buy this place and give her a yearly allowance, she had to have an amazing amount of leverage over him.

Pretending to study the window frames and turning the faucets off and on, Livia strolled from room to room.

“Can you tell me about the previous tenant?” she at last asked in a casual tone.

“She was an older lady. No children or pets. And no smoking,” the agent was quick to point out. “And as you can tell she was very tidy. She kept the property in pristine condition.”

Too pristine. Livia headed into the kitchen, opening drawers in a vain hope of stumbling across a scrap of paper or old photograph that had been overlooked.

“I was speaking with the neighbor and she said that the tenant had recently passed,” Livia murmured, turning back to the agent as she conceded defeat.

“That’s right, but not in the house,” the agent insisted. “She was in the hospital.”

Livia sent the older woman a reassuring smile. “My only interest is making sure that the property deed has gone through probate and there’s no messy inheritance battle. I just had a deal in New Orleans that ended up in the courts when the kids couldn’t agree how to split up the profits. I’d prefer to avoid that if possible.”