Page 88 of Everyone’s a Liar

New Orleans, LA

Monday, July 7th

Livia was distantly aware of Bryce taking charge of the pleasantries as she thanked Special Agent Jonathon Rice for sharing his information and requesting that he contact her if he remembered anything else. She even realized that her friend had grabbed her upper arm to steer her out of the house and into the SUV parked in the driveway.

But she was lost in the fog that had wrapped around her brain the moment the FBI agent revealed that her mother had called him to report a crime. What had happened that prompted Giselle Benoit to go to such an extreme measure? And how far had someone gone to keep her from revealing what she knew?

“It can’t be a coincidence,” she abruptly blurted out, shaken out of her daze as they drove past the park where her mother was supposed to meet Agent Rice.

How different would her life have been if Giselle had managed to live long enough to keep her appointment? Would her mother still be here? Would she have exposed the Benoit family and raised Livia with all the love that had been denied her?

“What can’t be a coincidence?” Bryce broke into Livia’s bout of self-pity.

Livia turned her head to study her friend’s grim profile. “The fact that my mom contacted the FBI to report a crime and two days later she’s found dead.”

Bryce hesitated. “I don’t want to leap to conclusions, but I agree the timing is suspect,” she at last admitted.

“Why couldn’t she have just told Agent Rice what happened when she called him?”

“It would have solved a lot of problems.” Bryce shrugged. “But she was probably at the Willows. It’s possible that she was afraid someone might be eavesdropping on her calls. Back then, not everyone had cell phones. And even if they did, the service in such a remote area would have been sketchy at best.”

Livia nodded. Even now the cell service at the Willows was unpredictable. “True.”

“And maybe she wanted to meet with the FBI agent before she revealed her information to decide whether or not she could trust him.”

A chill crawled over Livia, as if her mother were reaching out from the grave. Livia shivered. It felt like a warning.

“It must have been so awful for her,” Livia breathed. “She not only had to choose between loyalty to her family and her conscience, but she couldn’t know who would help her and who might betray her.”

“Yeah, it must have been tough,” Bryce agreed.

With an effort, Livia battled back the looming sense of dread. They had a few clues. She intended to follow them regardless of the danger.

“You asked if she specifically said the word ‘crime.’ Why?”

They turned onto the road that would lead them back to Livia’s house. “In my experience, people say ‘crime’ when they’ve just experienced or witnessed a violent event. Like a mugging, or a hit and run or a robbery,” Bryce explained, slowing the SUV as they turned onto a narrow street. “But if they’re reporting a teller skimming money out of the till, or a fake charity taking advantage of the elderly, they’re more likely to say that someone is doing something illegal.”

Livia slowly nodded. It did make sense. “So my mom witnessed a crime and decided to contact the FBI,” she said, speaking her thoughts out loud. “It had to have been serious.”

“Agreed. That’s not something you do on a whim.”

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t help us figure out what happened or who was responsible for the crime.”

“It does take Winston and Celeste off the list.”

Livia frowned. “I suppose you’re right. Celeste wasn’t even born yet. Does that mean I made a mistake about seeing Winston in my house?”

“It’s possible.”

Frustration seared through Livia. She’d been so certain she’d seen Winston arguing with Larry Sutton in her bedroom. So what other clues had she gotten wrong or just flat out missed? The thought was enough to make her scream.

“One step forward and two steps backward,” she muttered. “How are we supposed to uncover a crime that happened almost thirty years ago?”

“I’m not sure,” Bryce bluntly admitted, pulling into Livia’s driveway. “We don’t know which member of your family committed the crime. Or where it happened.”

“Wait.”

Bryce turned in her seat to study Livia with a curious gaze. “What is it?”