Page 62
“Write them down for me.” She watched in silence as Bob jotted down the name of three hotels before shoving the notebook back. She read through the list, not surprised when she didn’t recognize any of them. “These are all in New Orleans?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks.” Bryce rose to her feet, once again reaching into her purse. She pulled out a business card and handed it to Bob. “If you hear from Larry, give me a call. I think he might be in danger.”
Bob frowned as he studied the information on the card. “Rushville? Where’s that?”
“A little dot in the bayou.”
The man’s suspicions returned. “Why would you be looking for Larry?”
“Like I said, I just need to make sure nothing’s happened to him.”
With a nod, Bryce headed toward the door. She didn’t have much confidence that Gator Bob would call if he heard from Larry, but she at least knew that there was every possibility that Larry would reappear when he got tired of hiding.
Like sludge bubbling to the top of a landfill.
The trick was to be prepared to corner him before he could disappear again.
CHAPTER 16
The Willows
Saturday, July 5th
The engagement party was in full swing, allowing Livia the opportunity to slip into the shadows. From there she could watch the spectacle of designer-dressed guests mingling through the formal salon and spilling onto the front terrace. Livia didn’t recognize most of the crowd, although her cousin had assured her that there were a dozen influencers among the guests and at least two mainstream journalists.
Honestly, Livia had been mildly surprised by the mediocre feel of the party. And not just the guests who were on the lower rung of the social ladder. The food had been locally catered, not flown in from some chichi restaurant in New Orleans. And recorded music drifted from hidden speakers. She’d expected a stringed quartet at the very least.
It reinforced Livia’s suspicion that the Benoits were struggling financially.
Thank goodness her yearly inheritance came from a trust fund set up through her grandfather’s lawyer, and not left in Adrian’s hands. She had no doubt the account would have been emptied long ago.
Sipping from the glass of champagne she’d grabbed before the precious vintage was gone, Livia concentrated on Celeste as she stood in the center of the room, surrounded by her bridesmaids as the photographer weaved around them snapping pictures.
Was her smile just a little too wide? Her back a little too stiff? She looked like a woman pretending to be deliriously happy. And the gaggle around her didn’t even pretend. They were blatantly bored by their role as background props for the bride-to-be.
She supposed if you lived a fake existence built on image it was hard to be relegated to second place.
“Hello, Livia. You look like you’re enjoying the circus as much as I am.”
With a tiny jerk, Livia glanced toward the man who’d silently appeared next to her. He was about her height but twice as wide, with thick muscles that didn’t come from the gym. He looked to be a couple years older than her, although his face was deeply tanned and weathered, as if he spent a lot of time in the sun, and his dark hair had a few strands of silver. His eyes were a rich brown and they held a warmth that she didn’t often see from guests in this house.
He looked vaguely familiar, but the tux and black bow tie were throwing her off. It wasn’t until she noticed the crescent-shaped scar on the edge of his jaw that recognition hit.
“Robbie Broussard?” She instinctively leaned forward to give him a hug, relieved to have one friendly face in the dismal crowd. “Oh my God, I haven’t seen you forever. What are you doing here?”
“Your uncle invited me.”
“Seriously?”
Livia winced the second the impulsive question left her lips. She didn’t mean to be rude, but Robbie Broussard was the son of the gardener who’d kept the grounds at the Willows immaculately trimmed and the gardens in full, glorious bloom. During her summers Robbie would tag along with his father, and Livia would lure him away from his chores to play tag in the bayous or steal cookies from the kitchen. It’d been during one of their adventures that Livia had dared Robbie to climb on top of the family mausoleum. He’d slipped and fallen, busting his jaw on the way down.
He’d bled so much that Livia had been terrified that he was dying, but Robbie’s dad had assured her that she wasn’t going to be punished. He’d also added that Robbie needed his brain rattled for doing something so foolish.
Livia’s grandfather, however, hadn’t been nearly so forgiving.
It was the last time she’d been allowed to play with Robbie.