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Apparently she needed to find Manny and ask him.

Just as soon as she figured out why Jacob Pearson had catfished her, why Winston had attacked him, and what the hell they were looking for in her underwear drawer.

CHAPTER 8

Livia escaped the tedious dinner before the dessert was served. It wasn’t like she was going to eat it anyway. But once she was in her suite, she couldn’t relax. Instead she spent the next three hours pacing the floor. How was she supposed to stop the questions that were spinning through her mind, like a hamster stuck on a wheel?

Only when she reached the point of utter exhaustion did she finally tumble into a deep sleep. Perhaps that explained why she didn’t hear her phone buzz at three a.m. In fact, it wasn’t until she climbed out of bed the next morning that she realized she’d received an alert from her home security system that there was movement on her front porch.

There was no way it’d been a deliveryman. Or even a curious neighbor. Not at that hour. It was possible that there’d been a stray dog that had set off the alarm, but she hadn’t bothered to connect the system to her phone before leaving town. Honestly, after Jacob disappeared, she didn’t think it was necessary.

Which meant she would have to go to the city and check the video from her house.

Pulling on a pair of khaki shorts and a loose smock top, Livia brushed her teeth and knotted her hair on top of her head before grabbing her purse and hurrying out of the house.

It wasn’t until she was starting the engine of her car that she grimly paused to consider what she was doing.

It didn’t seem dangerous to drive back to New Orleans to check out her house. It was broad daylight. And whoever—or whatever—had been sneaking around was long gone. But then again, what if they weren’t long gone? What if they deliberately set off the alarm in the hope she would come back to New Orleans? It could be a trap.

Ignoring her dislike of asking for help, Livia grabbed her phone to send a text to Bryce, telling her friend about the trespasser and that she was headed to her house in New Orleans. At least someone would know where she was and hopefully come looking for her if she didn’t return. She didn’t trust her family to care one way or another.

A second later, she got a text back from Bryce, telling Livia that she was coming by to pick her up and for Livia to wait by the front gate.

Reluctantly shutting off the engine, Livia walked down the long driveway and through the narrow door next to the formal gates. She was anxious to be on her way to New Orleans, but she was equally anxious to discover if her friend had information on Jacob Pearson.

She was left waiting for less than ten minutes when a brown SUV with a sheriff’s decal painted on the side stopped directly in front of her. The passenger window slid down and Bryce’s voice floated through the air.

“Get in.”

With a lift of her brows, Livia climbed into the vehicle and pulled on her seat belt. A second later, they were rattling down the gravel.

“Where are we going?”

“New Orleans.”

“Wait. I just wanted to let you know where I was heading. I didn’t mean you had to drive me there,” Livia protested.

The SUV picked up speed as they hit the paved road that skirted the edge of Rushville.

“I know, but I need to go to New Orleans, so we might as well combine our trips.”

Bryce was wearing a pair of jeans and a casual T-shirt, which Livia assumed meant that she was off duty. Then again, she was driving her official vehicle.

“Why are you going to the city?”

“I’m hoping to interview Jacob Pearson.”

Livia sucked in a shocked breath. “You found him?”

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“There’s no Jacob Pearson that matches the photo you sent me. At least not in our system.”

Livia released her breath with a harsh sigh. “Damn.”

“That was my first reaction. So last night I sent the picture to a friend in the FBI.” Bryce held up a hand as Livia stiffened at the thought of involving the FBI in her petty problems. “Strictly off the record, I promise.”