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“Not that I’ve noticed,” Flora admitted. “But there’s been the real estate lady coming and going with people to look at the house.”

“No one else that might seem out of place?”

“Not that I recall.”

Livia swallowed a sigh of frustration. For now the intruder was a dead end. Time to move on to a new line of questioning.

“It’s a large place for a woman on her own. Estelle didn’t have any family who lived there with her?” she asked.

“No. She never married and she didn’t have any kids. After her parents died she was all alone in the world.”

“How sad.”

Livia expected the usual condescending agreement that an unwed woman deserved to be pitied. She got it all the time from her married friends. Poor Livia, all alone. Instead, Flora sniffed, shooting an envious glance toward her friend’s elegant home.

“I don’t know. She seemed happy enough. And why wouldn’t she be? She inherited enough money to buy a nice house and live in comfort with no need to get married. And as for kids …” Flora shrugged. “She told me that she’d had enough of children when she worked as a nanny. Never wanted any of her own.”

Livia’s mind went blank. Just like that. One minute she’d been wondering how to find a connection between Adrian and the churchgoing, tulip-loving older lady and the next she had a horrid fear she knew exactly how they were connected.

“She worked as a nanny?”

“Yes, she told me she started with a family when she turned seventeen. She’d always wanted to travel and they were heading to France for three years. After that, she moved from place to place. She preferred to be with babies and toddlers so she usually left after a couple years.”

Livia’s mouth was so dry it was hard to form the words. “What was Estelle’s last name?”

“Gates.”

“Stella Gates?”

Flora pursed her lips in disapproval. “She didn’t like the name Stella. She said she’d used it because her mother’s name was Estelle, but after her mom died she went back to using her full name.”

Livia pressed a hand to the center of her chest. Her heart was racing so fast it was painful.

“Oh my God.”

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Flora studied her with a concerned frown.

“I … ​no, I’m fine.” Livia sucked in a ragged breath, struggling to regain her composure. Now more than ever she needed a clear mind. “I just realized I’ve heard her name before.”

“Really?”

“I’m related to the Benoits,” she said, aware that Flora had barely glanced at her business card. She didn’t know her name or the name of her agency.

Flora blinked, as if wondering if Livia was simply bragging about her relationship to the powerful Benoit clan. Then, she appeared to recall something her friend had told her.

“That’s right. Estelle worked for the Benoits. It was at that place …” Her words trailed away as she searched her memory. “What was it called?”

“The Willows.”

“Yes, that’s it.” There was a hint of disapproval in Flora’s tone. Had Stella shared some stories about living with the Benoits? Or did Flora just resent rich people? She’d already indicated she had a chip on her shoulder when it came to the police. “She was there a couple of years, I think,” the older woman continued. “Did you know her?”

“Not personally, but I’m currently staying at the Willows. I had no idea their old nanny was the one selling this house when I drove to Slidell.”

“What a small world.”

“Amazingly small.” Livia didn’t have to fake her fierce agreement. “Did she ever talk about her life at the Willows?”

Flora’s features tightened. “Not really.”