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Bryce pressed her foot on the accelerator to send them racing down the highway. The traffic had thinned to a mere trickle as they headed deeper into bayou country, giving them an open lane to race past the empty wetlands. It wasn’t until they neared the turnoff to La Harpe that Bryce abruptly swung her SUV onto the shoulder and slammed on the brakes.

“What’s wrong?” Livia glanced toward the barren landscape. “Did you see something?”

“That sign.” Bryce pointed through the front windshield toward the faded billboard directly ahead of them.

Livia leaned forward, reading out loud. “‘Cypress Cove Landing. RV and Tent Campground. Hunting and fishing available in season. Next exit.’” She glanced back at her friend. “I don’t understand. What about it?”

“I’ve seen it before.”

“The campground?”

“No, the sign.” Bryce reached into her purse to pull out her phone, impatiently scrolling through her pictures. “This was in Larry Sutton’s apartment.”

Livia leaned to the side as Bryce turned her phone to show the image on the screen. It was Larry Sutton standing in front of a cabin holding a fish. Just over his shoulder was a sign that matched the billboard, although on a much smaller scale. She had a vague memory of seeing the framed photograph when they’d searched the loft above Sutton’s office.

“Okay. He visited the campground and caught—”

“No,” Bryce interrupted, using her fingers to zoom in on the sign. “See? The sign behind him shows that the campground is another ten miles down the road. Sutton is standing in front of his own cabin.”

Livia wasn’t ready to make the leap. The official campground might be ten miles away, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have cabins spread around the area.

“Why do you think he owns it?”

Bryce settled back in her seat, leaving her phone in Livia’s hand. “When I was asking Bob about Larry Sutton, he mentioned that Sutton and his wife lived in this area. That’s why he was so familiar with his bar. It wasn’t until his wife was shot and killed that he decided to move to New Orleans. He never said that Larry sold his first house. I just assumed he had.” Bryce clicked her tongue, as if annoyed with herself. “A rookie mistake. You know the old saying about assuming.”

“But what about the hotels he said that Larry used as hideaways? Why would he use them if he had a cabin?”

“Red herrings. Sutton probably pretended to stay at them to fool his target. Just like he did when he was dating you. Didn’t you tell me that he had you pick him up, but when you went back there was someone else in the room?”

“Yes.” Livia hissed out the word between clenched teeth, the same anger she’d felt when she’d realized she’d been catfished racing through her. “The jerk.”

“I doubt he ever stayed in any of the hotels he mentioned to his friend,” Bryce continued. “Instead, he bounced from girlfriend to girlfriend, occasionally sleeping at his office and keeping his cabin a complete secret. That way he would always have a safe place to disappear when things got too messy.”

“That makes sense.”

“It’s worth checking out.”

Livia sent her companion a confused glance. “We don’t have the address.”

“We know it’s ten miles from that campground.” Bryce nodded toward the billboard and then toward the exit. “If the cabin is on this road we should be able to spot it. Keep an eye open as I drive.”

“Okay.” Holding the phone so she could use the picture of Sutton to match against any cabins they passed, Livia turned in her seat to stare out the passenger window.

Bryce put the SUV in gear and they slowly pulled off the highway and rolled down a narrow road that wound its way through the thick, mossy ground and stunted trees. Over the past hour, low clouds had rolled in from the gulf, obscuring the sun and giving the impression they were wrapped in a dull gray.

Like a shroud …

The thought sent a chill down Livia’s spine, and once again she was certain there was a soft voice of warning whispering in the back of her mind. Could it be her mother? Or just a figment of her imagination?

Determined not to give in to a creeping sense of anxiety, Livia gritted her teeth and kept her gaze locked on the passing scenery. The wetlands were a flat expanse that seemed to go on forever. It should have made it easy to spot any buildings from miles away. Unfortunately, there were large tangles of overgrown vegetation along with dozens of road signs that blocked the view.

They crawled along at a snail’s pace, the road angling upward as they reached solid ground that swelled between narrow channels of water. The cypress trees thickened along the edge of the road, making it even more difficult to see the occasional cabin that dotted the patches of dry land.

“Wait,” Livia breathed, holding up the phone as she caught sight of a roof through the branches. “That looks like the frame of the cabin.”

Bryce swerved onto the shoulder and put the SUV into park. Then, unsnapping her seat belt, she bent down to pull her service gun from the locked container under her seat. Making sure the safety was on, she pushed open her door.

“Stay here.”