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The TV droned in the background as Bastian sat on the couch with his laptop. Ever since he’d found that driver’s license tucked between the mattresses in the master bedroom of the bungalow, he’d been digging up information on Beau Landry, and after three hours, he felt fairly certain he’d figured out what was going on.
The links that’d populated his screen were mostly newspaper articles about a young man—eighteen-year-old Beau Landry—who shot and killed his father because he believed the man had killed his mother eight years earlier. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to twelve years in a Florida state penitentiary, but he’d been living in Louisiana at the time he shot his father.
Except for the name, everything fit the Bo he knew. The caretaker his mother had hired was close to or the same age as Beau Landry. He was associated with Louisiana, just like Beau Landry. And he had Beau Landry’s driver’s license and credit cards.
Bo Broussardhadto be Beau Landry, but Bastian had yet to come up with a good enough picture to prove it, at least to others. He’d been able to tell from the driver’s license he’d found that Beau was Bo, but that picture was so old it barely looked like him. And the only other picture he’d found so far was of Beau sitting with his lawyers in court, which was partially obscured. It took searching through several more links to find one that was clear enough to determine if the two men were absolutely the same—and then it was unquestionable.
As soon as he found it, Bastian rocked back and laughed. His mother had hired an ex-con—amurderer. She’d been thrilled to get someone as capable as Bo Broussard, and she was naive enough to believe he’d never lie about his past.
“This is too much,” Bastian said, still laughing. He took a screenshot of the picture and grabbed the links of several of the articles he’d found online and sent them to the “fam chat,” which included both his parents and his brother.
It was Remy who reacted first.What is this?
Bastian couldn’t help feeling smug when he typed,Our caretaker.
Remy:Bo Broussard?
Bastian:You mean Beau Landry, the ex-con and murderer?
Remy:How did you find this?
Bastian:Does it matter? It’s real. Look it up for yourself if you don’t believe me.
A message appeared from their mother.Bo has been lying to us?
Bastian steadied his computer on his knees so he could type again.From the beginning...
Annabelle:You’re saying Bo murdered his father?
Bastian:That’s exactly what I’m saying.
Remy:He came to Mariners after spending twelve years in prison?
Bastian relished the opportunity to find fault with their mother.And then you hired him, Mom, he wrote.Didn’t you do a background check?
Annabelle:I don’t know how to do a background check, Bastian.
Bastian:Maybe you should’ve hired someone.
Annabelle:How was I supposed to know he wasn’t who he said he was?
Mort’s first message appeared.We can’t have a murderer working for us. Only God knows what he’ll do. We need to fire him.
Annabelle:Do you think he’s been stealing from us?
Bastian:Not that I can tell, but you never know. He certainly isn’t trustworthy.
Annabelle:I should’ve fired him when you told me he entered the house in the middle of the night! You need to stay away from him, Bastian. I’m going to call the police.
Bastian:And tell them what? That he lied about his background? They aren’t going to do anything about that.
Mort:Just fire him, Anna. I’ll start asking people I know on the island for recommendations so we can get a replacement as soon as possible.
Annabelle:I should’ve known he was too good to be true. He seemed so solid and dependable! I’m shocked!
That would teach her for taking Bo’s side over his, Bastian thought. She deserved to be mortified and embarrassed, so he wasn’t going to be too quick to accept her apology.
Remy:I have his number. I’ll fire him for you.
