CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

My confidence is somewhat shaken when I reach the Glens and remember that they consist of over a square mile of forest. It truly was chance that allowed me to run into Nathaniel the last time I was here. I could spend all day running in circles and not see him.

As the day wears on, I wonder if I should abandon the search for Nathaniel and follow my original plan of heading to the garden myself. Elizabeth did give me permission to be there, after all. True, she was only being polite and would most certainly prefer I not take advantage of that permission, but I would be acting within the letter of the law by journeying past the wrought iron gate toward the secrets inside.

On the other hand, Christopher knows of my intention. He is clearly disturbed by the idea of my following through. He could have told his mother, and she could have locked the gate so I can't enter. Even if she didn't, there's a chance she could be there now, or one of the other family members. I don't want to be seen, especially if I do need to dig and…

And I can't dig. Not now. I can't feign ignorance anymore. Christopher saw me. I told him I was heading to the garden. Why did I do that? I could have lied. I could have told him I was going anywhere else. Why did I tell him exactly where I was going?

I suppose in my arrogance, I thought I could learn something from his reaction. I'm not wrong about that, but all I've learned is that he's uncomfortable with the idea. I don't know why, and even if my assumption is correct, that there lies proof of foul play in Lila's disappearance, there's now no way for me to obtain that proof without putting myself in harm's way.

Of course, if the proof is conclusive enough, I can simply walk through the gate and head to the city. I can place a phone call to the police and not have to return to the estate until I can do so with a police escort.

But if the proof isn't conclusive enough, or if it isn't there at all, I put myself in grave danger. I could still flee, but who knows how far the Greenwoods will go to stop me?

If only I had thought this through before.

"So you've come back to visit the Glens."

Nathaniel's voice fills me with relief. I might accomplish something today after all. I turn to him and smile. "I've come back to visit you."

He gives me a smile of his own, but there's a hint of trepidation in his look. Perhaps he knows what I'm here for already. "I'm flattered. To what do I owe this honor?"

"You know something," I reply.

His smile vanishes. "I know many things. Whether I choose to share what I know depends on what you want to know and why."

I have him on the back foot, and I intend to keep him there. It's a gamble to be more insistent with him. He could tell the family I'm prying. But by doing so, he'd be admitting that he knows there's something to pry into, and I'm willing to bet he won't put himself in danger to do that.

"I want to know what happened to Lila Benson."

He sighs and shakes his head. "She left. That happens sometimes when people complete the job they were hired to do."

"But she didn't complete the job. Annabelle had a semester of school left when Lila disappeared."

"She didn't disappear. She left."

"Suddenly. With no warning."

"That happens to. Look, Lila and Annabelle… they didn't exactly get along, okay?"

"Annabelle hated Lila."

"Did she say that?"

"Yes."

"Then you already know the situation. Lila stayed because the pay was good, and—"

"The pay wasn't that good. Not good enough to justify staying here to tutor a girl who hated her."

Nathaniel's eyes narrow. "Okay. I'll avoid asking how you know that, but the point stands. Annabelle hated her, and eventually it became too much. Annabelle was about to graduate, so if there was any kind of contract involved, they either considered it fulfilled or decided it wasn't worth pursuing legal action."

"Or they solved the problem a different way."

He frowns, and his tone grows cold. "We're not having that conversation."

"Oh, yes, we are."

"No, we aren't. Because it's bullshit. You're making things more complicated than they need to be. Lila worked here. Then she left. And the family didn't follow up because she was a servant. Like you are a servant. Like I am a servant. Let's say I decided to leave today. Do you think Elizabeth and James are going to bend over backwards to keep track of me just because I've worked here for thirteen years? Or will they just shake my hand, give me my last paycheck and hire another gardener, then proceed to forget all about me? I'll give you a hint. It's option two."

"Then why did Lila leave her belongings here? Her clothing and her lesson books?"

He rolls his eyes. "Because she was brutally murdered. Is that what you want to hear? The Greenwoods are secretly Satanist cannibals. They sacrificed her to Molech and scattered the remains they didn't consume all over the gardens."

My self-control snaps. "Maybe you can joke about this," I shout at him, "but I take this seriously. I think she was murdered. I think she was hidden somewhere on this property. I think she's either buried under the geraniums in the garden you pretend not to know about, or some proof is there that will implicate the Greenwoods in her murder. And I'm not going to turn a blind eye to it just because it's more convenient to everyone else to pretend it didn't happen!"

"Why?"

I stare at him in shock. "Because that's not right! Just because someone is wealthy and powerful doesn't mean they should have someone killed!"

He sighs and rubs his temples. "I mean , why would they kill her?"

"Because she was investigating the murder of Deirdre McCoy."

"Who's Deirdre McCoy?"

"The woman Violet killed fifty-two years ago."

"Violet? Elizabeth's mother Violet?"

"Yes."

Nathaniel rubs his temples again. "Jesus, Mary."

"Stop acting like I'm crazy!" I spit. "Families like this abhor scandal. They would absolutely make someone disappear to cover it up."

"By creating another scandal?"

"No. Because they think they can get away with it. You might think it's ludicrous, but to the wealthy, it isn't. I've seen it before, Nathaniel. They believe they can kill someone hide the body and no one will look for fear of what they'll do. Too often, they're right."

"So twenty-five years before Violet even lived on this estate, she was rumored to have killed a girl, and Lila was going to what? Convince the police to open a cold case and implicate a woman with dementia in a murder from a half-century ago? And rather than let Lila make herself look like a fucking idiot and letting everyone scoff at her, they decided to endanger themselves by killing her? Think about what you're saying."

"I've seen it happen before."

"And you're going to stubbornly cling to that belief in the face of all evidence to the contrary? I believe that you've seen shady things. I even believe that you've seen murders. But the details matter. Have you seen a few bits of evidence that a former governess might have been murdered because she was investigating a murder a senile grandmother might have committed fifty years ago? Because that's a little different than covering up the year-old murder of the third member of a love triangle planned by a dirty old man who's screwing your unstable daughter." He notices my look of surprise and says, "Yes, I know about the Carltons. The Greenwoods vetted you before they brought you here, and word gets around.

"So think about that. The Greenwoods know who you are. They know you got two different people arrested for murder, but they still hired you and brought you here to work for them. You really think that they're covering up two murders but still brought the Great Detective here to clean their house?"

"Yes," I insist. "Yes." Tears are coming to my eyes. I hate them, but I can't stop them. "Lila Benson deserves justice. No one should just be allowed to disappear like… like they never existed. Like they never met anything to anybody."

He stares at me incredulously, no doubt amazed at the amount of emotion I feel over this. "Did you know Lila?"

"No." I wipe tears from my eyes. "I don't have to know someone to want justice for them."

He shakes his head slowly. "This isn't about justice. This is personal to you." When I don't respond, he says, "I'm going to leave you with two thoughts: One, Lila Benson isn't whoever it was close to you who was murdered, so stop projecting."

"Fuck you!"

The sound of those words leaving my mouth shocks me. I can't recall the last time I've used such a vulgar epithet. It concerns me that my self-control is so tenuous.

Nathaniel doesn't seem bothered by it in the least. "Two, if what you're saying is true, and considering that what I'm saying is definitely true, you should seriously think about letting this go so you don't become the second governess to disappear."

He walks away without waiting for a response from me. I stand there for a long time, long enough that I can feel the sun moving through the sky. My hands are balled into fists, and my body trembles with emotion.

He's right. Of course, I'm projecting. I'm upset that justice was never found for my sister, and I'm finding justice for others as a surrogate for Annie.

But I'm also avoiding. Before I was a schoolteacher, I was studying psychology. I know enough about the subject to know that I'm projecting so I can avoid confronting the real mystery.

I have everything I need to look into my sister's murder, but I'm not. Instead, the business card Niall gave me sits unused in my handbag while I embroil myself once more in another family's tragedy.

But I can't stop. I have to know. I have to find justice for Lila. And once more, Annie will have to wait.

I bury my head in my hands and weep.