Page 30 of One Last Breath

“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.

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