I knew what the reply would be before it came out of Zelda’s mouth. “I’m sorry, but that is confidential.”

CHAPTER 33

“I can’t believe we got roughed up by a little ole lady,” said Jesse. Two hours later, he was still obsessing about how Zelda had routed us. “She’s the size of Yoda. We should have distracted her and grabbed her files.”

“It’s too late for that,” I pointed out.

“You sure this is gonna work?”

“No,” I answered honestly. “But it’s all we’ve got.”

We’d gotten our first break of the day when we located Gillian Kendall, the yoga instructor at Idylhaven. All I’d had to do was call directory assistance with her name and street; it was my second lucky break of the day. Gillian was sweetly sympathetic when I told her about Claudia, but she hadn’t heard that Claudia was missing, and she’d barely known my sister. Worse, she had never even met Trina Greene. But Gillian had been incredibly helpful in one way, giving me the name of an Idylhaven patient who’d been at the facility for most of the past year. “Mavis has OCD and she self-medicates with ketamine, but when she’s inside Idylhaven, she’s fine,” Gillian had promised me. Idylhaven residents didn’t have phones in their rooms, so I was going to have to meet this girl face-to-face to find out what she knew about Claudia and Trina.

“Just drop me off here,” I told Jesse at the turn off the highway. He tried to protest, but I cut him off. “You can’t argue. If Zelda hears the car and looks out the window, I’m toast.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Have it your way. I’ll be twiddlin’ my thumbs right here.”

The driveway was longer that I remembered from the drive in, and it was covered in snow with glare ice underneath. My high-heeled boots were perfect for peacocking around New York, but they were no match for a Massachusetts winter. I slowly made progress towards the manor house, hugging every other tree I passed. When I caught sight of the fountain, I could have cried with relief, but the tears would have frozen in my eyes. I slunk towards the side of the house, using the servants’ entrance that Gillian had told me about, letting myself in with the key tucked into the edge of a terra-cotta pot beside the door. There’d been a trace of bitterness in her voice when she’d told me that Zelda wouldn’t let staff members use the front door. It didn’t seem that the lady of the manor inspired affection—or loyalty—in anyone.