Marta Perry - Sound Of Fear

Amanda slid back on the chair, sending Trey a look that might have contained a little triumph. “That would be the only definitive answer to my parentage, but I’d want to feel more sure of the facts myself before I’d even ask them to do that. So I hoped you might help me.”

“How?” The chief’s gray eyes became guarded. He might be sympathetic to Amanda, but he wouldn’t be eager to alienate Elizabeth Winthrop.

She hadn’t mentioned the need to find out whether or not she’d been legally adopted, but Carmichaels didn’t need to know the importance of determining that. He couldn’t know anything.

“Just tell me anything you remember about what happened when Melanie died. For instance, were you able to find out when Melanie had arrived back in town?”

He seemed to look at that question from every angle before deciding to answer it. “No, we weren’t. That was odd. We couldn’t even find out how. She hadn’t come on the bus, and there was no abandoned car that might have belonged to her.”

So the police had been more thorough than Trey had thought. Mike would have been a patrolman then, and Clifford Barnes the chief. Too bad Clifford wasn’t around any longer to answer any questions.

“Strange,” Trey said while Amanda seemed to digest the chief’s words, sifting them for anything useful. “It almost sounds as if someone drove her to town and dropped her off. But if so, you’d expect them to come forward when she died.”

Carmichaels moved as if he’d suddenly found his chair uncomfortable. “Unless she’d been hitchhiking and was dropped off by a stranger. That was what Chief Barnes decided must have happened.”

“You didn’t agree?” Amanda was onto the doubt in his voice in an instant.

But he stiffened. “It wasn’t my business to disagree with the chief.” He shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t in on any of the decision-making. Too high up for me at that stage.”

To forestall Amanda making another remark about toadying to the powerful, Trey broke in with a question. “What about the person who found her? I never did hear who that was.”

“An Amish kid from one of the nearby farms, it was. Course there weren’t any cell phones then, even if he’d been allowed to have one. Way he told it, she was partly in the water at the base of the falls. He pulled her out.”

“She was dead already?” Trey asked.

Carmichaels nodded, his face grave. “As I recall, he realized pretty quick it was too late, but he ran all the way to the nearest place with a phone. You can imagine how long it was until we actually got on scene.” The chief fell silent, staring down at the green blotter on his desk as if he saw again that tragic image. “The chief and I got there first, but the rescue crew wasn’t far behind. I could hear them crashing through the woods with their gear while we were standing there looking down at her, all broken...”

He stopped abruptly, probably realizing he might be talking to Melanie’s daughter.

Amanda drew a shaky breath. She was probably trying to think what else to ask. “Do you know his name? The boy who found her, I mean.”

“Let me think a minute. It was one of the Miller kids, I believe, but I don’t remember which one.” He shook his head. “It’ll come to me. I’ll let you know when I think of it.”

“Why wasn’t there a postmortem?” Obviously that was still bothering Amanda.

“Like I say, that wasn’t my decision. Besides, it was obvious what caused her death.” His face tightened. “If you’d seen her...well, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. That’s a long way down, and nothing but rocks and water at the bottom.”

That shook Amanda visibly. He suspected she was finding it impossible to hold on to the detachment she’d had initially. It was probably coming home to her just what kind of Pandora’s box she was opening with her search.

The silence that fell was his cue to get her out before she had a chance to push too hard with Chief Carmichaels. He stood, holding out his hand.

“Thanks, Chief. It was good of you to answer my client’s questions.”

He shrugged it off. “No problem. After all these years, I’d think it’s impossible to find out much of anything, but I can understand why Ms. Curtiss wants to know.”

Amanda stood, managing a smile. “Thank you. If I have any other questions, I hope I can come to you.”

Carmichaels’s expression stiffened, but he nodded. He went to the door and opened it, obviously just as glad to see them out.

A wave of sympathy swept over Trey as he walked beside Amanda out of the office. Amanda was still grieving the loss of the woman who had always been her mother. Now she had the challenge of mourning a birth mother, as well. How did anyone cope with that load of trouble?

CHAPTER FIVE

DARKNESS SEEMED TO fall earlier here than in the city. Especially when she was alone in the cottage with just Barney for company. Amanda knew that was an illusion, caused by the lack of ambient light in the surroundings, but it was isolating.

She crumpled the paper in front of her and tossed it in the direction of the trash can. And then got up to throw it into the can when it landed on the floor.

Barney, who’d been lying on the rug he’d appropriated as his own, raised his head and looked at her.

“I know, I know. I’d better give it up for a bad job.”

She’d been trying to compose a letter to Elizabeth Winthrop, explaining the situation and asking for an interview, but she couldn’t find the right words. One draft had sounded pleading, another vaguely threatening. Neither was the impression she wanted to make on the woman who might be her great-grandmother.

There had been a photo of Elizabeth accompanying one of the newspaper articles—obviously a staged head shot. Even in that, the lined face had portrayed both grimness and determination. A woman with a face like that wasn’t likely to be guided by emotion.

At least Amanda’s research had given her a clearer picture of the Winthrop family. Melanie had been the daughter of Elizabeth’s only son. He and his wife had been killed in a plane crash when Melanie was only a few months old, leaving Elizabeth to raise their child.

Elizabeth had a daughter as well, Betty Ann, who was much younger than her brother. An afterthought? An accident? Who could say?

Betty Ann was married to Donald Shay. From what Amanda had been able to glean, Shay ran the mill and managed the various properties owned by the family.

Aunt Betty. Uncle Donald. No, she didn’t imagine she’d ever be on those terms with them. Especially when she couldn’t compose a simple letter stating her case. All of this searching and interviewing was frustrating, when a DNA test could give the answer.

And it still wouldn’t tell her whether Juliet had legally adopted her. If Robert’s investigators weren’t able to find anything one way or the other, what then? Did she have any rights at all? She and Robert hadn’t discussed the worst-case scenario, and maybe they should have. Juliet had referred to Amanda as her daughter in her will. She’d think that would count for something with a judge, assuming it went that far.

She could ask Trey, she supposed. Always assuming he wasn’t fed up with her and her problems. She’d lost her temper with him earlier. Or maybe it was fairer to say that they’d both been exasperated with each other, but he’d been the first to extend an olive branch.

Barney raised his head again, but this time he wasn’t looking at her. He stared for a long moment at the front window of the cottage, as if looking for something out there in the dark.

“What is it, boy?” She went to the window and peered out, but could see nothing. The darkness was complete except for the rectangle of yellow light that lay across the porch from the window. “There’s nothing.”