Sound of Fear

by Marta Perry

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON Barney gave the low bark that announced someone was approaching the cottage. A quick glance out the window showed Sarah Burkhalter. Amanda felt a flutter of anticipation. Would Sarah have been in touch with her cousin so quickly? Surely not on a Sunday. She’d seen the buggies roll out the driveway early this morning, taking them all to worship, and felt like a sluggard in comparison.

  She tamped down her anticipation. When he’d told her about Sarah’s admission, Trey had pointed out that the chance that the boy had anything useful to contribute was slim. After all, he’d apparently come upon the scene when Melanie was already dead. If there’d been anything else, surely the police chief would have known.

  Still, it was encouraging that Trey was determined to follow any lead, no matter how slight, that might give her some answers. That kind of meticulous focus on details was essential in her own work, and she appreciated it when she found it in other people.

  She opened the door before Sarah could knock and found a fragrant loaf of bread thrust in her hand. “We had this left from lunch after church, and I thought you could make use of it.”

  Sarah looked slightly uncomfortable, making Amanda suspect that the bread was in the nature of a peace offering. “Thanks so much. Mmm, smells wonderful. Come in. You have time for a cup of coffee, don’t you?”

  “You’re going somewhere, ain’t so?” Sarah nodded to the bag that was already on Amanda’s shoulder.

  “Just into town, but that will wait.” She led the way into the cottage’s tiny kitchen. “It won’t take a minute for the coffee.”

  “If you’re sure.” Sarah sat down at the round table, glancing around the kitchen. “Are you finding everything you need here? I’m sorry about the electricity, but most of the Englisch folks who rent the cottage are looking to live like the Amish for a week.”

  “They appreciate that, do they?” Amanda asked.

  Sarah chuckled. “I think they leave eager to get back to their modern appliances.”

  “You have everything a person needs here. I confess, I was puzzled at first over keeping my phone charged up, but it’s working fine to do it in the car.”

  “Gut, gut. Amos said maybe you’d want to charge it on the generator we have in the barn for the milk cooler, but I didn’t think you’d want to leave it there. Not that anyone would bother it.”

  “I’ll keep the possibility in mind.” She poured the coffee she’d reheated and brought the mugs to the table. “Milk? Sugar?”

  “Just black.” Sarah took a sip of the hot coffee, as if buying time. “I wanted to tell you that I have written to my cousin. I was going to telephone and leave a message, but it seemed like I could explain it in a letter.”

  Amanda hid her disappointment at the prospect of waiting for days for a response. “I understand. He’ll have a chance to think it over before he responds.”

  “Yah.” The slight frown between Sarah’s eyebrows suggested that something still troubled her. She gulped down some more coffee, and Amanda thought she searched for a change of subject. “Amos said you checked on the mare and the colt first thing this morning.”

  “They’re doing fine. He’s a good, strong little guy. Being demanding about being fed already, I noticed. The mare is getting her strength back quickly.” She grinned. “Horses get tired from the work of labor, just like humans do. But the little guy won’t let her get too relaxed.”

  “Ach, that’s a male for you,” Sarah said, her face relaxing. “You know how thankful we are for what you did. Doc Wilson told Amos he couldn’t have done it better himself, and Doc doesn’t go around handing out compliments.”

  “That was good of him.” She was unaccountably pleased.

  Sarah made it sound as if the elderly vet might have been serious about his offer. Not that she’d ever be able to stay here, given the way things were unfolding, but it served as a good reminder that she hadn’t been doing what she really wanted in her current job. No matter how this turned out, maybe it was time to make some changes in her life.

  Sarah drained her coffee and carried her mug to the sink. “I’d best let you be on your way. I just wanted to ask you to have supper with us tomorrow night. Unless you and Trey have other plans,” she added.

  She opened her mouth to deny that she and Trey had any plans beyond the job at hand, but then decided it was better to ignore the implication.

  “I’ll be happy to come to supper tomorrow. Thank you.”

  Sarah nodded briskly. If she wondered what was taking Amanda back to town on a Sunday afternoon, she didn’t ask.

  Just as well, wasn’t it? Amanda picked up her bag and followed her out, closing the door on Barney’s hopeful face. She wasn’t sure where she was going, and he’d be better off in the cottage than shut in the car for the afternoon. She’d take him for a good long run later.

  She didn’t know herself what she hoped to accomplish in town on a Sunday, but it had occurred to her to wonder about Juliet’s visit to Echo Falls. Juliet must have come here. She’d never have painted the falls from a photograph. Given what she’d written on the back of the painting, that trip had been in the nature of a pilgrimage.

  Juliet had wanted to visit the place where Melanie died. That meant they had been friends at one time, didn’t it? Maybe someone here remembered that visit. Maybe it had even been someone who’d known why she was here.

  Amanda considered that as she turned onto the blacktop road. No, that wasn’t likely, was it? There’d never been a hint that Juliet had any connection to Echo Falls other than that one visit. Still, it might be possible to find out where she’d stayed when she was here. Knowing that would help her put herself in her mother’s shoes.

  Telling you nothing, a voice jeered in the back of her mind.

  She wasn’t ready to give up, even though the chance of finding out anything about Juliet’s visit was slim. Actually, there weren’t many options for a place to stay. When she’d been looking for a place herself, there had been two bed-and-breakfast inns, an old-fashioned hotel that didn’t look as if it had seen a customer in a generation and one tavern that let rooms that Juliet wouldn’t have touched with a ten-foot pole. Neither would Amanda, for that matter.

  Driving down Main Street, Amanda realized she’d left something out of her calculations. Esther’s café was apparently an institution, and Esther was someone who took an interest in anyone who came through her door. She might remember something about Juliet. It couldn’t have been that usual to have an artist in town to paint the falls.

  Deciding to start there, Amanda took the first parking space she saw and walked to the café. A motorcycle roared by, disturbing the peace of the Sunday afternoon, and then the quiet sank in again.

  Closed Sundays read the neat sign on the café door. Of course. What was wrong with her? She should have remembered that Amish-run businesses weren’t open on Sundays.

  Well, the inns would be open. She could try there, so the trip wouldn’t be entirely wasted.

  Amanda turned from the café door and came face-to-face with a young woman. Thinking she wanted to enter the café, Amanda stepped aside so that she could see the Closed Sundays sign. But the woman moved with her, so that they were still facing each other.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  Amanda blinked. She’d never seen the woman before. “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

  “No, I haven’t.” The woman almost spat the words, and her pretty face was distorted with anger. “I’m Carlie Shay. Carlie Winthrop Shay. And you’re the woman who’s going around claiming to be related to my family.”

  Carlie. This would be the child of Betty Ann, Elizabeth’s daughter. She was probably in her midtwenties, expensively dressed in designer jeans, and a sweater that had to be cashmere. Auburn hair fell to her shoulders,
and her makeup was more suited to a fashion shoot than to Echo Falls. The suede high-heeled boots gave Amanda a momentary urge to ask where she’d bought them.

  Focus, she told herself.

  “You have it wrong.” Amanda kept her tone calm with an effort. “I’m not claiming anything—just trying to find some answers. I’m sorry if that’s uncomfortable for you.”

  “You’ll be more than sorry if you try to see my grandmother with this story of yours.”

  Obviously, Carlie was too angry to listen to sense. Tamping down her annoyance at the woman for staging a scene on a public street, Amanda pinned a meaningless smile on her lips. Probably the best thing she could do was walk away. She turned.

  Carlie grabbed her arm, her fingernails digging in. “Don’t turn your back on me. You think we don’t know how to deal with people like you? My father has already alerted our attorneys. You’re not going to get anywhere, so you’d better leave Echo Falls before you land in real trouble.”

  Amanda jerked her arm free. “You can’t—”

  Another roar of a motorcycle filled the air. This time, the biker pulled up at the curb directly in front of them. With the black leather jacket and black helmet, he looked like a character out of the sort of film she avoided.

  “You ready to go, babe?”

  He spoke to Carlie, but his contemptuous gaze was fixed on Amanda.

  “Just about.” Thrusting her face in Amanda’s, she threw the words at her. “Clear out. Or take your chances.”

  She spun and stalked toward the motorcycle. Shaking her hair back, she donned a helmet and climbed on behind, wrapping her arms around the biker.

  With a deafening roar, they drove off, leaving Amanda staring after them, caught between anger and curiosity.

  She hadn’t realized anyone else was nearby until someone touched her arm lightly.

  “Are you all right? You mustn’t mind Carlie. She’s a little overly dramatic.” The woman was slim and attractive, probably in her forties, with an open, friendly smile that contrasted sharply with the look that had been on Carlie’s face.

  “You left out rude,” she said lightly. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  She shrugged. “Carlie likes an audience. My advice would be to forget it. I’m Lisa Morgan, by the way. And you are obviously Amanda Curtiss.”

  “Am I that well-known?” she asked ruefully.

  Lisa smiled. “Echo Falls is a small town. Word spreads.”

  “I guess it does.” Should she ask if the woman had known Melanie Winthrop, or was that likely to result in another snub? Before she could decide, Ms. Morgan was already getting out car keys and moving toward a sedan parked nearby.

  “Don’t let Carlie worry you,” she said. “Good luck.”

  Left on the sidewalk, Amanda stared after her for a moment. The woman had probably acted on instinct, wanting to smooth over what had been an awkward scene to witness. But it had been kind, and she appreciated it.

  She could be about the age Melanie would be now if she’d lived. Did she remember Melanie? Still, if she knew why Amanda was here, she’d probably have spoken up if she did.

  Her thoughts returned to Carlie. If Melanie was actually Amanda’s mother, Carlie was a cousin...well, second cousin. Melanie would have been her cousin, though she’d died before Carlie was born. Strange family dynamics, she thought, but still, maybe not that bad, since Melanie had been pregnant at seventeen.

  Amanda hadn’t felt any sense of kinship with Carlie during that brief encounter—which meant probably nothing at all.

  “You look like you’ve been turned to stone.” Trey had come along the sidewalk without her noticing. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Are you following me around?”

  “Innocent,” he declared, displaying the Sunday paper under his arm. “Just walked down to the newsstand to pick up a paper. Did you know that was Carlie Shay you were talking to a few minutes ago?”

  “Oh, yes, she made that very clear. And she was the one doing all the talking, believe me. Basically, she threatened me with legal action if I didn’t get out of town. Or worse.”

  His face tightened. “The family wouldn’t be that dumb. It would bring on just the kind of publicity they’d hate.”

  “Are you concerned for them or for your client?” Did it say something about his attitude that his first thought was for the Winthrop family’s reputation?

  “Please,” he said, his eyes crinkling. “I’m not worried about them. Just being realistic when I say that Carlie’s father is too smart to allow himself a knee-jerk reaction, no matter how he feels about your presence.”

  She considered that statement. “If so, maybe it’s time I talked with him. I could clear up any misconceptions about why I’m here. I hadn’t wanted to approach them without knowing more than I do, but if they’re already talking about me, that time might have come. It can’t do any harm, can it?”

  “Not as long as you’re accompanied by your attorney and follow his guidance about what to say.” His grin softened the words.

  “Well, then...”

  He nodded. “Okay. You’re probably right.” Amanda sensed a certain reservation in his manner. “I’ll call him tomorrow and try to set something up, okay?”

  Amanda’s instinct was to do it herself, but if Donald Shay had already made up his mind that she was some kind of con artist, then like it or not, the approach would come better from someone he knew who was approaching him in a more formal manner.

  “All right. We’ll do it your way.” But she privately reserved the right to push if she thought Trey was soft-pedaling his approach to the man.

  * * *

  RELIEVED, TREY FELL into step with Amanda as she started down the street. This situation was delicate enough without having his client rocketing around town like a loose cannon.

  “I noticed you were talking to Lisa Morgan,” he said, keeping it casual.

  Amanda nodded. “She was yet another of the many people who know why I’m here. But she was nice about it. More or less apologized for Carlie. Or at least tried to smooth over the awkwardness of a scene on a public street.”

  “She’s that kind of person,” he said easily. “Though I’m not sure even her tact would be enough where Carlie Shay is concerned.”

  “She said Carlie was overly dramatic.” Amanda’s face eased into a smile. “I’d have called her something else if my mother hadn’t raised me not to use that sort of language.”

  “I guess.” Could he ask how she’d responded to Carlie without having his head bitten off?

  Maybe not at the moment. It could wait until she’d cooled down. Amanda didn’t even seem to realize it, but she’d been knocked off balance by her encounter with Carlie. Her cheeks were flushed, and her blue eyes still sparked dangerously. She walked as if she’d win a prize by beating him to the corner.

  She glanced at him finally. “Where are you going?”

  He shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the one with a plan, apparently. I’m just along for the ride. Or the race, if you prefer. Are we in a hurry?”

  Amanda’s smile was reluctant, and her gaze dropped. “My plan is to check out the two bed-and-breakfast places to see if anyone remembers my mother...Juliet Curtiss...staying there that summer eighteen years ago.”

  “That’s a pretty tall order, isn’t it?” he asked cautiously.

  “I suppose. And you’re not thinking anything I haven’t already considered. Even if someone remembers her, why would they know anything about what she did here?”

  He didn’t speak, because those were exactly the objections he’d had in mind.

  She took a few more anger-propelled steps and then slowed down, her expression easing. “It’s a slim chance, I know. But I couldn’t think of anything else to tackle this afternoon, and I
have to do something. I’m not used to sitting around waiting for events to unfold.”

  “Did you ever consider a little balance in your life? You know, so much time for work, so much time for recreation, so much...”

  “I didn’t come to Echo Falls for relaxation. Or to enjoy myself.”

  “No, you want to get the answers you need and hurry back to your life in Boston.” That should make him happy, but it didn’t seem to. “You could, of course, go back to your job now and leave this in my hands.”

  “I can’t.” She turned to face him, and the depth of emotion in those clear blue eyes startled him. “This is one of the gaps in my mother’s life that I have to fill.”

  “One of the gaps? Were there others?”

  “Of course.” She seemed surprised that he’d ask. “How much do any of us know about our parents?” Her smile flickered, and the dimple appeared and then disappeared. “We’re a pretty self-absorbed generation, I think. Or maybe that’s natural in your twenties and thirties.”

  It occurred to him that he’d always taken his parents’ history for granted. They’d led perfectly ordinary lives here in Echo Falls, he’d assumed, and he’d never had cause to question their past. That argued a lot of confidence on his part or maybe a lot of indifference. He didn’t care for that implication.

  “I really need to know more about where Juliet was at the time I came into her life,” Amanda went on. “My earliest memories are of an apartment building in South Boston. Looking at it now, I guess it was a pretty bad area, but I didn’t see it that way at the time. There were mostly older people in the building, and they made a pet of me, looking after me when my mother had to work.”

  “What was she doing then, do you know? Commercial art of some sort?” He tried to picture Amanda’s early life.

  “Of course not.” Amanda gave a reminiscent smile. “She was a waitress, like just about every newcomer in the arts. She couldn’t make a living from her painting then, but I remember her saying that one day things would be different. And they were. When I was about seven, she had a successful show, and she was on her way.”