Sound of Fear

by Marta Perry

  Elizabeth eyed her without, it seemed, much surprise. “In my day, young women of good family weren’t expected to have professions.”

  “Times have changed. Haven’t you noticed?” She softened the comment with a smile, inviting her great-grandmother to join her.

  Elizabeth didn’t quite smile, but there might have been amusement in her ice-blue eyes. “So they tell me. If you don’t want my money, and you don’t want to move in here, what do you want?”

  The question startled her, and she thought it deserved as honest an answer as she could provide. “Initially, I just wanted to find out if I’d been legally adopted. But then I realized I needed to know who my parents were. Not to do anything about, but just to understand where I come from.”

  Watching the wrinkled face, she thought she detected signs of approval. “Well, think about it. This is always your home.”

  Too bad she hadn’t said that to Melanie. But all of that was far too late, and she wouldn’t gain anything from pointing that out to a woman who was old and sick. So she just nodded, not wanting to say anything that could be misinterpreted.

  Elizabeth sank back in her chair, suddenly looking tired. “You’re like her, you know.” Her voice was becoming weak. “Like what she might have been.”

  “Thank you.” Touched, she moved to Elizabeth’s chair and bent to kiss her cheek lightly, surprising herself as much as her great-grandmother. “You’re getting tired. I’ll leave you to rest.”

  Perhaps it was a measure of how exhausted she was that Elizabeth didn’t protest.

  Amanda slipped out into the hallway, hoping for a quick escape, only to find Betty lingering outside the door. Listening?

  “I didn’t know you were here until I heard your voice. I mean, I just happened to be passing and heard you.” Betty twisted her hands together with an ineffectual motion. “I hope my mother’s all right. She shouldn’t be tired. I mean, I know you wouldn’t mean to tire her, but...”

  Amanda broke in before the woman could say everything all over again. How the decisive Elizabeth came to have a daughter as uncertain as Betty, she couldn’t imagine. Or maybe she could. It might be the natural result of having a mother like that.

  “She did seem to be tiring, so I came away.” She started down the stairs, aware of Betty behind her.

  “You shouldn’t mind all the things she says, you know. Like that business of having you move in here. Not that you wouldn’t be welcome, but you have a lovely home in Boston to return to. It’s not as if you’d be settling down in Echo Falls, of all places.” A nervous laugh punctuated the words.

  When she reached the bottom, Amanda swung around to face her. “You don’t need to worry. Even if I stayed in Echo Falls, I wouldn’t move in.” What was she saying? Was she really thinking of such a plan?

  Betty flushed and stared at her for a moment. Shocked by the possibility Amanda suggested? Then she found her tongue.

  “Donald will talk to her, so don’t worry. He always knows just what to say to help her understand. Donald takes care of everything.”

  Does he? Including getting rid of inconvenient heirs who might have a claim to his mother-in-law’s estate?

  She’d been focused on Carlie, but Donald might equally well have found Shawn a useful tool.

  And she suspected he’d be far more dangerous than Carlie ever could be.

  * * *

  TREY HAD FINALLY succeeded in talking Amanda into going out to dinner, but it had taken some persuading. She probably didn’t relish the idea of being stared at, but after all, no one could fault her because her dog happened to find a body.

  He’d taken her to his favorite upscale restaurant in Echo Falls, which was also the only upscale restaurant in town. Bobby’s was, despite its unpretentious name, a haven for local foodies and the only place that didn’t equate good dinners with mountains of food.

  Taking a last bite of her coq au vin, Amanda leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “I take back any disparaging thought I had about the quality of dining in Echo Falls. That was wonderful.”

  “Bobby Felder grew up in the area. Went off to culinary school when his friends were headed to trade school or college, and came back to start a restaurant. People looked askance at the menu at first, but once they’d given it a try, you can’t keep them away.”

  “I can see why. And the atmosphere is great, as well as the food.” She glanced around with satisfaction. Their table was screened by a latticework partition that lent it an illusion of privacy, and candlelight gleamed on the white tablecloth and the gold-rimmed china.

  “See? I told you no one would stare at you in here.” He reached across the table to touch her fingers. “Nobody imagines it’s our fault for stumbling across a body.”

  “I guess I was being hypersensitive,” she admitted. “But you can’t deny my presence has led to considerable talk. Do you suppose everyone here knows about my relationship to the Winthrop family?”

  He grinned. “By this time they probably know everything down to your shoe size and your fourth grade teacher back in Boston.” He hesitated. “Speaking of Boston, have you talked to McKinley yet about your mother’s will?”

  “I called him earlier.” She was frowning, looking down at their entwined fingers. “I asked him to sound out Juliet’s brother on a possible settlement. The one thing George is adamant about—he wants the house.”

  Trey tried unsuccessfully to guess her thoughts. Would she give up the place that had always meant home to her?

  “I suppose he thinks he’ll get a substantial sum if he sells. Property must have appreciated substantially in that area.”

  She nodded. “It makes sense to let it go, I guess. As Jacob said, memories live in the heart, not in a place.”

  She’d let her father come pretty far into her life if she was ready to take his advice about something so important to her.

  “It makes sense,” she repeated, as if arguing with herself. “My head knows that. But my heart is giving me grief. It seems so final—as if I’m cutting myself off completely from the life I led in Boston.”

  “You said yourself you were ready to move on,” he reminded her.

  “I know.” She gave him the hint of a smile. “Silly, isn’t it? Among other things, it’s foolish to hang on to a place where I’ll never live again. What would I do with it? I’d have to rent it just to pay the taxes, and there’d still be strangers living there, even though I’d own it.”

  “Sounds as if you’ve made up your mind,” he pointed out. “You’re just reluctant to cut the last cord.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?” She flashed the words back at him. “If it was your family home?”

  “Probably.”

  The admission seemed to defuse her, and her face relaxed. He didn’t really have a right to give an opinion on what she did with her childhood home. But he found he was wishing she wanted his opinion, anyway.

  He noticed the waiter heading their way with a dessert menu in hand.

  “Dessert? They do a wonderful crème brûlée, I hear.”

  “I couldn’t possibly. Just coffee.”

  Trey ordered the coffees. Amanda seemed content just to sit and relax, and he suspected it was a relief to get away from the pressures of her newly found families. He’d love to know what happened when Elizabeth Winthrop sent for her earlier, but she probably needed the respite more.

  Movement flashed at the corner of his eye, and Trey turned to discover that Amanda’s respite, such as it was, was over. Carlie Shay was bearing down on them, eyes flashing. Amanda noticed her, her face tightening, hands bracing against her chair as if she prepared for battle.

  “Enjoying yourselves? Celebrating coming into money, maybe?”

  He could only be thankful that Carlie, with some slight instinct for propriety, had kept her voice dow
n. That restraint probably wouldn’t last. He put a handful of bills on the check folder the server had left on the edge of the table.

  “How are you, Carlie?” He spoke before Amanda could respond. “Having dinner?”

  Deflected from Amanda, Carlie glared at him. “I heard you were here. Thought I’d take the chance to have a word or two with my cousin.” She said the word as if it were poison.

  “This isn’t the time or place...” he began, but Amanda silenced him with a gesture.

  “I’m sorry about your friend’s death.” She kept her voice even. “I don’t think harassing me is going to do you any good.”

  “Not with my grandmother.” She shot the words like arrows. “You saw to that, didn’t you? Sweet-talking the old woman into writing you into the will.”

  “I’ve said it often enough. I don’t care about her money. She believes me. It’s too bad you find it impossible.”

  The Winthrop fortune clearly meant a great deal to Carlie. Independence, he supposed. She couldn’t understand that Amanda didn’t see it that way.

  He rose. “We’re just leaving. I’d suggest you discuss your problems in private with your grandmother, instead of in a public place.”

  Carlie turned on him, and the venom in her face shocked him. “I saw the two of you holding hands. Looking to redeem your family firm by snuggling up to the new heiress, are you?”

  “Trey is my attorney. That’s all.” Amanda picked up her bag, clearly ready to get out of this situation before it worsened.

  Wasn’t he more than just her attorney? He shoved that question away. Whatever Amanda felt for him, she’d hardly announce it to Carlie.

  “Tell that to someone who might buy it. You trust him, don’t you? Depend on him to advise you? But then, you don’t know much about Trey Alter or his firm, do you?”

  “This is useless.” Amanda stood. “I’m not interested in what you have to say.” She turned to push her chair in, moving toward him.

  “No?” Again that venomous look speared him, but now it shouted a sense of triumph.

  Trey knew, suddenly, what she was going to say. And he couldn’t stop her.

  “I don’t suppose you know that Trey’s father represented the family at the time of your mother’s scandal. Or that he’s the one who made the arrangements to have her sent away from her family. They’d do anything to protect the precious Winthrop name, and Trey’s father helped them, didn’t he?” She threw that at Trey, clearly enjoying herself.

  Amanda stood still for a moment, face and body frozen. She turned, very slowly, to look at him. It was as if she didn’t see anything else.

  “Is it true?”

  Cursing himself for not telling her the whole thing as soon as he learned it, he reached toward her. “Amanda, listen to me. It’s not the way she makes it sound.”

  “Is it true?” She wouldn’t be deflected, looking at him as if she could see right through him.

  “Yes. But...”

  There wasn’t time to say more. Amanda spun, walking quickly toward the door.

  He should go after her. Try to explain. But he knew at this moment it wouldn’t do any good. He’d kept something important from her, torn by his conflicting loyalties. And now it had come back to tear their relationship to bits.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  WHEN AMANDA DREW into the lane at the farm, Sarah popped out of the house. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, not even Sarah, with her warmth and instant sympathy. She’d rather crawl into a hole and suffer in silence. Or rage in solitude, anyway.

  She had to stop, with Sarah standing right by the lane. But she didn’t have to get out. Amanda let down the driver’s window.

  “Did you have a nice dinner?” Sarah glanced back down the lane. “Didn’t Trey follow you home?”

  “A lovely dinner.” She managed a smile. “Trey had other things to do. I think I’ll go on up to the cottage.” She reached for the window switch.

  “But I have coffee and cherry pie all ready. Don’t you want to come in?”

  “I’m too full to eat anything else. And I really am tired.” She pressed the switch and the window started up. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

  The closing of the window cut off anything else Sarah might have said. Amanda pressed on the gas, hoping she hadn’t been rude, but unable to face any questions at the moment. Maybe by morning she’d be over the worst of it.

  But somehow she didn’t think so. It was dark once she was under the trees, and she slowed, watching as a rabbit scuttled out of her headlight beams. The cottage looked lonely, despite the fact that she’d left the porch light on.

  There was nothing to fear now, she reminded herself. Shawn had clearly been the person who’d prowled around the cottage. Witness the scrap of black denim Barney had snatched. And Shawn was beyond hurting anyone now. Besides, Barney would be raising a storm if there were anyone else around. Other than his single welcoming bark, he was quiet.

  Still, she crossed the space between the car and the front door quickly, the key in her hand. Unlocking the door, she opened it to Barney’s effusive welcome.

  “Yes, I know, you’re glad I’m back. And you want to go out. Go ahead.” She gestured, and he darted off the porch and began nosing around the bushes.

  Amanda went inside, closing the door and leaning against it. She felt as if she’d been beaten with sticks. Who would have guessed that betrayal could have such a physical, as well as emotional, shock?

  How could he? She clenched her hands into fists. How could Trey let her down that way?

  All right, rationally she could concede that he wasn’t to blame for what his father had done all those years ago. But he hadn’t told her. In all the times they’d talked about what happened to Melanie, he’d never mentioned his father’s involvement.

  She struggled to remember exactly what he had said. Something to the effect that his father’s firm had once represented the Winthrop family, but that they’d come to a parting of the ways over Melanie. Maybe they had, but not before his father had been complicit in sending her off to that institution. And Trey hadn’t told her.

  He’d lied to her. She’d thought he was different—thought that what was beginning between them might be the real thing. She’d actually toyed with plans for moving here. And all the time he’d been lying to her.

  She’d been lied to before. In fact, she must have a genius for picking men who deceived her.

  Barney scratched at the door, and she opened it and let him in. Patting him, refilling his water dish, locking the cottage, all the mundane chores seemed to settle her. At least she no longer felt as if she’d bounce off the walls in her anger and frustration.

  But the pain was still there—an actual heaviness in her heart. She rubbed her chest as if that would help, but of course it wouldn’t. The only thing that would heal this wound was time, and a lot of it.

  And space, she realized. How could she expect to dismiss Trey Alter from her thoughts when she was here, where everything reminded her of him? With an abrupt decision, she stalked into the bedroom, pulled out her suitcase and began throwing things into it.

  Run away, Amanda. Run away like you did before. But the last time she’d had her mother to run home to. Now she didn’t have anyone. The house in Boston was just a house, not home any longer.

  The loneliness swept over her, even stronger than she’d felt it when she’d learned she wasn’t Juliet’s biological child. She sank down on the bed, dropping the tops she’d been about to put into the suitcase. What next?

  A knock on the door sent Barney running, as if he’d answer it. His tail wagged, and he let out his single welcome bark. It was someone he knew, obviously. Trey. The name brought with it an instinctive shiver, before common sense asserted itself. It couldn’t be Trey, because she’
d have heard his car. Sarah must have come to see what was amiss. She wouldn’t have been fooled by Amanda’s manner.

  But when she opened the door, already framing words of excuse in her mind, she saw it was Jacob. Impossible to shut the door in her father’s face, she stepped back, motioning him in.

  Once inside, he patted Barney, but his gaze never left her face. “Sarah told me something is wrong. She’s worried about you.”

  Amanda turned away from that probing gaze. “I’m all right. She shouldn’t worry about me.”

  “She can’t help it. She loves you, ain’t so?” His voice was gentle. “So do I.”

  Amanda blinked back the tears that welled in her eyes. Then she looked at him, seeing the warmth and concern in blue eyes that were very like her own. “I know. I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m all right. I just don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t make for the door. Instead he perched on the arm of the sofa. “I haven’t known you as a daughter for long, but I know what I would say to any of the other kinder right now. Trouble shared is trouble halved. I’m here to listen, whatever you want to say.”

  The tears were persistent, and she had to wipe them away this time. “Thank you. Someone has...disappointed me. Someone I relied on.”

  “Trey, ain’t so?” He hesitated. “He seems like a good man, from what I’ve seen and what Amos and Sarah know. Is it maybe just a misunderstanding?”

  She shook her head. “He kept something from me. Something important. He didn’t deny it.”

  “So you’re thinking you will leave?” He smiled when she glanced up, startled. “The bedroom door is open. I can see the suitcase you were packing.”

  Why should she feel guilty? She would have told him, given time. “There are a lot of things to be taken care of in Boston. My attorney there has been asking me to come back. I really should go and deal with the issues there.”

  Not that she’d even considered doing it until this moment. Her father’s face was a study in disappointment. “Do you have to go right away? I had hoped we could spend some more time together.”