Sound Of Fear. Marta Perry

herself, so her mother had apparently died young.

      “She had been caught in the cross fire of what the police thought was gang violence. In the course of the postmortem, it was determined that she’d never given birth to a child.” She met his gaze briefly and then looked away. “Robert and I assumed I was adopted, but we couldn’t find adoption papers anywhere. He’s started a search through court records, but without knowing where or when, it seems impossible to trace.”

      Trey tried to imagine himself in that situation and ran up against a blank wall. He couldn’t even begin to think what it must be like. His family roots went deep here in Echo Falls, where everyone knew everything going back several generations. “But you must have a birth certificate.”

      “I have a baptismal certificate from a church outside Boston that appears genuine, but that’s when I was three. What we thought was a birth certificate was actually a hospital form, not a state-registered certificate. And no such birth actually occurred at that hospital on that date.”

      Trey frowned, caught up in the story in spite of himself. “Your mother must have been very determined to wipe out traces of who you really were. If she were desperate to have a child...”

      “No. If you’re thinking she took me because she was mentally unbalanced...well, you never knew my mother. That’s not something she would do.”

      He’d reserve judgment on that one. Children weren’t always the best judge of what their parents would do. Come to think of it, that worked the other way around, too.

      “So you’ve run into a lot of blind alleys. But what brought you to Echo Falls?”

      She hesitated, and for a moment he actually thought she was going to call the whole thing off, say goodbye, send me a bill and walk away. But instead she took something from her bag and handed it to him.

      “Do you recognize that?”

      It was a photograph of what seemed to be a painting.

      The subject was familiar to him. “That’s Echo Falls.” He studied it closely. “But I’ve never seen that painting of the falls.”

      “My mother painted it. She was Juliet Curtiss. I don’t know if you’re familiar...”

      “Yes, of course. I read the account of her death somewhere.” That shed a bit more light on things. Juliet Curtiss most likely had a considerable estate to leave her heir, which was now in doubt. On the other hand, if the woman thought the painting would lead her to answers about her parentage...

      “This is a photo of the words on the back of the painting. I enlarged it to make it more readable.”

      He read the short line of printing, struggling to make sense of it. “It sounds as if your mother did the painting as a tribute to a friend, but that doesn’t mean there’s a connection to you.”

      “It’s a memorial, so it’s logical to assume that the date on it was the date when this person died.”

      He nodded. “M. I’m with you, but...”

      “The date is two months after I was born.” She seemed to think that made everything clear. It didn’t.

      “Even so,” he began.

      “You think I’m imagining a connection that isn’t there.” Her face flamed with sudden anger.

      “I think you’re building a great deal on a slim chance. If I thought I could help you...”

      “Never mind.” She held out her hand for the photos. “Robert suggested I see you rather than a private investigator, both because he trusts you and because as a local attorney, you’re more likely to know what to search for. Maybe I’ll do better looking into the situation on my own.”

      Annoyed, he held the photos out of reach. “Hold on. I didn’t say I wouldn’t try. I just don’t know that I can come up with the answers you want.”

      “I want the truth.” Her tone was uncompromising.

      “Good. So do I. Now we have common ground, at least. May I hold on to these?”

      “Why?” She shot the word at him.

      “Well, mainly because I was four years old in 1989. I’d like to show them to someone who might remember something from that year.”

      She frowned. “I assume you have a copier in the office. Suppose you keep a copy.”

      Trey nodded. “We can do that on the way out. Now, where are you staying?”

      “At a motel down near Williamsport. It was the closest place I could find that would allow dogs.”

      “Let me have your cell number, then. I’ll call you if I find anything.” He hesitated, but it ought to be said. “In the meantime, it probably would be best if you didn’t start investigating this in Echo Falls yourself.”

      “Why not?” She was instantly defensive.

      “It’s a small town. And like most small towns, people don’t like outsiders poking around asking questions.” He could see by her expression that she didn’t understand. Obviously she’d never lived in a place like Echo Falls.

      “I’ll think about what you said.” She stood, and the dog lumbered to his feet, his nap interrupted. She handed Trey a card with the number he’d requested. It also identified her as Dr. Amanda Curtiss, DVM. A vet. He’d never have guessed that, but it seemed to explain that air of competence.

      Trey rounded the desk to join her. “Meaning you’ll follow your own instincts?”

      That seemed to break through her guard for an instant, and she smiled. “I suppose so.”

      “Tell me something.” He opened the door for her. “Did Robert McKinley approve of this investigation of yours?”

      “Probably not. But I told him, and I’ll tell you.” There was a fierce quality to her determination that he hadn’t seen before. “I intend to know the truth. I’m going to find out who I am, no matter who stands in the way.”

      He tried for a noncommittal expression. “That’s your right.” He wished he could say it was wise, but he couldn’t. For no reason that he could put his finger on, he had the feeling that Amanda Curtiss’s quest could land her in a big bunch of trouble. And him with her, if he let himself be sucked in.

       CHAPTER TWO

      WHEN AMANDA REACHED the sidewalk a few minutes later she paused, considering. That appointment hadn’t gone as badly as it might have, she supposed. She’d almost become accustomed to the series of disturbing events that had turned her life upside down, right up until she’d tried to verbalize them to a stranger. If the story sounded off-the-wall to her, she could imagine how it had sounded to that attorney.

      To do him justice, Alter hadn’t escorted her politely to the door and suggested she consult a mental health professional. Maybe he was a bit too staid and reserved, despite his age, for such an act.

      Barney pressed against her leg as if to ask why they were standing irresolute on the sidewalk. “Walk, Barney?”

      A wave of the tail answered her. Barney was too well trained to give his usual ecstatic bark in public, but there was no denying a walk would suit him fine. And it made a good excuse to have a look at the place that had seemed to hold such significance to her mother.

      To Juliet Curtiss, she corrected, starting down the sidewalk away from the law office. Was she ever going to get used to the idea that she wasn’t Juliet’s biological daughter?

      Juliet had seen her as a daughter. Hadn’t she said so plainly in her will? That was the important thing, Robert had told her over and over in the past two weeks. He’d been distressed by what he saw as Amanda’s obsession with finding out who she was and where