“There wasn’t one.” Trey’s voice flattened, as if in disapproval. “The family was opposed to having it carried out, and according to the coroner, the cause of death was fairly obvious. Head injuries, as you might expect. Reading between the lines, I’d say the decision makers saw no point in going farther. An unfortunate accident or maybe a despairing suicide. They picked accident, issued a few warnings about the dangers of the falls trail and dropped it.”
She pounced on his words. “So you think they didn’t pursue it as they should have.”
“I didn’t say that.” Frustration edged his voice. “Don’t put your own spin on my words. If I’d been in that position, I might have done the same. It can’t be easy to make that sort of decision when you know the people involved.”
Obviously arguing the point wouldn’t get her anywhere. “Sorry. What did the police chief say when you talked to him?”
“He wanted to know why I was asking, of course.” He rested his spoon on the side of his empty bowl. Somehow he’d managed to scoop up a whole bowlful of potpie while they were talking. “As I predicted, he wasn’t exactly eager to talk about a local scandal just to satisfy your curiosity, so I had to tell him why you’re interested. Carmichaels won’t gossip, at least.”
She must have made an impatient movement, because he frowned before he went on.
“He didn’t have much to say beyond what I’d already found in the records. He did confirm that the family agreed they hadn’t heard anything from Melanie and didn’t know she’d come back.”
“That was strange, wasn’t it? I mean, why would she return if not to be reconciled to her family? If she’d had the baby, she might have realized how difficult it was and wanted to have their help.”
“I agree, that seems logical, but if they all said that she didn’t approach them, I don’t see how you can prove otherwise after all this time. It’s a dead end.” He made a gesture of finality.
She was beginning to think it delighted him to present obstacles. “Maybe I can’t prove anything, but I have the right to ask questions. This is my life we’re talking about and you—how do I know you’re not trying to protect the Winthrops?”
Trey’s face hardened. “You don’t. You’ll have to take me on trust. Or not. Look, what are you really after? To find your birth mother? If it was Melanie, you may never be able to prove it.”
“It’s not that simple.” She couldn’t keep the annoyance she felt from showing in her voice. “This isn’t just a sentimental journey. I have to find proof, if it exists, that Juliet actually adopted me. Otherwise...”
“Otherwise I suppose you might stand to lose your inheritance from her.” He was quick, she’d say that for him. “You must want that inheritance pretty badly to go to these lengths.”
“Is that your considered objective opinion?” She put some frost in her voice, which wasn’t all that easy when anger was like a fire on her nerves. She stood, grabbing her bag.
“Where are you going?” He got up, glancing around and lowering his voice. “Don’t make a scene.”
That infuriated her for a reason he couldn’t understand and probably wouldn’t appreciate if he did. “I’m going to see the police chief for myself.” Her bag strap hooked over the chair, and she yanked it free.
Trey tossed some money on the table and grabbed her arm. “Not without me, you’re not. He already knows you’re my client, so don’t even think about it.”
She glared at him for a moment and then jerked a short nod. Like it or not, she seemed to be stuck with him.
* * *
THEY’D GOTTEN HALFWAY to the police station before Trey realized how ridiculous they must look, striding along without speaking or even glancing at each other.
“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that about your inheritance. Didn’t her will make her wishes clear?”
Her expression tightened, if anything. “It says that she left everything to me, by name, but then it says, ‘my daughter.’ Robert’s afraid...”
“Right, I see. That could conceivably leave it up to the interpretation of the judge if someone brought suit. Would anyone?”
“Robert says that Juliet’s brother, George, has been asking questions. He must have some doubts.”
Tricky. What might seem clear to a layperson could become anything but if it went to court. “Okay. Naturally you want to prove that you were Juliet Curtiss’s daughter.”
“I suppose...” She still didn’t look at him, but she shook her head. “If you’re asking me why this search is so important to me, I don’t know how to answer. At first, my only goal was to find the proof of my adoption. Now that I have an idea of who my mother might have been...” She pressed her lips together as if in need of control. “I do know you can’t imagine what it’s like to have everything you’ve believed about yourself suddenly in question. Not until you experience it.”
For an instant she looked lost, and Trey winced. He didn’t want to be the one who caused that feeling.
“Sorry,” he said again. He tried to think objectively about her situation. “Was there ever a time that you suspected the truth? Or questioned your mother?”
“Not really.” Amanda seemed to look into the past. “Juliet always made me feel so secure. Even when someone kidded me about not inheriting her looks or her artistic talent, she laughed it off. I looked like my father, she said, and everyone had unique talents.” She slanted a sideways look at him. “But I suppose you always wanted to be an attorney, like your dad.”
“And my grandfather,” he added, relieved that the ice had melted between them. “I don’t know that I ever considered any other option. I was born to go into the family firm.”
And it had nearly faltered on his watch. He could never forget how close they’d come. And how close they still were, for that matter.
“No siblings to take your place?” she asked.
“One sister. Shelley flirted with the idea of law school, but then a guy came along, and she decided she didn’t want to spend that many more years in school.”
“Married?”
“Yes, she’s married and lives about an hour’s drive from here. Three kids, so at least my mother’s stopped expecting me to produce grandchildren for her.”
“That must be a relief.” Her lips curved, showing her dimple.
“It is,” he said with emphasis. There was also the matter of his father’s health to keep Mom occupied, so she’d stopped worrying about Trey’s single status. Not that that would stop her from putting in her two cents’ worth if he so much as went to a movie with a female.
“Here we are.” He nodded at the mellowed brick building that had been the police station for a hundred years. Its classic lines were a bit distorted by the one-story, three-bay garage with its metal roof, providing space for emergency vehicles.
