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.
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 she’d come from.
And as her attorney, he’d been firmly opposed to her leaving Boston at all. “Stay in residence at the brownstone” had been his repeated refrain. That way, if Juliet’s brother did get a hint of any irregularity, he’d have much more difficulty in getting her out.
Amanda couldn’t do it. She couldn’t live her life cautious and afraid. It would have been a betrayal of the way Juliet had raised her. Juliet Curtiss had taken her own course all her life, and she’d taught Amanda to do the same.
Robert had been sympathetic, but he hadn’t understood. As for the attorney he’d sent her to...well, Alter didn’t understand, either. He clearly wanted her to do nothing except, possibly, go away.
Had he been right about the people here and their attitude toward outsiders? So far as she could tell, Echo Falls inhabitants appeared friendly. Instead of the usual eyes averted posture of a busy city, most people she passed here gave her a pleasant smile or a nod.
The main street of Echo Falls was lined on either side by small shops and offices. A gift shop, a bank, a bookstore...she checked them off as she passed. Ahead of her was the town square, with a small plot of grass, a fountain and a memorial to someone or other. The redbrick buildings around it looked solidly turn of the century. Another bank anchored one corner, while the town hall and the public library accounted for two more. The last was occupied by the local newspaper.
A library and a newspaper office were two of the first places she’d thought to check for information. It was tempting to go in now, but Barney probably wouldn’t be welcome, and her stomach informed her it was long past lunchtime.
With a longing glance at the library, Amanda turned back the way she’d come. Noticing a bakery-café across the street, she put Barney in the car, cracked the window a couple of inches and headed in search of lunch.
Several people were coming out of Beiler’s Café as she reached it. Judging by the quiet interior, she must have missed the lunch rush, if there was such a thing in a town this size.
The pleasant-faced woman behind the counter waved her to a table. “Wilkom. Will you have coffee?”
“Yes, please.” The fact that the woman was Amish surprised her. She’d grown accustomed to seeing the Amish when she’d done her veterinary training in Pennsylvania, but somehow she hadn’t expected to find an Amish settlement this far north in the state.
A steaming mug appeared first, followed quickly by a menu. “Lunch, or maybe a cruller to go with the coffee?” The woman’s smile widened. “I’m Esther... Esther Beiler. And you are a visitor, ain’t so?”
Amanda relaxed, whatever tension she’d held on to evaporating at the woman’s friendliness. “That’s right. I haven’t been to this part of Pennsylvania before. You have such a pretty downtown area.” True enough, and it occurred to her that she should seize the opportunity to chat when offered.
“Ach, it’s not so bad,” Esther acknowledged. “I think the valley is at its best in the fall, when the ridges have so much color. It’s already close to the peak, I think. We get a fair number of tourists coming through on weekends.”
Nodding, Amanda scanned the menu. “What do you recommend?”
“Chicken potpie is most popular. I have homemade vegetable beef soup, too, and it’s not so bad.”
Deciding that “not so bad” was high praise, Amanda
