Free The Sound of a Scream by John Manning Page B

her innuendo.
    “Sex,” Ashlee told her. “She’s never had sex.” Suddenly a smile stretched across the young woman’s face. “Oh, I forgot. You grew up in a convent.”
    Daphne felt her cheeks flush. “I’m not always so naïve,” she promised. “But ... I guess there are some things I have to learn.”
    “Don’t worry about it, sweetie.” Ashlee smiled kindly. “So ... if I can be so bold—should I assume you’ve never had any either?”
    Daphne’s cheeks burned hotter. She just shook her head.
    Ashlee smiled. “That’ll change. I saw the way Donovan was eyeing you last night.”
    “But he’s engaged!”
    “That’s never stopped him before,” Ashlee quipped.
    Daphne drew her shoulders up. “Well, it would certainly stop me.”
    “Good for you, sweetie. But I didn’t necessarily mean Donovan. I just meant I saw how he looked at you. You’re an extremely pretty girl. I’m sure lots of guys will look at you the same way now that you’re out of the convent.”
    Daphne just laughed awkwardly and looked away.
    “In fact, I’ll bet even on your way over here, you attracted some attention from the male citizens of Point Woebegone.”
    Daphne looked at her. Could she possibly know that Gregory Winston had given her a ride? Could the sheriff have mentioned it? Given that the sheriff was coming by later today, Daphne figured it might be wise to admit it. And surely if there was a sympathetic ear in this house, it was Ashlee’s.
    “Actually,” she said, “not that there was anything to it”—was there?—“I did get a ride from the train station to the inn from a gentleman who said he knew Mr. Witherspoon.”
    Ashlee’s eyes twinkled. “You were holding back on us last night, Daphne. You didn’t tell us this part.”
    “It’s just that—well, I didn’t want to add any further distress after breaking the news about Maggie.”
    “How could you cause distress by telling us a man had given you ride?”
    “Well, the man indicated ...” Daphne’s voice wavered. What exactly had Gregory said? “He implied that Mr. Witherspoon wouldn’t approve of seeing me arrive at Witherswood in his car.”
    Ashlee leaned in close. “What was this man’s name?”
    “Gregory Winston.”
    Ashlee laughed out loud, harder and harsher than her usual laugh, a sound like breaking glass.
    “Gregory Winston! Indeed, Pete would have been fit to be tied if he saw you drive up to Witherswood in Gregory’s car.” She lowered her voice. “Though I sure wouldn’t have. I think Gregory is dreamy. So gorgeous. Don’t you think?”
    Daphne blushed again. “Why doesn’t Mr. Witherspoon like him? I assume it has something to do with business. Gregory said that Mr. Witherspoon owned half the town, and he owned the other half.”
    “That’s part of it,” Ashlee acknowledged. “Gregory keeps trying to buy properties from under Pete, keeps trying to woo away our employees at the cannery and the fishing fleet and the various restaurants we own on the coast.” She sat back as a plump woman came by and cleared away their plates and freshened their coffees. “But that’s not all of it. Their history goes back a lot further than that.”
    They were silent until the server had finished brushing the crumbs from the table and then trundled away toward the kitchen, leaving them alone on the terrace.
    “Of course, this all predates me by many, many years,” Ashlee continued. “But as I understand it, Gregory’s father once lived and worked at Witherswood. He was the groundskeeper. In fact, I believe that Gregory was born on the estate and spent much of his youth here.” She paused, her eyes moving off to look beyond the cliffs. “Then ... well, the tragedies happened.”
    Daphne thought she knew what Ashlee meant by the “tragedies,” but she held her tongue.
    Ashlee looked over at her. “I told Pete he was wrong not to tell you the history of this house before you made the decision to come here or not.” She