Chapter Four
As the words left Rachel’s lips, the officer stopped dead in his tracks and dropped the files. The woman stared at Rachel, her brows high on her forehead.
“Who did you say you were?” the woman asked.
Rachel’s heart pounded in her chest, but she spoke as calmly as she could. “I’m Rachel Parnell. I read newspaper accounts online that claimed I’d been murdered by my brother thirty-five years ago. But as you can see, I’m very much alive.”
The officer stepped over the files he’d dropped and walked to the window, his expression dazed. “No. That’s not possible. Rachel Parnell was murdered.”
She turned to him, seeing the shocked look on his face. There was something familiar about his dark blue eyes. “No, I wasn’t murdered. I left town that day with my Aunt Julie and Uncle Gordon Scott. They adopted me, and I lived with them. I have my revised birth certificate.” She pulled the original from her folder and slid it under the glass. “See. It doesn’t state that I was a Parnell, but it shows that they became my legal parents. My Aunt Julie is my mother’s sister. Judith Parnell can attest to it.”
The officer glanced down at the birth certificate, then back up to Rachel. “All this tells me is your name is Rachel Scott. There’s no proof you were ever Rachel Parnell.”
“But I am Rachel Parnell,” she insisted. “I lived here until I was eight. My best friend was Amy Harmon, I attended the local grade school, and my brother was Keith Parnell.”
The officer slid Rachel’s birth certificate back toward her under the glass. “Rachel Parnell is dead. This isn’t funny. Leave before I arrest you for impersonating a dead person.”
The woman stood quietly, watching their exchange. Finally, she spoke up. “This birth certificate was issued here in Stanislaus County. Were you born here, too?”
“Yes,” Rachel said.
“Well, it wouldn’t take long to look up your adoption files if they’ll let me see them. Was it a closed adoption?”
Rachel wasn’t sure. “My parents approved of it, so it might have been an open adoption. I never knew any of the details.”
“Let me make a copy of this, and then I’ll give you the original back,” the woman said. “I can do some checking with the county courthouse in Modesto.”
“Gladys, don’t you dare spend a moment of your time on this. She’s a fraud. We all know that Rachel is dead. You were on the jury for Christ’s sake,” the officer said, glaring at the older woman.
Gladys’s eyes narrowed. “Jeremy Mitchell, you may be the Chief of Police around here, but you’re not my boss. I will look into this matter to the best of my ability, as I would for anyone who comes in here.” She waved her hand at him. “Now be off with you. Go back to your own office.”
Rachel stared through the glass as the officer spun angrily on his polished heel, bent to pick up the file folders, and stormed to the other side of the office.
Jeremy Mitchell. Rachel suddenly knew why his blue eyes looked so familiar. The officer was Keith’s teenage sidekick.
Gladys came back with the birth certificate and slid it under the glass. She smiled at Rachel. “I’ll check this out, dear. Don’t mind Jeremy. He’s a little sensitive about that old murder case. Keith Parnell was a friend of his.”
Rachel nodded. “You served on the jury that convicted Keith?”
The older woman nodded solemnly. “Yes, I did. It seemed like an open and shut case, although I’ve always had my doubts. Not about his being guilty, but about the murder in general. It never made sense why he’d kill his own sister. That’s why I’m willing to help you. If you’re who you say you are, I need to know.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said, relieved that she had at least one ally in town. “Will you call me if you find anything out about my adoption?”
Gladys handed her a Post-it Note. “Write your phone number, and I’ll call you.”
Rachel thanked her again and headed toward the door. In the entryway, she was shocked to see Jeremy waiting for her.
“We need to talk.” Jeremy reached for her arm as if to drag her along.
Rachel pulled away and stepped back. “Don’t touch me. I can walk on my own.”
He pursed his lips but nodded. “Come to my office next door. We can talk in private.”
Rachel followed him down the block and into the police station. It was such a small town that the police station wasn’t very large. Passing several partitioned desks where officers and other workers sat made Rachel feel safer about going into Jeremy’s office.
He closed the door and offered her a chair. “Do you want some coffee or water?” he asked brusquely.
“No, thank you.” Rachel sat down tentatively.
Jeremy walked around his desk and sat. Papers were in piles everywhere, and he had an empty mug sitting in a puddle of coffee stains. “Sorry about the mess. I never seem to get through all the paperwork.”
“Why did you want to see me?” Rachel asked, wanting to get to the point. She wondered when he’d get to the fact that he’d been Keith’s friend.
He let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry I was so rude over at City Hall. It’s just that the Parnell murder case is personal for me. I know for a fact that Keith followed his sister into those woods, and she was found dead after that. You couldn’t possibly be Rachel Parnell.”
“And how would you know for a fact that it was me? Unless you were with him.”
Jeremy stiffened. “I wasn’t with him. But I saw them.” He paused a moment. “I testified against Keith because I saw him follow Rachel into the woods.”
Rachel stared at him, astonished. She didn’t remember anything in the trial reports about him being a witness. But he was always with Keith in those days. “Listen. I know who you are. You and my brother used to hang out together in the park. You both terrorized anyone who got within a foot of you. Now you’re telling me that you actually testified against my brother—your best friend?”
He nodded. “I wasn’t proud of it, but it’s the truth. Because I saw him follow the girl into the woods. Three hours later, she was found dead, and he was at home. I had to tell the truth. Everyone in town had seen him terrorize Rachel at one time or another. It wasn’t so far-fetched to think he’d murder her in a state of rage.”
Rachel sat back in her chair, processing this new information. “Why didn’t the trial reports state you testified?”
Jeremy ran his hand through his dark blond hair. “Because I was a minor at the time. They didn’t release my name, but they took my testimony. Other people stated they saw him follow a dark-haired girl into the woods, too. I was the only one who knew it was Rachel.”
Rachel moved forward in her chair. “And what made you think it was her?”
“Because I knew her,” he said, growing irritated. “I knew how she looked and what type of clothes she wore.”
“Did you see her face?”
“What?”
“Did you see her face? Did you look her in the eye before she headed into the woods?”
His face grew red, and his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t have to see her face to know it was Rachel.”
She shook her head. “So, it could have been any girl with long dark hair. You just assumed it was me.”
“No. It was Rachel. Her own father identified her. So, if he knew it was her, then there was no questioning it.”
Rachel was stunned. Her father identified her? How could he make such a big mistake?
“Did they run a DNA test on the body? Fingerprints?” she asked. “Anything that could identify her for sure.”
“DNA was new then. Many police stations weren’t using it yet. Plus, there was no need to. Her father identified her. So, between what I saw and what her father said, there is no way you could be Rachel.”
Rachel stood. “Then we have nothing else to talk about until I can prove to you who I am. You might want to talk to my mother about her sister. She’ll tell you Julie and Gordon left town that same day I wa
s supposedly murdered.”
Jeremy stood also. “I can’t go anywhere near Mrs. Parnell, and neither should you. If she thinks someone is impersonating her deceased daughter, she’ll flip out.”
Rachel frowned. “Why can’t you talk to her?”
“She hates me, that’s why. My testimony put her son in prison.”
“Oh.” Rachel hadn’t thought of that. She turned and headed to the door.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone who you claim to be. At least, not until we’ve dug up some proof one way or the other. The last thing this town needs is the press swooping down on it asking about you so you can get your fifteen minutes of fame.”
Rachel spun around and glared at him. “I didn’t come here for attention. I came to clear up the fact that I’m not dead. So, if I’m not the body in that coffin, who is? It seems to me you’d want to know the truth. Isn’t that your job?”
Jeremy deflated. “Yes. It’s my job to get to the truth. But please give me a day or two to figure this out. After that, you can tell anyone you want."
Rachel nodded curtly. She was tired of sparing with Jeremy. As her hand reached for the doorknob, he spoke again.
“Where are you staying?”
“At a motel,” she said, not wanting to tell him exactly where. With that, she headed out the door.
***
It was four in the afternoon by the time Rachel checked into her motel room. The room wasn’t the nicest place she’d ever stayed in, but it was clean. Well, relatively clean. Rachel would have preferred one of the hotels on the outskirts of town with better security, but she couldn’t afford it. Her door being outside on the ground floor made her nervous, especially after her conversation with Jeremy. She didn’t trust him. Something about him was off. Or maybe it was because she’d never trusted him when she was a child. Feelings of distrust run deep and are difficult to brush away, no matter how many years have gone by.
Once Rachel was in her room, her phone rang. She glanced at it and saw it was from City Hall. Quickly, she answered. “Hello.”
“Hello. Ms. Parnell? This is Gladys at City Hall.”
“Yes, Gladys. Did you find something already?”
“Yes, dear. I did. In this electronic age, the information is a lot easier to send between buildings.”
Rachel smiled. She liked Gladys. “What did you find?”
“Well, Rachel Parnell’s original birth certificate was easy to locate. Which is odd if your adoption birth certificate is authentic. Normally, the original is sealed.”
“So, what are you saying?” Rachel asked, confused.
“The truth is, there were never any adoption papers registered in our county changing your name to Rachel Scott. If you are Rachel Parnell, and you were adopted by your aunt and uncle, there’s no record of it. As far as the state of California is concerned, Rachel Parnell continued to be the daughter of Frank and Judith Parnell until her death in 1985.” Gladys paused. “I’m sorry, dear. But it appears that the birth certificate showing your aunt and uncle as your adopted parents is a fake.”
Rachel dropped onto the bed, completely stunned. How could that be? How could she have possibly lived her entire childhood as Rachel Scott if there was no record of it? It made no sense.
“Ms. Parnell? Are you still there?” Gladys asked.
“Yes, I’m here,” Rachel said.
“I made copies of everything I found. They’re here if you’d like to have them.”
“Okay. Thank you, Gladys. I appreciate your help.”
“I’m sorry it wasn’t what you’d hoped for. But dear? If you are who you say you are, I’m sure there’s a way to prove it. Don’t give up yet.”
Gladys was right. There had to be a way to prove who she was. “Thanks, Gladys. I won’t give up.”
She hung up and stared at the hideous flower wallpaper in the motel room. Had Julie and Gordon lied? Had they bought a fake birth certificate so they could take Rachel away from her family? It was so hard for her to believe they’d do such a thing. But then, she remembered the many arguments between her mother and aunt about them having custody of her. Would Julie have gone as far as having fake documents made up? It was all so crazy.
She thought back to the day her aunt and uncle had picked her up at the park. They hadn’t even let her go home to pack a few things. It had seemed odd then, but now she wondered. Had they kidnapped her? Could they have done that?
No matter how she’d ended up living with Julie and Gordon, Rachel knew who she was. She couldn’t leave town until she found out who was in the grave with her name on it.
Chapter Five
After her long day, Rachel was hungry, so she decided to drive around town and look for a place to eat. But first, she wanted to drive by her old house. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. She hopped into her rented car and went the short distance to the older part of town. Driving past the park, she headed up one street and then down another. Many of the homes had been remodeled and looked decent. Some still appeared as forlorn as they had when she was a child. A couple had been torn down altogether, and newer homes had been built. Since many of these homes were built in the early to mid-1900s, it didn’t surprise Rachel that some had been replaced.
As Rachel drew near her old house, she moved slowly. There was Mr. Anderson’s house two doors down, then Old Lady Porter’s house. Keith had named their neighbor that because she was always yelling at him to get off her lawn. Finally, the bungalow-style house where she’d lived appeared. Rachel pulled across the street and parked a moment so she could study it. It was a small, Spanish-style home with a clay tile roof. The paint was still peeling, and the shutters were still hanging crookedly. No truck or car was in the driveway. But as she stared at it, she noticed a light flickering through the living room window and realized the television was on. Her mother was probably sitting in there watching her shows, just as she’d always done. After thirty-five years, nothing had changed.
Memories tugged at Rachel’s heart as she thought about her father. She wondered if he were in there too, watching TV with her mom. He’d be seventy-seven now, his hair completely gray—if he still had hair—and his back probably bent over from years of driving truck. She wished she could knock on the door and see him, but she grudgingly had to agree with Jeremy. She couldn’t just start pounding on doors, telling people she was Rachel Parnell, come back from the dead, without any proof. It would cause chaos in such a small town.
Finally, Rachel pulled away. Once she could prove who she was, she’d let her family know she was alive.
Heading downtown, Rachel found a small pub that served food and went inside. It was a Monday night, so the place wasn’t busy. She found a table in the back corner and ordered a burger with chips and a Coke. Waiting for her food, she gazed around the pub. It was a nice place. They’d taken one of the old downtown buildings and remodeled it to look like an Irish Pub. There were open beams above, dark wood paneling half-way up the walls, and rich green wallpaper above that. Booths lined the back wall, and tables filled the center. A long, curved bar stood at the far wall with a mirror backdrop that held shelves displaying all types of liquor bottles and glasses. Rachel thought it was probably a busy place on the weekends, filled with locals enjoying food or a drink with live music turned up high. Now, though, there were only a couple of older men at the bar and another table with a young couple eating dinner.
The waiter brought her meal, and she started eating. The door opened and closed, and Rachel glanced up. Striding toward her was Jeremy Mitchell.
“Hey,” he said, sounding friendlier than he had this afternoon. “I came in for a burger. Didn’t know you’d be in here.”
Rachel had trouble believing that. He’d walked purposely toward her like he’d known she was there. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, though. He wore jeans, a button-down plaid shirt, and cowboy boots. Jeremy should have looked comfortable and casual, but he looked all business to her.
“Are
you following me?” she asked, half-joking.
He raised his hands up in defense. “No, no. I swear. I eat here a lot. It’s just a coincidence.”
Rachel wasn’t completely convinced, but she supposed it might be a coincidence. Jeremy continued to stand there as if waiting for something. “I suppose Gladys told you what she found.”
He nodded, then turned to see if anyone was listening to them. “Mind if I join you? I’d like to talk.”
She waved her hand to the opposite side of the booth. “Sure. Why not?”
The waiter came and took his order. He had the same as her, except he asked for a beer on tap. Then he smiled at Rachel. “I’m not on duty, and I really need a beer.”
His smile didn’t reassure her. His eyes were still too close together, although his face was fuller than when he was a teenager. Still, she was as wary of him now as she had been at eight years old. Rachel pushed down her uneasiness and took another bite of her burger. “What do you want to talk about?”
Jeremy leaned on the table toward her. “Gladys did tell me what she’d discovered. And now I’m finding the whole thing strange. I thought you were conning us, but after I had time to think about it, I couldn’t come up with a good reason why. Your parents have no money. Keith definitely has nothing. So why do a con job? Unless you’re some nut case who wants attention.”
“I’m not a nut,” she said.
Jeremy studied her a moment. “I believe that. Until today, you lived in Florida, working as a graphic designer and living a quiet life. You had no reason to fly out here and pretend to be Rachel Parnell.”
Her eyes flew up to his. “How do you know about my life in Florida?”
“Don’t be so surprised. I’m in law enforcement. I did some digging to make sure you weren’t a crazy person. I also know that your husband is deceased, your Aunt Julie is in a memory care facility in Tallahassee, and your daughter goes to college. So, you weren’t lying about your Aunt Julie and Uncle Gordon Scott. I remember her from back when we were young. So, some of what you say checks out.”
The Truth About Rachel Page 4