He glanced over at her. “News didn’t travel as fast back then until everyone had computers at home or cell phones. In fact, maybe they never knew about it, like you.”
Rachel hadn’t thought of that. “That could be. They felt safe enough to settle in Tallahassee when I was fifteen, though. Maybe they knew something by then.”
“Or they just thought it had been long enough that they were safe,” Avery said. “Any thoughts on why they took you?”
“No. My mom and aunt argued often over Julie wanting me to live with them. I never thought too much about it. I was a kid. Julie and Gordon didn’t have children, and my mom acted like she didn’t want me. And to be honest, because my mother and brother were so mean, I wanted to live with Aunt Julie.”
“How was Keith mean to you?” Avery asked, glancing her way.
“He was always doing stuff to scare me, like the night before I left. He put me in a chokehold and squeezed tight. If my dad hadn’t been there, I really think Keith would have choked me until I passed out. I was always scared of him and Jeremy.” Rachel shivered involuntarily as she remembered that night.
“Interesting,” Avery said, his eyes on the road.
Rachel turned to look at him. “Why didn’t you like Jeremy?”
“Like I said, same reason as you. I rode the same school bus as Jeremy. He was a jerk. Every little kid on the bus prayed they wouldn’t be his target that day. And even if he didn’t bother you, there was just something about him that gave me the creeps. Still does.”
“It’s those eyes,” Rachel said. “They’re so dark blue, they look almost black. They look evil.”
Avery laughed. “You know, you’re right. They do look evil.”
She laughed, her mood lifting.
Avery parked the car behind the restaurant, and they walked inside. The hostess took them to a corner table covered in a white tablecloth with black cloth napkins. He ordered a beer, and she ordered a glass of Chardonnay.
“Nice place,” she said, glancing over at Avery. “I guess that little newspaper is doing okay after all.”
He smiled. “It barely breaks even, but I like splurging once in a while.”
They both ordered—steak for him and shrimp for her—and then silence filled their space. Rachel sipped her wine and finally spoke up. “You said you came back to buy the paper and look into your mother’s murder. Where did you come back from?”
“Ah. My turn to be questioned.” He grinned. “I went to college in Los Angeles and worked at several different newspapers around L.A for a few years. My father had passed away, and I had no ties to Casita anymore. Well, except for my aunt and a few cousins. I thought I was over the place, but I guess I wasn’t. I covered a murder case in Orange County one summer, and it brought it all back. When I saw the little newspaper in Casita was up for sale, I bought it. I figured the best way to find out answers was to be involved in the day-to-day lives of the townspeople.”
“How long ago was that?”
“A few months ago. So far, all I’ve done is create a big file. But I’ll work on it until I find answers,” Avery said, sounding determined.
Rachel toyed with the stem of her wine glass. “And you’ve never married? No children?”
He shook his head. “Never found the right person. What about you?”
“I did find the right person, but he died a few years ago. Carter’s job required him to be on the road a lot. His car was hit by a semi-truck, and he was killed instantly.”
“I’m sorry,” Avery said, grimacing. “Did you have children?”
She smiled. “Yes. I have a daughter in her second year of college. It’s just her and me now.”
“That’s nice. I wish I’d had kids. It’s an experience I would have enjoyed.”
Their food came, and they began eating. Their conversation turned to lighter topics, like traveling, places they’d like to visit, and things they enjoyed other than work.
“Basically, my work was my hobby,” Rachel said. “I worked for a small promotional firm but hated the long hours. I love reading. When I saw indie publishing flourishing, and people were always looking for cover designers, I jumped right in. There was a learning curve, of course, but I learned the ropes and soon had a handful of clients. Now, I do some marketing for businesses, but I make most of my money working for publishers and authors.”
“Wow. That’s amazing,” Avery said, his eyes lighting up. “You found a niche and went for it. Good for you.”
“Says the guy with his own newspaper,” she said, grinning.
“I bought my business. You created yours. I think that’s great.”
“Thank you.”
“What about your aunt and uncle? Are they still in your life?” Avery asked.
Rachel’s smile faded. “Uncle Gordon passed away a few years ago. He had a massive heart attack. My aunt tried being strong, but she faded fast. She has Alzheimer’s. She lived with us for two years, but I couldn’t care for her on my own any longer. She’s in a memory care center just outside of Tallahassee.”
“I’m sorry,” Avery said. “I guess asking her outright about what happened all those years ago is out of the question.”
Rachel nodded. “She gets upset easily, especially when I bring up the past. She still wants it to be a secret. I’m not sure it would be good for her to talk about it.”
“That puts you in a tough spot,” Avery said sympathetically.
“Yes, it does. But I’m committed to finding the truth.”
He grinned. “Me, too. Maybe we can find the truth together.”
Avery paid the bill, and they left in his SUV.
“Thank you for dinner,” Rachel said. “It was a nice reprieve. And for sharing this file with me. I can’t wait to dig into it.”
“You’re welcome.”
He pulled up in the space beside her rental car in front of the motel.
“It’s weird,” Rachel said. “I’ve only been in town for two days and I feel like I’ve covered a lot of ground already. If only my DNA test would come back quickly, then I could look through the evidence box. I think the key to understanding why my father identified me as the dead girl is in that box.”
Avery’s brows rose. “There must be a way to go around Jeremy so you can look at the evidence. I’ll do some digging and ask my Aunt Gladys to dig around too, to see if we can get that done.”
They stepped out of the car, and Avery walked Rachel to her door. She studied him a moment. “Why are you helping me? You don’t even know for sure I’m who I say I am.”
“Like I said when I met you—I’d know you anywhere. Not to sound creepy or anything, but even as a kid in the second grade, I liked you. I mean, you were so pretty with your long, dark hair and thick eyelashes, it was hard not to notice you. And you were nice. Kind. I remember how you’d stand up for any kid that was being picked on. You made a huge impression on me.”
Rachel broke out in a big smile. “Wow. I didn’t realize I was that interesting. I appreciate you helping me.”
He nodded. “I’m happy to do it.”
They stood by the door a moment in awkward silence. Rachel liked Avery. He was kind and helpful, and he seemed sincere. It had been a long time since she’d spent time alone with a nice, handsome man.
“Well,” Avery said. He turned and glanced around. “I don’t see any strange cars hanging around here tonight. It looks like your stalker is off for the night.”
“Or maybe I imagined it. Thanks for tonight. It was fun.”
“Yeah, it was. Happy reading.” He pointed to the folder.
She laughed. “Actually, I will enjoy going through this. Maybe I’ll run into you tomorrow or something.”
He nodded, tipped his head, and headed to his car.
Rachel hurried into her room, locking the door behind her. Despite her reason for being here, she couldn’t help but smile to herself over her evening with Avery.
Chapter Eight
Rachel stayed up half
the night looking through the folder of papers Avery had given her. Although the cases of the murdered women were interesting, there wasn’t any evidence to point directly to Keith. The case files of his trial, though, were intriguing. But still, other than Jeremy’s testimony placing Keith at the scene of the crime and the scratches on his face, there was nothing concrete to convict Keith of the little girl’s murder. So why had the jury been so quick to send him to prison at the age of sixteen?
Rachel wondered why her brother’s lawyer hadn’t explained about the scratches on Keith’s face. Both Keith and her father knew that Rachel had scratched him that day. Maybe it would have been too damning to admit his sister had done it. If her father had testified about stopping Keith from choking her the night before the murder, it would have proved Keith was capable of violence.
And then there was the skin found under the little girl’s fingernails. DNA wouldn’t have been tested then, but wouldn’t they have tested for a blood match with Keith? There was nothing in the trial testimony about it having been done.
Rachel sighed. She wanted to look at the box of evidence. If they’d kept samples of the skin found under the girl’s nails, the DNA could be tested.
As she lay in bed later that night, Rachel’s mind was spinning. She couldn’t get the thoughts of the murdered women out of her head and the one bloody fingerprint found at Avery’s mom’s murder scene. Yet no one ever tried to match it. She wondered if they’d kept the print all these years for evidence. Maybe it would solve the mystery of who had killed those women. At the very least, identifying it could eliminate Keith from being suspected of those murders.
“If he is innocent,” she whispered to herself. That wasn’t something she could say she was one hundred percent certain of.
***
The next morning, Rachel went immediately to the police station and walked into Jeremy’s office. “We have to talk,” she said.
He scowled at her from behind his desk and motioned for her to close the door. “Okay. Talk.”
“I’m not going to sit around waiting for the DNA test to come back. I need to see the evidence. It’s an old case, so there’s no reason why I can’t look through it.”
He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “There are a lot of good reasons why you can’t look through it. We don’t let people just dig through the evidence of a murder case. It may be needed later for appeals or even parole hearings. Unless I can prove you are family, I’m not going to open it up for you.”
“Yeah, but you could pull it out, couldn’t you? You could take pictures of the evidence to show me. I need to understand why my father identified the body as mine. I also think there’s probably evidence in there that could clear Keith.”
Jeremy sat up straighter, looking interested. “What evidence?”
“I read the trial transcripts,” she told him. “There was skin found under the little girl’s fingernails. Back then, it may not have helped, but now they can test it for DNA. It could either clear Keith or prove he did it.”
Jeremy sneered at her. “I don’t need to prove he did it. He was already convicted.”
Rachel leaned toward him, her hands on her hips. “Don’t you want to learn the truth? It was all circumstantial evidence. One DNA test will prove or disprove it.”
Jeremy stood and glared at her. “I know the truth. I saw him go into the woods after that girl,” he yelled. “I don’t need any more proof than that.”
Fierce anger rose inside Rachel. “I don’t have to go through you. I can petition the courts to reopen the case. And if I do, I’m sure the press would love to hear about it. Is that what you want?”
He waved his hand in the air, unconcerned. “No court is going to reopen the case unless you can prove you really are Rachel Parnell. And they definitely wouldn’t open a case without a lawyer.”
“Then I’ll get one.”
He laughed. “I highly doubt you can afford one.”
All the fight left Rachel, and she dropped into the chair. “I thought you said you wanted to help me find the truth. Why are you fighting me on this?”
Jeremy sat down too. “I do want to help. But I have to do it legally, or no judge will look at it.”
Rachel sighed. “I didn’t want to do this, not until I could prove who I was, but I guess I’ll have to go to the source. I’ll ask my father why he thought the dead girl was me.” She stood to leave.
“Good luck with that.”
Rachel frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your father isn’t at the house. He left after the trial and never came back. No one knows where he is.”
Rachel took in a sharp breath. “What?”
“He’s been gone for years, Rachel. And if you go knocking on your mother’s door and announce you’re alive while her son is sitting in prison up at Solano, I’d hate to see what she’ll do. If you thought your mother was mean thirty-five years ago, believe me, she’s a hell of a lot meaner now that she’s alone.”
Rachel was stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
He shrugged. “Because a part of me still wants to believe you’re not Rachel Parnell. Because if it comes out that you are, there’s going to be a whole new trial for Keith, and that’s the last thing I want. I’m the one whose testimony put him away. He’s had decades to stew about that. I’m in no hurry to see him get out.”
She shook her head. “We have to find the truth. It’s your duty as a police officer.”
“Yeah, well, I’d like to stay alive while doing my job, you know?”
Feeling defeated, Rachel turned to leave. But Jeremy wasn’t through talking.
“I saw you and Avery Turley chumming around yesterday. I’m sure he’s gotten you riled up about all this more than you already were. Take my advice—don’t let him drag you into his scheme for revenge. He’s been trying for months to start something. It’s best if some things stay buried.”
Rachel didn’t answer him. She left his office and headed out to the sidewalk. She didn’t know what more she could do. Jeremy wasn’t going to help her. He probably hadn’t even sent in the DNA test. It all seemed so useless.
“You look like you’ve lost your best friend,” a familiar voice said from behind her.
Rachel spun around and looked up into Avery’s kind face. “Hi.”
He grinned. “Hi.”
“I just had a useless encounter with Jeremy. He’s not going to do anything. I don’t know what to do now. Somewhere out there is a mother or father who never knew what happened to their little girl. But Jeremy doesn’t care. All he cares about is that Keith stays in prison—forever.”
Avery placed his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes. “What can I do to help?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure anyone can help.”
Avery’s eyes lit up, and he slipped his arm through hers and led her next door to City Hall. “Well, I know someone who knows everything about this town, and I’ll bet she’ll figure out what we can do.”
“Gladys?” Rachel asked, looking up at him.
“Yep. Gladys.”
***
“I’m not sure what I can do to help,” Glady said after Avery had explained about the roadblock they’d hit. “I can’t make Jeremy show you the evidence.”
They were sitting in the cramped coffee room at the courthouse. Gladys had told the other office worker that she was taking a break and made coffee for the three of them.
“You must have some connections in high places after all these years,” Avery said.
Gladys wrinkled her nose at her nephew. “How old do you think I am?”
Avery was about to answer, but Rachel shushed him. “What he meant to say is that you probably know people throughout the court system because of all your experience.”
Gladys smiled. “That’s better. Actually, I have a few connections, but none that will get you in the evidence room. However,” she stopped a moment and eyed Rachel, “I have a cousin
who works at the Central Valley testing facility. That’s where Jeremy would have sent your DNA. I can call her and see if they can rush it.”
Rachel’s face lit up. “Oh, Gladys, that would be amazing. Thank you so much. If I can prove who I am, maybe Jeremy will let me look at the evidence after all.”
“I’ll see what I can do. But don’t expect much. Those labs are always so swamped, and everyone wants things rushed,” Gladys said.
Rachel nodded. She’d figured it was that way, but maybe they could get hers done a little quicker.
Gladys looked thoughtful. “Rachel. I’ve been doing some more digging into your birth certificate. Your mother and aunt’s maiden name was Arden, right?”
“Yes. Have you found anything new?”
“No, no. But I’m still digging. I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting.”
Rachel and Avery said goodbye to Gladys and headed out into the morning sunshine. The weather was working up to be another scorcher of a day.
“Were there any strange cars outside your room last night?” Avery asked, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.
“No, thank goodness. Hopefully, I was mistaken. But I was chased in the cemetery, and it doesn’t make any sense.”
Avery was about to speak when a portly, middle-aged man interrupted him. “Well, Avery. Who do we have here?”
Rachel watched as Avery’s smile turned into a sneer. “Hello, Archie,” he said without enthusiasm. “Shouldn’t you be in your office looking for ways to spend the town’s tax dollars?”
Archie laughed. “And shouldn’t you be working on putting out that rag of a newspaper you own?”
“My newspaper is fine,” Avery said. “And I’m busy right now.”
Archie turned to Rachel, giving her the once-over with his beady eyes. His dark hair, what was left of it, was slicked back, and his jowls shook when he spoke. Rachel cringed as she looked at him.
“I see that you’ve been busy,” Archie said. “And who might you be?”
Rachel stood up straight and looked him in the eye. She had nothing to fear from this overweight politician. “I’m Rachel Parnell. Perhaps you’ve heard the name before?”
The Truth About Rachel Page 7