“I know who you claim to be,” Archie said, narrowing his eyes. “But who are you really? Rachel Parnell is dead and buried.”
The venom in his voice nearly made Rachel step back. But she was learning to be as tough as she needed in this town of angry people. “Someone is dead all right, but it’s not Rachel Parnell. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were busy.” She turned her back on Archie and saw the corner of Avery’s mouth twitch into a grin.
Archie wasn’t through with her, though. “You can be as haughty as you want, but as soon as we find out who you really are, you’re out of here.” He brushed past them and into the door of the police station.
“Looks like you’ve made another enemy,” Avery said, now with a full-blown smile. “I like your style.”
“Ugh! People like him make me so mad. And now he’s running to Jeremy to tell on me. I’m through caring. I’m going to find out the truth of what went on here with or without their help.”
“That’s the spirit,” Avery said. “Welcome to the club.”
She laughed, but her smile faded when she looked up into Avery’s eyes. “You believe I’m Rachel Parnell, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.” He slid his arm through hers and guided her toward his SUV. “And we’re going to prove it. I promise.”
“Where are we going?”
“I want to show you something if you don’t mind,” Avery said. “It won’t take long.”
She nodded and stepped into his vehicle. Rachel wasn’t sure why she trusted Avery, but she did. She needed to trust someone in this town.
They drove away from downtown toward the older neighborhoods. Passing the park, Rachel shuddered involuntarily. It looked almost the same as when she’d left that day, years ago, and all she could do was imagine the little girl lying dead in the wooded area. The park had once been her refuge as a child. Now, it frightened her.
“What are you thinking?” Avery asked as he turned right a block away from the park.
“About the dead girl and how scared she must have been, fighting her attacker before she died.”
Avery glanced at her. “What makes you think she fought?”
His question surprised Rachel. “You read the trial transcripts, didn’t you? There was skin and blood under her fingernails. That’s why they thought the scratches on Keith’s face were from her.”
He frowned. “How did I miss that? I don’t remember reading it. I do remember the scratches on Keith’s face in the transcripts, but since there was no testing of skin or blood, not much was said.”
“Your Aunt Gladys told me the scratches were important evidence, though. She said it was one of the reasons she thought he was guilty,” Rachel said.
“I’m going to have to re-read those transcripts.”
He turned his car again, and they were in Rachel’s old neighborhood.
“Why are we here?” she asked, feeling uncomfortable being at her old house.
He parked on the opposite side of the street. “I just thought you might like to see the house after all these years. It’s odd because it looks like nothing has changed.”
“I know. I drove by earlier.” She turned to him. “How do you know nothing has changed?”
“I lived right down the street. I walked past here as a kid all the time.”
Rachel frowned. She didn’t remember Avery from school or living in her neighborhood. Although, she never played with the neighborhood kids except for her best friend, Amy. And they always played at the park. “It looks even sadder than when I lived here.” She sighed.
“Yeah. It’s good to see that some of these homes have been remodeled, but this one does look unkempt. I guess since it’s only your mother living here, she couldn’t keep it up very well.”
“She never cared how it looked even when I was little,” Rachel said. “Wait. How did you know she lives here alone?”
He looked confused. “Everyone knows your father left after Keith was convicted.”
“Well, I didn’t know that until Jeremy told me today,” Rachel said resentfully.
“Sorry. I thought you knew. But then, I should have realized you wouldn’t have known.”
From inside the house, Rachel saw a shadow moving behind the window in the living room. She gasped. It had to be her mother. “Can we keep going? I’m not ready to face her yet.”
“Sure. Of Course.” Avery drove off slowly to the end of the block. He stopped again, this time in front of a larger split-level home. It looked like it had been taken care of with fresh paint and nice landscaping.
“Was this your house?” she asked gently.
He nodded. “Yes. At least until I was eight. After my mom was killed, my father couldn’t even look at the place. We moved across town into a newer neighborhood, and then we moved to southern California when I was a teenager. That’s why I went to college down there.”
“Your poor dad,” Rachel said sadly. “That must have been awful for him. Was it just the two of you?”
“No. I have an older sister, Cameron. She was ten at the time.” He looked over at Rachel. “She was the one who found my mother.”
“Oh, my God! How horrible!”
“It was. I was with her. She walked into the house first and saw mom, and instinctively knew to shield me from seeing her. She dragged me out of the house and to the neighbor’s to call the police.” He hung his head. “I had no idea what had happened, and for days, no one told me anything. All I knew was that my mom was gone, and we were living with Aunt Gladys for a while.”
Rachel looked at Avery curiously. “You lived with Gladys after the murders, yet she was still chosen for Keith’s jury? Doesn’t that seem a little odd?”
“All of this is odd,” Avery said angrily. “Three women killed in their own homes. A little girl murdered. Everyone in town thinking it was a sixteen-year-old boy who committed the murders. Evidence not being tested. A bloody fingerprint not being checked against anyone in town. It’s all off.”
Rachel reached out her hand and placed it tenderly on Avery’s arm. “It’s all strange, I agree. You know what I found odd too? Keith’s trial was less than six months after he was arrested. By today’s standards, that’s fast. Why did they rush it?”
Avery’s brows rose. “Didn’t you notice who the prosecuting attorney was?”
“No. I guess I skipped over names. I didn’t think they were as important as the evidence.”
“Oh, the names are important. The prosecutor was Robert Mitchell,” Avery said.
Rachel frowned as the name sank in. “No.”
Avery nodded. “Yes. As in Jeremy Mitchell’s father.”
Chapter Nine
Rachel returned to her motel room that afternoon to try to get some work done, but she couldn’t stop thinking about her conversation with Avery. Jeremy’s father had been the one to prosecute Keith’s case. And Jeremy had been the prime witness. It all seemed a little too tidy to her.
As she tried to focus on her work at the round table by the window, Rachel kept moving the curtain aside to see if that dark, four-door car was out there. It hadn’t been there since her first night in town, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t watching her. But each time she peered out past the parking lot, there were no occupied cars parked on the street. She should be relieved, but Rachel still had the eerie feeling that someone was watching her.
Finally, absorbed in creating cover concepts for her customer, Rachel lost track of time. When her phone rang, she shook the cobwebs from her mind and noticed the time. It was already six o’clock.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Rachel. It’s Avery. Do you want to grab a bite to eat?”
Rachel frowned. She didn’t remember giving Avery her phone number. “Sure. I’m getting hungry. But how did you get my number?”
“Sorry.” He sounded sheepish. “I called Gladys and begged her for it. Since we saw her together this morning, she thought it would be safe to give it to me.”
“Oh.” Rachel was r
elieved. At least he got it in a way that made sense. “I can meet you somewhere.”
“Why don’t I pick you up? We can go to the bar downtown or a chain restaurant out near the highway. Your choice.”
“The bar downtown is fine,” she said.
“Great. I’ll be right over.”
Rachel clicked off her phone and headed into the bathroom. When she looked in the mirror, she nearly scared herself. She hadn’t put on much makeup this morning and hadn’t touched her hair since then, either. “Sheesh. I’d better fix up a bit, or else I’ll scare him,” she said to her reflection.
As she applied mascara and blush, Rachel smiled to herself. She hadn’t worried about looking nice for a man in a long time. She hadn’t dated since her husband passed away or even thought about going out. Not that she thought dinner with Avery was a date, but it kind of felt that way. Avery was nice. And good-looking. She wondered what he thought of her.
There was a knock on Rachel’s door just as she was slipping on a soft leather jacket.
“Hey. I’m ready to go,” she said, opening the door. “Just let me grab my purse.”
He smiled. “You look nice.”
She looked up at him as she lifted her purse from the bed. “Thanks.” He looked good, too. He was clean-shaven again and smelled great. “My treat tonight,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward about staring at him. “You paid last night.”
“Sorry, but I’m a small-town boy at heart, and I wouldn’t even dream of letting you pay. It’s a male-ego thing.” He laughed.
“Well, okay,” she said, turning the lock on her door handle and closing it. “But don’t think you have to always pay when we go out.”
“I don’t mind. And I hope that means we’ll be going out a lot.” He winked.
Rachel felt a blush rise up into her cheeks. No one had made her blush in a long time.
They rode the short distance to downtown, and Avery parked a block from the bar. It wasn’t busy when they entered, which made Jeremy and Archie’s presence at the bar even more obvious. Avery led Rachel to a table at the back of the room, as far from the two men as possible.
“Cripes. Doesn’t Jeremy have a life? Isn’t there a Mrs. Mitchell he needs to go home to?” Rachel asked. It felt like the police officer was everywhere she went.
Avery rolled his eyes. “What woman would put up with him? From what I’ve heard, he was married, but they divorced a while back.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Rachel said.
The bartender came over and took their drink and food order.
“I already know the menu here,” Rachel said, laughing.
“Yeah. I eat here a lot for lunch. Funny, though. I rarely run into Jeremy in here, and it seems like he’s here all the time now.”
Rachel’s brows rose. “Really? He told me that first night I was here that he eats in here all the time.”
“Hmm. Weird,” Avery said.
The bartender brought their drinks—a Coke for Rachel and a beer for Avery—then left again.
“Did you get any work done?” Avery asked after sipping his beer.
She nodded. “I did. It was nice to think about something else for a change. I get so absorbed in my work that I forget about everything else.”
“Creating book covers must be fun,” Avery said, his eyes bright. “I’m sure it’s work, but it must be fulfilling when you finish a design and then see it on an actual book.”
She smiled. “It is fun. Sometimes. If an author lets me be creative and doesn’t micro-manage the design, then it’s really fun. Those are usually my best covers because I don’t feel limited in what I can do.”
“Are authors hard to work with?” he asked.
“Well. I shouldn’t complain because their covers pay the bills, but sometimes, yes. I can’t blame them; it’s their book. But most of my clients are great. I love what I do.”
“Does creativity run in your family? Was your father or mother creative?” Avery asked.
“Not that I remember. My dad worked all the time, so he didn’t have time for hobbies. My mom, well, she sat in front of the television mostly.” Rachel tried to think if Keith ever did anything creative, but she couldn’t picture it. “You know, the only one I remember having any artistic abilities is my Aunt Julie. She worked as an accountant, but she also liked to draw and do crafts and such. She’d paint sometimes, too. I liked to draw as a kid, but once I started using a computer, I loved it.”
“That’s interesting,” Avery said. “Maybe you got your love of design from your aunt.”
Rachel shrugged. “Maybe.”
Their food came, and as they ate, Avery talked a little about how he became interested in journalism. “It actually started after my mother was killed. Once I realized what had happened, I started reading the newspaper looking for clues. As I grew older, I followed other murder cases in the paper. I used to think if I were a newsman, I could unravel some of the cold murder cases myself. It’s funny how a kid thinks, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think that’s odd,” Rachel said. “Although it sounds more like you should have been a detective.” She laughed when she noticed the shocked look on his face. “But a reporter kind of does the same thing,” she continued. “Look at how many cases get solved because the story stays in the news, thanks to reporters. I’m sure if I contacted a reporter in Modesto or Sacramento with my story, Jeremy would have to do something. He’d hate having the press around.”
Avery stopped in mid-bite of his burger and stared at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Maybe that’s exactly what you should do. I know a few media people in Sacramento and San Francisco. You could tell your story and force Jeremy to listen to you.”
She shook her head. “No. I was only kidding. I don’t want to be the center of a big news story.”
“But this is a big story,” Avery said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first.”
Rachel set her fork down in her salad. “Please don’t, Avery. Please. I want to try to find out the facts quietly before it becomes a big story. If I get a bunch of attention, who knows what will happen.”
He nodded but looked disappointed. “Okay. I get it. But if Jeremy keeps dragging his feet, especially after you get your DNA test back, then you have to do something. Contacting the media is a viable option.”
“Let’s see what happens first,” Rachel said.
By the time they were ready to leave, Archie and Jeremy were already gone. Avery drove her back to her motel, and they sat a moment in his car outside her door.
“Thanks again for dinner,” she said. “And for being such a good listener. I’d be going crazy if I didn’t have someone to talk to while I was here.”
“I’m happy to do it,” he said, smiling. “You’ve been a big help to me, too. No one wants to hear me go on and on about my mother’s death anymore. Thanks for listening to me.”
He ran around the car and opened her door, then reached for her hand as they walked to her room. She liked how his hand felt in hers. It was warm and comforting.
“Well, I hope I’ll see you tomorrow,” Avery said, looking down at her.
“I’m sure we can arrange that,” she said softly, smiling.
For a moment, they just stood there in the shadows of the dim light outside her door. It was quiet out, and a cool breeze chilled the air. Avery bent down as she looked up into his eyes. Their lips met for a brief moment, and when they parted, both were smiling.
Rachel pulled her key out of her jacket pocket and unlocked the door. “Goodnight,” she said.
“Goodnight.” Avery turned to leave as Rachel walked inside her room and flicked on the light.
Her scream pierced the silent night air.
***
Avery rushed inside Rachel’s motel room the instant he heard her scream.
“What happened?” he asked, looking around.
Rachel stood in the middle of the room, her face hot with anger. “Someo
ne ransacked my room! Look at it! It’s been torn apart.” She ran to the table by the window and saw her computer had been tossed on the floor. Carefully, she picked it up, praying it wasn’t broken.
“Who would have done this?” Avery asked, dumbfounded. “What would they be looking for?”
“I don’t know.” Rachel placed the computer back on the table. Luckily, it wasn’t broken.
Avery stopped a moment and stared at the back of the room toward the bathroom. “Stay here. I’ll make sure it’s clear.”
Rachel’s heart pounded. She hadn’t stopped to think that the perpetrator could still be here, hiding. She watched as Avery pulled a small pistol out from underneath his jacket and head for the bathroom. She didn’t know what scared her most—the fact that there might be someone still in the room or that Avery carried a gun.
After checking the bathroom and the closet, he gave the all-clear and walked back toward Rachel.
“Why do you have that?” she asked, nodding toward the gun in his hand.
“Oh.” Avery snapped the safety on and slid it back under his jacket. “I’m afraid this isn’t the first time I’ve walked into a ransacked room. Someone did this to me a while back and then tore my office apart at the newspaper, too. I have a permit to carry if that makes you feel any better.”
Rachel sat in one of the chairs at the table. She felt like her world had turned upside-down. “I’ve never had trouble like this before. My life was easy—predictable—before I came here to ‘do the right thing.’ Now, I don’t even know what the right thing is anymore.”
Avery walked over and kneeled in front of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and dropped her head on his shoulder. Gun or no gun, she felt safe with Avery.
“We should call the police,” Rachel said.
Avery pulled back. “Unless they were the ones who did this.”
Their eyes met, and Rachel knew immediately that Avery was right. “So, what do we do? Just ignore it?”
He shook his head. “Hey, wait a minute.” Avery walked outside, looking toward the office. “There’s a security camera facing this way. Come on,” he said, waving to Rachel. “Let’s do a little investigating of our own.”
The Truth About Rachel Page 8