The Truth About Rachel

by Deanna Lynn Sletten

  “Hello?”

  “Rachel? It’s Gladys.”

  Rachel smiled. She liked the older woman. “Hi. What’s up?”

  “Is there a chance you could stop by the office today? I need to show you something.”

  Rachel frowned. Gladys’s voice sounded off, like she was nervous or anxious. “I can come right now,” she told her.

  “Good. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Rachel hopped into her car and drove the short distance. The town was quiet, with hardly anyone on the street. She ran up the steps of City Hall and into the building. Gladys was waiting for her on the other side of the glass window.

  “Just a minute, dear,” Gladys said. She went to her desk, lifted a file folder, and then headed out of the office door. “Come to the break room with me.”

  Rachel followed her, and they sat at the small, coffee-stained table in the cramped break room.

  “I did some more digging to see if there was a way to prove you are Rachel Parnell. But what I found was even more confusing,” Gladys said. She opened the file and pulled out a sheet of paper. “I wondered about the fact that your aunt and uncle took you, and I dug into information about your actual birth. I talked to some friends who worked in the records department of several area hospitals. There is no record of Judith Parnell giving birth to Rachel Parnell. I found that odd.”

  Rachel’s brows shot up. “Maybe you didn’t find the right hospital.”

  The older woman shook her head and slid the paper toward Rachel. “I did find the right hospital, but it was under the wrong name. There was a record of Julie Arden giving birth to a little girl on the same birthdate as yours. The father was Gordon Scott.”

  Rachel stared at the birth certificate, unable to believe her eyes. “That can’t be. How could Aunt Julie have given birth to me and then given me up? For as long as I can remember, she wanted me to come live with her. It makes no sense.”

  Gladys slid another sheet of paper toward Rachel. It was a copy of the birth certificate that stated Frank and Judith Parnell as her parents. “The birth date and your name are the same on this certificate, right down to the hour and minute of birth, except your last name isn’t Arden; it’s Parnell. The seal on this birth certificate is two months after your actual birth date.”

  Rachel’s mind spun as she tried to piece the truth together. If all this was true, Aunt Julie was her real mother, and Judith Parnell was her aunt. That meant that Julie had given her up. But why?

  “It looks like Julie Arden was twenty when you were born,” Gladys said. “Maybe she wasn’t ready to be a mother. Maybe she and Gordon weren’t ready to marry. Whatever the reason, it looks like her sister adopted you, then a few years later, Julie regretted it.”

  Rachel stared at the paperwork, trying to absorb all the new information. If this was true, it would answer so many questions. This was why her DNA placed Keith as a half-sibling or first cousin. And Judith would be related to her, but not as her mother.

  “This is so hard to believe,” Rachel finally said. “But it makes sense, too. It’s a lot to take in, though.”

  Gladys patted her arm. “I’m sorry, dear. I know this must be difficult. Everything you thought was true has been turned upside-down. But this might help to unravel your case.”

  “How do you mean?” Rachel asked.

  “I talked to Avery earlier. He said Jeremy won’t let you see the evidence. But now, with what we know about your parentage, you can prove you’re Rachel Parnell by getting a DNA test from your true mother, Julie.”

  Her true mother, Julie. Those words hit Rachel hard. This was the truth her Aunt Julie had wanted to keep secret. Ever since her memory had been failing, all Julie could talk about were secrets. She hadn’t wanted Rachel to learn she’d given her up once.

  “Are you okay?” Gladys asked, looking concerned.

  Rachel shook her head to clear it. “I’m just trying to sort this all out. I need to talk to Avery so we can decide what we should do next.” She stood. “Thank you so much for finding this information. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

  Gladys stood and took off her reading glasses. “It was a pleasure, dear. It’s time the truth came out. If I can do anything else, let me know.”

  Rachel slipped the documents into the file folder and headed out of the building. As she opened the doors, she was shocked to see a crowd of people standing on the top step. Someone pushed a microphone into her face.

  “Is it true you claim to be Rachel Parnell, the little girl murdered thirty-five years ago?” the woman wearing too much makeup and a blue suit asked her.

  Rachel blinked from the bright lights, and a flood of flashbulbs went off with everyone screaming at her at once as microphones were shoved in her direction.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rachel stood, stunned by what was happening. Questions were coming at her from all sides as lights blinded her. She raised her hand up to shade her eyes. Where had all these reporters come from? How did they find her?

  Jeremy suddenly appeared beside her, having come from the City Hall door. “No comment!” he yelled at the many journalists who continued to barrage Rachel with questions. “And get off the steps! This is city property.”

  He wrapped his arm around the stunned Rachel and pulled her back into City Hall, clicking the lock on the door behind them. The crowd outside grumbled but did as they were told, moving down off the stairs.

  Jeremy faced Rachel. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “I don’t know. I walked outside, and there they were. I have no idea where they came from,” Rachel said, still stunned.

  Jeremy waved for her to follow him, and he unlocked the door that led into the offices. She followed him past Gladys’s desk as the older woman stared at her, shocked. They took the short hallway into the police station and headed for his office.

  Rachel fell into one of the chairs across from Jeremy’s desk. Jeremy went out a moment and came back with a can of Coke.

  “Here. You look like you could use a stiff drink, but this is the best we can do,” he said, setting it in front of her.

  Automatically, Rachel snapped it open and took a sip. Her mind was trying to register what had happened.

  “Now. Do you want to tell me why you called the press? Did you think this was going to force me to show you the evidence?” Jeremy asked, his face tight with anger.

  “Me?” Rachel yelled, the shock finally wearing off. “I didn’t call the press.”

  Jeremy sat up straight, nervously tapping his fingers on the desk. “From the deer-in-the-headlights look on your face a moment ago, I’m inclined to believe you. But it doesn’t matter who called them. What matters is now this case is going to be splashed all over the headlines, and I’m the one who’ll have to deal with it.”

  Rachel watched him, noting that he was clearly upset over this. She wondered why having the press dig into this case bothered him so much.

  “What is going on over at City Hall?” Avery asked, rushing into Jeremy’s office. He kneeled next to Rachel. “Are you okay? We had the television on at the newspaper, and suddenly I saw your face splashed all over it.”

  “I’m okay, now,” she said, getting her bearings back. “But it scared the crap out of me. Where did they all come from so quickly?”

  Jeremy narrowed his eyes and pointed at Avery. “You! It was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Me?” Avery asked, standing up. “Why would I call the press?”

  “Because you have access to the right people. You used to work in L.A. You’d be able to pull this together quickly.”

  Rachel looked up at Avery. “Did you do this?” she asked softly.

  Avery’s eyes met hers. “No. I didn’t have anything to do with it. I promise.”

  She nodded. She had to trust someone, and Avery was the only person she trusted.

  Jeremy ran his hand through his hair. “We have to diffuse this situation. We can’t have a swarm of p
ress running around this town asking questions.”

  Avery narrowed his eyes at Jeremy. “Why? What harm will it do to try to find the truth?”

  “I won’t have the people and businesses in this town be harassed by a bunch of reporters,” Jeremy said. “All because this woman claims to be someone she isn’t.”

  Anger rose inside Rachel. “I am Rachel Parnell. How many times do I have to tell you that? And I have a way to prove it.”

  “Really? How?” Jeremy asked, sneering.

  “I’m not getting into it with you now,” she said. “I’m getting a lawyer. You won’t help me anyway.”

  Jeremy swiped his hand through the air as if to brush her off. “First thing we need to do is get you out of this office.”

  “She can’t drive to her motel, they’ll just follow her,” Avery said. He turned to Rachel. “Now will you listen to me and go to a safer hotel? You need a place where the press can’t sit outside your door.”

  “He’s right,” Jeremy said. “You won’t be safe at the motel. We need to get you to one of the bigger places.”

  Rachel sighed. She hated to admit it, but they were right. “Fine. But I still have to get my things.”

  “I’ll take you in the squad car to pick up your things. Avery can go ahead of us to the hotel and book a room under his name. That way the press might not find you right away,” Jeremy said.

  “Good idea,” Avery said.

  “Don’t sound surprised. I do have good ideas once in a while,” Jeremy grumbled.

  “You know, you’re going to have to talk to the press eventually,” Avery said. “We should work on a statement once we get you settled.”

  “This is a nightmare,” Rachel said.

  “You’re telling me,” Jeremy piped up.

  They walked out the back door to Jeremy’s patrol car, and no one followed them to her motel. She packed her bags and paid her bill, then he drove her to the nice hotel on the edge of town near the highway. Avery was waiting there for her.

  “Don’t talk to reporters without consulting with me first,” Jeremy ordered before leaving her in Avery’s hands.

  Rachel ignored him, and she and Avery went up to her third-floor room. “This is so much nicer than my other room, that’s for sure,” she said as she glanced around the small suite. There was an actual desk where she could work, a king-sized bed, and a sofa-sleeper as well. “This room is going to eat up all my daughter’s college fund.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Avery said. “I’ll be happy to pay for it.”

  She shook her head. “No. I can’t take money from you.”

  “Rachel.” Avery went to her and wrapped his arms around her. “Please let me help you. That’s all I want to do. I can afford to, and I want you to be safe.”

  Despite herself, Rachel curled into him and laid her head on his shoulder. It had been a long time since she’d let someone take care of her. Too long. And it felt good.

  When Avery pulled away, he looked down tenderly at her, and she saw only good in his warm brown eyes. He dropped his head slowly as if waiting for her consent, and she rose up on tiptoe until their lips met. His kiss warmed her in a way she hadn’t felt in so long. His lips soft against hers, and her body responded so quickly, it surprised her.

  With his arms still circling her, he looked at her seriously. “Should I apologize for kissing you?”

  She grinned. “You’d better not.”

  Avery laughed, then kissed her quickly on the lips before finally letting her go. “Okay. We have some work to do. But first, I’ll run and pick up dinner, then we can make a game plan for tomorrow.”

  Avery left, and Rachel began setting up her computer on the desk. She smiled as she did, still feeling the warmth of Avery’s lips on hers. Her phone broke into her thoughts, and she checked the ID before answering. It was Jeremy.

  “I’m sending an officer to stay overnight on your floor to make sure no one bothers you,” he said the minute she answered. “And no, you have no choice about it.”

  His tone irritated her, but she wasn’t entirely against having a guard out in the hallway. “Won’t that be a sure sign I’m staying here? What if some of the press are staying here too?”

  “Some are, so that’s why I’m sending him. You won’t even know he’s there. He’ll keep the press off your tail.”

  Rachel thanked him and hung up. There were a lot of reasons to dislike Jeremy, but he was trying to protect her, and she was thankful for that.

  Rachel was exhausted. It was after six o’clock, she was hungry, and had a lot to think about. When her phone rang again, she sighed but cheered up when she saw it was her daughter.

  “Hey, Jules. I’m glad you called.”

  “Mom! What’s happening out there? Your story is all over the national news!” Jules sounded like she was in shock.

  “What? Are you kidding me?”

  “Turn on your TV,” Jules said. “Or go online. It’s everywhere.”

  Rachel found the remote for the television and turned it on. Flipping the channels, she found a news station, and there was a video of her, standing in front of City Hall, looking dazed.

  “Thirty-five years ago, an eight-year-old girl was murdered in the tiny town of Casita, California, not far from Modesto. Her sixteen-year-old brother was convicted of the gruesome crime. The girl, Rachel Parnell, has now risen from the grave as this woman claims to be her. We will report more details as we learn them.”

  Rachel listened to the news reporter as she stared at her own face. This was the last thing she’d wanted—her face plastered all over the news.

  “Mom? Mom! Are you still there?” Jules yelled through her phone.

  “Yes. Sorry. I was watching the news. I can’t believe it’s all over the country. This is crazy!” Rachel said.

  “I know. It’s gone viral. Mom, you’re trending on Twitter. Everyone is talking about your story.”

  “How am I ever going to find answers now?” Rachel said, dropping down on the bed. She was so frustrated. She’d been thwarted at every turn just trying to learn the truth.

  “What do you mean?” Jules asked. “Use it. Now that the press is involved, they’re going to have to reopen the case. This may end up being a good thing, Mom.”

  Avery had said the same thing just this morning. Now, Rachel had no choice.

  ***

  Avery came back with food and was shocked to hear that Rachel had hit the national news. She’d left the TV on with the sound off, and they kept flipping channels as they ate. She was the main topic of conversation on several news channels. Reporters were repeating the story of her murder, rehashing the trial transcripts, and reporting anything they could dig up about her. Luckily for Rachel, they had no idea her married name was Rachel Emery, and they hadn’t figured out that her aunt—Mom?—had taken her and changed her last name to Scott. At least her current identity was safe until someone recognized her photo and called in that they knew who she was. Rachel dreaded that.

  “How do they get all their information so quickly?” Rachel asked Avery as they both sat staring at the television. “It’s insane. And they keep speculating on information they don’t even have.”

  “It’s a circus,” Avery said, sounding disgusted. “They don’t care if they get the correct information or not. They just want to be the first to say it.”

  After eating, Rachel sat back in her chair and studied Avery.

  “What?” he asked when he noticed her staring.

  “I have to ask you this, and you need to tell me the truth,” Rachel said. “Did you alert the media?”

  Avery had the good grace not to pretend to be shocked by her question. “I promise you, it wasn’t me. I never contacted the media. I haven’t even said anything to my employees at the paper. If I’d wanted to make a story of it, I would have done it in my own newspaper first.”

  “I want to believe you,” Rachel said. “I need someone to trust, and I want it to be you. I can’t do this alone.�
��

  “You can trust me.” Avery reached for her hand and held it firmly. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt or upset you. I promise.”

  Rachel had no choice. She desperately wanted to believe Avery. “So, what do we do now?”

  “It’s out there, so we may as well use the press. Honestly, they can help us if we’re careful what we leak to them.”

  “My daughter said that too. It scares me, though. If they find out who I am and where I live, they could start bothering my daughter, or worse yet, my aunt. If Julie sees this on television, she could freak out. She’s in a fragile frame of mind already.”

  “You should call the place where she lives and warn them not to let her watch the news. You don’t need any more stress than you already have,” Avery said.

  Rachel agreed. She immediately texted Jules to ask her to talk to Shirley at the care center.

  “The next thing we need to do is write up a statement for the press,” Avery said. “We’ll control what we give them. The press can put a lot of pressure on Jeremy to dig into the case.”

  “Okay. Then what?”

  “I found a lawyer who will file a request to the court to open the evidence. So, while he’s working on that, I figured you and I would work on something else.”

  “What?” Rachel asked, intrigued.

  Avery grinned. “I did some digging and found Robert Mitchell, the DA. He’s retired but lives in Modesto. Lawyers generally keep their own case files. He may still have his. I think we should give him a little surprise visit.”

  ***

  The next morning, flanked by Avery and the officer assigned to protect her, Rachel stood on the steps of City Hall and gave a press conference to the eager reporters. They’d purposely kept Jeremy and the Mayor, Archie, in the dark. Avery wanted Rachel to have a chance to share her side of the story without them standing there, lying.

  The night before, Rachel had told Avery what she’d learned from Gladys about her true parentage. They’d called Jules and asked her to get a DNA sample from Julie so they could compare the results with Rachel’s. Jules would overnight it to the Central Valley testing facility in care of Glady’s cousin, and hopefully it would be run through as quickly as possible. Once it was determined that Rachel was Julie’s true daughter, it should be enough proof to move forward in discovering who the dead girl really was.