“Me, too. My Aunt Julie is too fragile to be bothered. I’d hate to think of what would happen if they found her.” Rachel was worried just thinking about it. And she worried about her daughter. She didn’t want Jules to have to fight off the press, either.
“Listen,” Jeremy said, sounding hesitant. “I know you’ve been spending a lot of time around Avery. I also know it’s not my business, but I feel I should at least warn you about him.”
Rachel laughed. “About Avery? Are you kidding me?”
“This is serious,” Jeremy insisted. “Do you really know anything about him?”
Rachel frowned. “I know enough.”
Jeremy sighed. “What I’m saying is, he came to town a few months ago and supposedly bought the newspaper, but I never saw any proof go through that he actually owns it. And I also can’t find his name connected to any of the newspaper publications he claims to have worked at.”
“He has an office in the newspaper building. I’ve been in it. If he doesn’t work there or own it, why would they let him pretend he does?”
“I know,” Jeremy said, sounding frustrated. “But something is fishy. He has no social media past or any connections to newspapers in California. I can’t even find where he went to college. It’s strange, and I’m just telling you to warn you. He’s not who he claims to be.”
Anger rose inside Rachel. “You don’t have a social media presence either. Does that make you guilty of something?”
“You’ve been researching me?” Jeremy asked, sounding surprised.
Rachel became flustered. “I’m just saying that no social media presence doesn’t mean someone is hiding something.”
There was a long pause before Jeremy answered. “Okay. I’m just trying to warn you. Enough said.”
There was a knock on Rachel’s door. “I think my dinner is here,” she said, wanting to cut off their conversation. “I have to go.”
“Wait!” Jeremy’s tone sounded like an order. “Look out the peephole first. It could be some crazy person.”
Rachel sighed and did as he said. To her surprise, Archie, the mayor, was standing on the other side. She backed up away from the door. “It’s the mayor,” she whispered into the phone. “Why would he be here?”
“Don’t answer it!” Jeremy ordered. “Don’t even talk to him. And don’t open the door until my officer gets there. I’ll call Archie after I hang up from you and tell him to get away from there.”
She wondered why Jeremy was so upset. Archie gave her the creeps, but was he dangerous? “Okay. I won’t open it.”
“Okay. Goodbye.” He hung up, and within seconds, she heard Archie’s phone ringing in the hallway.
Rachel walked back to the door and looked out the peephole. Archie was yelling at Jeremy, and his face was bright red.
“I just want to talk to her about her crazy mother,” Archie said into the phone. “There’s no law against that.”
Rachel couldn’t make out what Jeremy was saying to him, but she could hear that his voice sounded angry over the phone.
“Fine! Who runs this town, anyway?” Archie spat into his phone. “I have the right to do whatever I want.” He hit the button for the elevator, and when it opened, he stepped inside.
Rachel pulled away from the door. What on earth was going on in this town? Jeremy acted suspiciously. Avery was out digging up Jeremy’s past. Jeremy was telling her that Avery wasn’t who he said he was. And now Archie showed up at her door. At this point, Rachel didn’t know who she could trust.
She heard the elevator ding, and she glanced out into the hallway again. It was the officer showing up for his night shift to protect her, and a man carrying a bag was following him. The man knocked on her door with the officer right by his side.
“Food delivery,” the man said.
Rachel sighed. She opened the door a little, took the food, and smiled at the officer. Then she closed the door and bolted it again. She really hated not being able to trust anyone and feeling like a prisoner in her own room.
***
The next morning, Rachel rose early, showered, and dressed. She was anxious to get to the police department and go through the evidence. The night before, Avery had called to say he was in Sacramento for the night, digging through old newspapers at the library. He didn’t tell her what he was looking for but said he’d be back early this morning. Whatever he was searching for must have been important for him to stay overnight.
Rachel slipped her small purse over her shoulder and walked out of the room. She was surprised to see the officer from the night before still there.
“Good morning,” he said. “I was asked to drive you to the station.”
That was news to Rachel. “I can take my own car, thank you.”
“Sorry. Chief’s orders. He wants to make sure you get there safely.”
Rachel rolled her eyes but followed the officer into the elevator and to his patrol car.
“What was with the police escort?” Rachel asked Jeremy when she walked into his office.
“Good morning to you, too,” he said, smirking. “I wanted to make sure you arrived safely. Did the press tail you?”
“Not that I know of,” she said.
“Good. I’ll drive you back afterward.” He stood, picked up a small box from his desk, and waved for her to follow him. “The evidence is in the basement.”
Rachel wasn’t thrilled about going to the basement with Jeremy, but she had no choice. Besides, they were in a police station. What could happen?
Jeremy stopped at the desk of the female officer who’d brought in the water bottles the day before and spoke quietly to her. She rose and followed them to the elevator. Once inside, Jeremy introduced them. “This is Officer Carswell. I asked her to join us for your protection, and mine.”
When Rachel raised her brows, Jeremy explained. “It would be best to have a third party with us, that’s all.”
Rachel was actually relieved Officer Carswell was with them. She felt safer.
When they arrived downstairs, Rachel followed Jeremy down a long, brightly lit hallway painted gray. On their right was an area that looked like a giant cage packed with boxes.
“Our evidence lock-up,” Jeremy explained even though she hadn’t asked. “We keep evidence from recent crimes here, and the older ones are stored elsewhere.”
Rachel nodded and continued following him. At the end of the hallway was a larger room with good lighting. A metal table stood in the middle of the room. It held one regular-sized banker’s box.
The group of three stopped at the table and stared at the lone box.
“There it is,” Jeremy said.
Rachel looked at the box as sadness crept over her. One box. That was all that was left of a little girl’s life. An eight-year-old girl with the promise of a full life ahead of her that had been snuffed out by some horrible person.
As if reading her thoughts, Jeremy spoke up. “It’s eerie, isn’t it? One box is all our lives come down to. Sad.”
Rachel’s eyes lifted to his. “Yes, it is.”
“Well, should we get on with it?” he asked.
She nodded.
Jeremy set the small box he’d been carrying on the table. Then he lifted the lid of the banker’s box and set it aside. “We can look at everything, but if we unseal something, we have to reseal and date it. And we all have to wear these.” He nodded to the box of sterile gloves.
Rachel took a deep breath as she pulled on the thin gloves. She peered into the box tentatively, afraid to touch the contents. She didn’t want to ruin evidence that might convict or absolve someone.
“Nothing inside will bite,” Jeremy said, grinning. He pulled out file folders first and pushed them toward Rachel. “Crime scene photos, reports, probably the official coroner’s report, too. Feel free to look through them.”
She began scanning the official crime scene report, pushing aside the graphic pictures. Rachel wasn’t sure she wanted to see the little girl’s de
ad body. Jeremy pulled out manila envelopes that had been sealed and placed them on the table. There were large and small paper envelopes with all types of evidence in them. Officer Carswell stood to the side, ready to assist if needed.
Rachel found some of the reports interesting, but most of the information she’d already read from Avery’s files. She glanced up and watched as Jeremy scanned through the photos. He remained silent, but she saw him grimace. “Haven’t you seen those before?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I was a teenager when I testified. They didn’t allow me to see any of the evidence that the jury would have seen. I only told my version of the story and then left the courtroom.”
“That must have been difficult, testifying against your friend,” she said gently.
His eyes raised to hers. “By the time I testified against Keith, I was scared to death of him. I knew he was capable of being mean, even hurting people. But murder? Because we all believed the dead girl was his sister, I had no doubt that he’d killed her. I’d seen him hurt you several times in the past. I figured he’d finally gone too far.”
“You said you saw me walking into the woods. Did you see the girl’s face?” Rachel asked.
He shook his head. “No. I saw a young girl with long dark hair walking into the woods. She looked like you.”
Rachel frowned. “There were a lot of dark-haired little girls around. What was it about the girl that looked like me? The clothes?”
Jeremy looked frustrated. “I don’t know. I just thought it was you. I had just come to the park to meet up with Keith and Archie. That’s when I saw the little girl hurry into the woods. Then I watched as Keith followed her in. I guess I assumed it was you. He was always picking on you.”
“Why didn’t you follow him?” she asked.
“I didn’t want to be a part of his bullying you. So, I ended up going home.”
Rachel cocked her head. “Wait. You said you were going to catch up with Archie, too.”
“Yeah. So.”
“Where was he?” Rachel asked.
Jeremy shrugged. “He wasn’t with Keith, and I didn’t see him. So, I left.”
“I don’t remember you hanging around with Archie. I don’t remember him at all. I just remember you being Keith’s sidekick,” Rachel said.
Jeremy snorted. “Sidekick. Yeah. I suppose that’s what I was to him. Keith gave orders. Archie did too. I had very little self-esteem in those days. My father was the local DA, and I was just a long-haired kid who got into trouble sometimes. But I was never as bad as Keith or Archie. Those two crossed lines.”
Rachel wasn’t sure what he meant by crossed lines, but she knew how terrible Keith could be.
“Let’s look at some of this evidence,” Jeremy said, changing the subject.
Rachel studied the bags. “Can we look at her clothes? Maybe I’d recognize something.”
He nodded and carefully unsealed one of the bags. He pulled out a meticulously folded T-shirt. It was red with white stars printed on it. Some of the stars had brown spots on them.
“It’s blood,” Jeremy said, although Rachel had already figured that out. “They fold the clothes with stains around white paper to protect the bloodstains from smearing on the rest of the fabric. Just in case.”
“Just in case?” she asked.
“In case they need to test it again. But in this situation, it’s the girl’s blood. The report stated that.”
Rachel didn’t recognize the shirt as one she’d owned or anyone she’d known had worn. They opened each envelope as Officer Carswell carefully folded and sealed the ones they’d already opened. A pair of jean shorts, white socks, and red slip-on sneakers. Rachel didn’t recognize any of it.
There were smaller envelopes too, marked as blood and tissue evidence. Rachel picked one up but didn’t open it. “This is the tissue found under the little girl’s fingernails,” she said, staring at Jeremy. “This little envelope has the power to exonerate Keith.”
Jeremy’s jaw tightened. “Or keep him in prison.”
“Maybe,” Rachel said. “But I know from the court documents that it was never tested. Now, this evidence could prove who the killer was. Or who the killer wasn’t.”
“I saw him walk in the woods that day,” Jeremy insisted.
“But he may not have been the only one in there,” she countered. She picked up two other small envelopes. “We need to have these tested.”
“They’ve probably degraded after all this time,” Jeremy said.
Rachel sighed loudly. “Jeremy. You were wrong about who walked into the woods that day. You could be wrong about who murdered the girl. We need to learn the truth.” She lowered her voice. “It’s your job, Jeremy.”
Jeremy dropped his head. “Yes. It is.” He reached out for the envelopes, and she handed them to him.
“Will you send them in?” she asked, afraid he’d toss them instead. She still didn’t trust Jeremy.
He nodded. “I’ll do it. I promise. Once we’re finished here.”
Hoping he’d keep his word, Rachel looked at a few more envelopes. Jeremy had opened one of the files and was reading it. Suddenly, something caught Rachel’s eye. An envelope was marked bracelet.
She carefully unsealed the small envelope and peered inside. A thin, handmade bracelet made of yellow and blue thread lay inside. There were small brown spots on it—more than likely dried blood. Suddenly, Rachel was transported back to the day before her Aunt Julie and Uncle Gordon took her away. She was in the park, braiding friendship bracelets with her friend. A little girl with tan skin and dark hair had shyly walked up to her, and Rachel had asked if she wanted to make a bracelet. “I like yours,” the little girl had said. Rachel had been wearing a blue and yellow bracelet, just like this one.
Rachel stared at the bracelet, frozen back in time. That night, after she’d fought off Keith and scratched him, her father had asked her about the bracelet, and then he’d said, “It’s pretty. Like you.” Rachel had remembered how proud she’d felt that her father had noticed something she’d made.
Something she’d made.
Looking up, she noted that both Officer Carswell and Jeremy were distracted. She slipped the envelope into her small purse as her heart pounded in her chest.
“I know why my father identified the body as mine,” she announced. Both officers turned and stared at her. “And I know who the dead girl is.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Who?” Jeremy asked, coming over to her.
“I’ll tell you as soon as you send this evidence to the lab,” Rachel said. “We can pack up the rest. I’ve found what I need.”
Jeremy gave the three small envelopes to Officer Carswell with explicit instructions to send them off to the lab for DNA testing. He also left her to pack up the evidence while he and Rachel rode the elevator up to the offices.
“Tell me who you think the little girl is,” Jeremy said, sounding anxious.
“In your office,” she told him.
He hurried her to his office and shut the door. Rachel sat in one of the chairs, still unable to believe she’d finally figured everything out. Jeremy sat on the corner of his desk.
“So? Tell me,” he said.
She took a breath. “I think my father identified the body as mine because of the bracelet I was wearing. You said the little girl’s face was smashed in—completely unrecognizable. I’m sure it was a gruesome sight for my father to see. He had to have been an emotional wreck. When he saw the bracelet, he just assumed it was me.”
Jeremy frowned. “Bracelet? What bracelet?”
“I saw it in the evidence box,” Rachel said, feeling her cheeks burn at the thought that she’d so blatantly taken it. “Do you remember that day, before the murder, when you and Keith came over to the table I was sitting at? There was another little girl with me, and we were making bracelets. She was a migrant worker’s daughter, but she and I had the same hair and eye color.”
Jeremy’s forehead wrin
kled as he thought. “I really don’t remember. I mean, you were in the park all the time, and your brother bothered you a lot. Every day just seems to blend together.”
“Anyway,” Rachel continued. “That little girl made the same color bracelet as the one I was wearing. And that night, my dad had come home from trucking and noticed my bracelet. When he saw it on the dead girl’s arm, he must have immediately thought it was me.”
Jeremy stood up and walked around to the other side of his desk. “It sounds logical. I mean, it could have happened that way,” he mumbled to himself. He looked directly at Rachel. “So, who was she?”
Rachel’s heart beat quickly. She couldn’t believe she’d finally fit all the pieces together. And once she’d remembered the bracelet, a floodgate of memories filled her mind. She remembered going home and hearing Julie and Judith fighting. She remembered the news her mother was watching about another woman found dead in her home. How Keith had put her in a chokehold, and she’d scratched his face. Her father coming to her rescue. It all came back to her along with the name of the little girl she’d met that day.
“Luna. Luna Hernandez. Her father was a migrant worker but had found a permanent job here, and they’d rented a house. I remember it all—everything she said.”
Jeremy stared at her, his expression blank. “Luna Hernandez?”
“Yes.”
“And she was your age?” he asked.
“Yes. Same age, same hair, same build. We looked a lot alike,” Rachel said.
Jeremy sighed.
“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked, suddenly confused. Why wasn’t Jeremy as excited as she was about finally having the name of the victim?
Jeremy walked toward the door, waving to her to follow. “I’ll show you,” he said.
Rachel rose, bewildered. She followed Jeremy through the office of desks separated by partitions. Jeremy stopped a moment to speak quietly with the front desk officer, then headed out the back door to his squad car.
The Truth About Rachel Page 14