The Truth About Rachel

by Deanna Lynn Sletten

  “I’m sure he will, eventually,” Jeremy said. “It looks like he’s been innocent this entire time.”

  “So, before we tell you our stories, tell me something, Jeremy,” Rachel said. “How did you know to come to the river to save me?”

  “Remember how I had a phone call from Archie right before I dropped you off at the hotel?” Jeremy asked. “When I returned to the police station, he wasn’t there. Yet, he’d seemed so anxious for me to meet him there. No one in the office had seen him, either. That’s when I grew suspicious. Maybe my imagination was in overdrive, but I wondered if he’d called to distract me so I wouldn’t escort you up to your room. And why would he do that? Maybe to get to you. So, I let my instincts take over and rushed to the one place I thought a deranged killer would take his victim—back to the scene of the crime.”

  Rachel was shocked. Did that mean Jeremy had known Archie was the murderer of the little girl all along? “Why would you think that about Archie? Did you know he killed the little girl?”

  Jeremy dropped his head. “When we were teenagers, he used to hint at the fact that he knew things no one else did. He was a blowhard and a jerk. I didn’t take him seriously. But all these years later, after you showed up in town, he was freaking out. He kept saying that you had to leave. That you’d ruin everything. It made me suspect all over again that he’d been involved in the girl’s murder. I just didn’t know to what extent.”

  “Did you think he’d been Keith’s accomplice?” Rachel asked.

  Jeremy shrugged. “I didn’t know. I did see Keith walk into those woods after a little dark-haired girl. That’s all I saw. Was Archie in the woods already? Maybe. I never knew, and I didn’t want to know. Now, I know the truth.”

  Rachel nodded. “Now, we all know the truth. And it’s even worse than we’d originally thought. But it’s finally out there, and that’s a good thing.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

  “Oh and speaking of the truth.” Rachel picked up her purse, slid out the evidence envelope, and handed it to Jeremy. “Sorry. I stole this from the evidence box. It’s how I learned who the murdered girl was.”

  Jeremy opened the envelope and stared at the bracelet inside. “You took it?” he asked, incredulously. “That’s a federal offense.”

  Rachel looked sheepish. “Sorry. You can arrest me if you want. But I’m glad I had it to show Luna. It’s what solved the case.”

  Jeremy rolled his eyes and pushed the small envelope into his pocket. “I never saw it. It’s sitting in the box right now for all I know.”

  Rachel tried to hold back a smile as everyone laughed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Over the next couple of weeks, the truth was revealed. The DNA tests proved that Archie was the person the little girl had scratched while fighting to escape. Other evidence tested positive that Archie was indeed the one who’d raped and murdered the three women in Casita. It seemed unbelievable that a boy of fourteen would commit such horrendous crimes, but it was true. And there was absolutely no evidence to prove that Keith had anything to do with any of the murders.

  Rachel stayed on for those two weeks to learn the results and to attend the reburial service of Leticia Hernandez. Her parents were dead, but her cousin, Luna, and Luna’s mother attended the proper funeral along with multiple local citizens who’d lived there during the time of the murder.

  Avery also stayed and attended the funeral at Rachel’s side. It was sad, but at least now the little girl had the correct name on her headstone and would be acknowledged for who she was.

  Avery and Rachel were inseparable during those two weeks, each knowing that soon they’d be separated, going to their own parts of the country. She moved into his house for the time being so she wouldn’t be hounded by the press. They left all the press conferences to Jeremy because Rachel didn’t want the publicity, and Avery wanted to stay away from the cameras to protect his identity.

  Rachel’s DNA test comparing her to her Aunt Julie confirmed that Julie was her mother. Even though Rachel already knew the truth, she was happy to have the proof. And although Julie and Gordon had taken her illegally all those years ago, no one wanted to make it a criminal case. Julie was suffering from Alzheimer’s, and Gordon was gone. Rachel couldn’t blame them for wanting to have their biological daughter with them. They’d been wonderful parents and grandparents, and that was all that mattered.

  There was only one last piece of the puzzle that needed to be taken care of. And Rachel was both nervous and happy about it all at once. As she and Avery lay in his bed, he asked if she’d like him to accompany her to the prison the next day.

  “I think I have to do this myself,” she said. It would have been nice to have Avery along to lean on, but she knew this was hers alone to do.

  The date and time had been kept confidential so she and her brother would not be bothered by the press. At eleven the next day, she waited nervously in the Solano State Prison parking lot as the guards escorted Keith Parnell outside the gates to freedom.

  Rachel watched the man her brother had become stride toward her. He was tall and lean, his dark hair was short, and he had tattoos covering his muscled arms. He stopped right in front of her, his expression hard. But then he smiled, and his face softened.

  “Thank you for not giving up on me,” he said in the same deep voice as her father’s.

  Tears filled her eyes. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” She reached up to hug him. For the first time ever, her brother, who’d tortured her endlessly as a child, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

  “I’m so happy you’re alive,” he said into her ear.

  When they finally parted, they both smiled, then slid into her car so she could take him to his temporary home. Keith had decided to live in a Transitional Center for the first few weeks out so he could acclimate slowly to his new life of freedom. His mother had wanted him to come home immediately to her, but he told Rachel that wouldn’t have been good for him. He’d get the help and support he needed to restart his new life at the center, and hopefully, soon, could live on his own.

  Rachel also had a chance to visit Frank and his wife at their home just outside of San Francisco. Years before, after he’d left Judith and Casita forever, Frank had worked as a city bus driver and then a bus tour guide before retiring. He’d met Angela when he drove bus. She was a nurse who rode his route every day, and eventually, he’d worked up enough nerve to ask her out. They’d been together for twenty-five years. Angela was sweet, kind, and caring, all the things her father was. They made a lovely couple, and Rachel was thankful her father had met such a lovely woman to spend his life with.

  On her last night in Casita, Rachel and Avery spent every moment together. They grilled steaks, made a salad, and ate by candlelight on his patio. Then they retired to his bedroom where they found happiness in each other’s arms for the last time.

  “We can still see each other,” Avery whispered to her as they lay together, tangled in the sheets. “It’s a quick flight from my home in Maryland to Tallahassee. And you can come to see me, too.”

  “I know,” she said sadly. “But long-distance relationships are difficult. And you’ll be sent on assignment again soon. I’m afraid we’ll drift apart.”

  He kissed her tenderly on the lips. “We won’t. For the first time in years, I’ve found someone I care about very much. I’m not ready for this to end.”

  She smiled up at him. “I don’t want it to end, either. We’ll see where it leads.”

  He kissed her again, and they snuggled close. Rachel was happy. She wanted to hold this feeling close for a long time.

  ***

  A few weeks later, Rachel was back to her regular routine as if nothing extraordinary had happened. She returned to her quiet life of working at home, visiting her Aunt Julie, and seeing her daughter whenever possible. So far, neither she nor Avery had been able to get away to see each other, but they did talk on the phone often and hoped for a weekend visit soon
.

  After her first visit back with her Aunt Julie, Rachel decided not to share her discovery that Julie was her biological mother. The care center had done a great job of keeping Julie away from the news, and she was none the wiser of what had happened in Casita. Julie’s mental state was fragile, and she rarely even remembered the past anymore. Because of that, Rachel decided not to risk harming Julie’s tenuous grasp of reality by telling her she knew the secret. The secret that Julie and Gordon had spent their lives hiding. It saddened Rachel that she might never get a chance to tell Julie how happy she is that she’s her mother. And to thank her for all the love she’d given her. Rachel could only hope that her feelings for Julie were translated in the care and love she gave her.

  As Rachel sat at her desk, working on a cover design for a romance author, her phone buzzed. She generally didn’t give out her number to clients because she preferred to correspond by text or email. But when she saw it was Ariel Weathers, a romance novelist she’d been working with for over four years, she smiled. Rachel enjoyed talking to Ariel. She was witty and knowledgeable, and she always trusted Rachel to create the perfect designs for her.

  “Hi, Ariel. How are you?” Rachel said.

  “Oh, Rachel. I’m so sorry to bother you. But I had to call. I desperately need your help.” Ariel sounded anxious.

  Rachel was surprised. Ariel wrote drama, but she never played at it. If she was upset, there had to be a good reason. “What’s wrong?”

  “I thought you could help me. I mean, after what happened to you and how you solved the mystery of your supposed death, well, I thought you could do the same for me. I really don’t know who else to turn to.”

  “Well, I’m not a professional investigator,” Rachel said. “But I can try to help.”

  “My ex-husband, who died in a boating accident almost a year ago, is stalking me. I think he wants to kill me. I’m scared out of my mind. Will you help?”

  Rachel pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it, stunned. Would she help? She knew she should say no, but now, she was intrigued.

  The End

  Did you enjoy The Truth About Rachel?

  Be sure to read the second book in The Rachel Emery Series

  Death Becomes You

  Coming Summer 2021

  Enjoy this first chapter of

  Death Becomes You

  A Rachel Emery Novel, Book Two

  Chapter One

  Rachel Emery sat at her desk, working on a romance novel cover for one of her authors. It had been a beautiful November day in Tallahassee, and quiet as well, which was fine with Rachel. After the hectic time she’d had in California in September proving she was still alive, she looked forward to the quiet. Rachel was finishing up work for the week and planned on visiting her Aunt Julie the next day for lunch. After that, she was meeting her daughter, Jules, for dinner and a movie afterward. She looked forward to a normal day with her family.

  Her phone buzzed, pulling Rachel out of her thoughts. She glanced at it and smiled. It was Ariel Weathers, one of her clients. Rachel generally didn’t give out her number to clients because she preferred to correspond by text or email. But Arial, a romance novelist she’d been working with for over four years, was different. Rachel enjoyed talking to her. She was witty and knowledgeable, and she always trusted Rachel to create the perfect designs for her.

  “Hi, Ariel. How are you?” Rachel said.

  “Oh, Rachel. I’m so sorry to bother you. But I had to call. I desperately need your help.” Ariel sounded anxious.

  Rachel was surprised. Ariel wrote drama, but she never played at it. If she was upset, there had to be a good reason. “What’s wrong?”

  “I thought you could help me. I mean, after what happened to you and how you solved the mystery of your supposed death, well, I thought you could do the same for me. I really don’t know who else to turn to.”

  “Well, I’m not a professional investigator,” Rachel said. “But I can try to help.”

  “My ex-husband, who died in a boating accident almost a year ago, is stalking me. I think he wants to kill me. I’m scared out of my mind. Will you help?”

  Rachel pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it, stunned. Would she help? She knew she should say no, but now, she was intrigued.

  ***

  “Her dead husband is stalking her?” Jules said, staring wide-eyed at her mother. Her expression almost made Rachel laugh. Her nineteen-year-old daughter was usually so calm and unflappable, but the crazy story Rachel had dropped on her was pretty shocking.

  “That’s what Ariel said,” Rachel told Jules as she took a bite of her grilled chicken. It was Saturday evening, and they’d met for dinner and planned to go to a movie afterward. “Her ex-husband, Randall, died over eight months ago when his yacht blew up in the Gulf. Now, she keeps seeing him. She’s afraid he faked his death and is now after her to get the life insurance money.”

  Jules pushed back her long, auburn hair and took a bite of her burger. “That sounds like something crazy from a thriller movie. How could he fake his death? Didn’t they need to prove he was dead before they paid her the insurance money?”

  Rachel shrugged. They were sitting outside on the restaurant’s patio, and a gust of wind came up suddenly. She slipped her dark hair back behind her ears, out of her face. Since returning from California, Rachel had let her hair grow longer, and it was now almost as long as her daughter’s. But the two women couldn’t have looked more different from each other. Rachel’s five-feet, seven-inch height was no match to Jules’s tall, slender frame. Jules was wearing skinny jeans and heels that made her legs look endless. Rachel was no slouch, but next to her daughter, she felt short.

  “I don’t know all the details. I told Ariel I’d visit her tomorrow at her house, and we could talk then,” Rachel said. “She was nervous about discussing it on the phone.”

  “You’ll have to let me know what she says,” Jules said. She cocked her brow at her mother. “She’s not a kook, is she?”

  Rachel laughed. “I never thought she was before. We’ll see after tomorrow.”

  As they ate, they talked about Jules’ college classes and her friend, Amber, who lived with her at the nice off-campus apartment they shared. Then Jules asked about her mother’s visit with Julie earlier in the day.

  Rachel sighed. “You’re Aunt Julie isn’t doing very well. Her memory is getting worse. She didn’t recognize me until I was almost ready to leave after lunch. Shirley, her caretaker at the memory unit, said her memory has been in and out. Julie doesn’t even remember Shirley sometimes.”

  “That’s so sad,” Jules said. “I should go and see her again really soon. It’s hard when she doesn’t know who you are, though.”

  “It is. I had hoped Julie’s new medication would help her, but it doesn’t seem to be working. I was so hoping I could tell her I know the truth now—about her being my biological mother. I think if she were thinking clearly, she’d be relieved I finally know the truth. But in her state of mind, it would only upset her.” Rachel had unraveled the family secret when she’d returned to her hometown of Casita, California in September to prove she was alive. Everyone had thought she was the girl in the grave from thirty-five years earlier when the truth was her aunt and uncle had taken her away all those years ago. After solving the mystery, Rachel had learned that her Aunt Julie and Uncle Gordon were her actual parents, which was why they had taken her. Now, with her Uncle Gordon deceased and her Aunt Julie suffering from Alzheimer’s, Rachel couldn’t let her know that she’d learned the truth.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” Jules said sympathetically. “But at least you know the truth.”

  Rachel agreed. She was no longer in the dark about her family’s history.

  They left soon afterward and went to see a romantic comedy movie. It was fun relaxing with her daughter and forgetting about everything. Two hours later, Rachel said goodbye to Jules and headed back to her home a half-hour away.

  As
she crawled into bed, Rachel’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it and smiled. Avery Turley, the man she’d met in California in September who’d helped her solve the mystery of the murdered girl, had texted her. They’d become very close during the investigation but unfortunately hadn’t been able to find a weekend where they both could get away and see each other. He was an FBI agent at a bureau in Maryland, and his job kept him busy around the clock.

  “Hope you had a fun time with Jules at the movies. Hopefully, we can grab a movie together sometime soon,” Avery texted.

  “I hope so too,” Rachel texted back. “I’ll call you tomorrow night and let you know what’s new. Something interesting has happened.”

  “Hopefully, nothing dangerous,” Avery texted.

  She laughed. After nearly being shot and having her head smashed in with a rock in September, meeting with Ariel was not even close to dangerous.

  “No. Not dangerous.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Rachel texted goodnight too and set her phone down. She missed Avery. He was the first man she’d become involved with since her husband, Carter, had died four years ago. She really hoped to see Avery soon.

  “But first, I have to find out about the dead ex-husband stalking Ariel,” she said to herself.

  ***

  Sunday morning, Rachel drove her Honda CRV in the rain the two hours it took to reach Ariel’s Panama City home. Luckily, the downpour had cleared by the time she drove into the elegant neighborhood and pulled into Ariel’s driveway. Rachel glanced around the quiet street. Ariel’s home had an island look to it with a long, covered porch and two large willow trees shading the front lawn. Each yard was separated by tall brick walls and had carefully manicured green lawns.

  Rachel grabbed her purse and walked up to the front door where she noticed a security camera hidden under the eaves. It was warm out, but they weren’t far from the Gulf of Mexico, and she felt its cooling breeze. She’d worn jeans and a light cotton shirt with flat sandals and hoped she hadn’t underdressed now that she’d seen how nice Ariel’s house was. Before Rachel even touched the doorbell, Ariel threw open the door.