Moving slowly away from the grave, Rachel walked in the direction of her car. She heard footsteps following her and quickened her pace. Was it the man who’d parked outside her motel last night? Why was he following her? The footsteps behind her grew heavier as if he were running. Rachel didn’t dare turn around to see who it was. She broke into a sprint, heading up a small incline, avoiding the many trees in her path. If she could just get to her car, she could lock herself inside and be safe.
Rachel ran up one hill and then down another. She could still hear the thumping of footsteps trailing her. As she tried to turn to see who it was, she ran headlong into something strong and hard.
“Umph!” she cried as she collided into another body. Her head spun forward, and she saw it was a man. Scared out of her wits, she tried to move away, but he grabbed her wrists and held on tight.
“Let me go!” she screamed.
“Hey. It’s okay. I was just trying to keep you from falling down.” The man let go and took a step back, his hands in the air. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Someone’s chasing me,” she said, her breath ragged. “He’s right behind me.”
The man looked around. “I don’t see anyone.”
Rachel turned and saw he was telling the truth. “He must be hiding behind a tree. He was right behind me!” she insisted.
“I believe you,” he said calmly. “Seeing me here must have scared him off.”
Realizing she didn’t know this man, fear gripped Rachel again. She took a step back. “Who are you?”
“I’m just a guy, visiting a grave,” he said, then smiled.
Rachel studied him a moment, wondering if she could trust him. But his face looked kind, and his smile was friendly. “I’m sorry. Someone really was following me. I feel like I can’t trust anyone.”
The man offered his hand. “Avery Turley. I run the local newspaper and weekly shopper.”
“Turley? Why is that familiar?” Rachel asked, frowning at him.
He shrugged. “There are a lot of us around here. My aunt works at City Hall. Maybe you know her. Gladys?”
Rachel sighed with relief. “Oh. Of course.” She reached out her hand to shake his. “I’m Rachel.”
“Rachel Parnell, right? I’d know you anywhere.”
She sucked in her breath. “Why don’t you seem surprised that I’m alive?”
“Because my aunt already told me about you. In confidence, not so I’d print anything in the paper. She’s a bit out of sorts over you coming back from the dead.”
“Well, I’m a bit out of sorts over being dead,” she quipped.
Avery's face broke out into a big smile, and laughter tumbled from his lips. Rachel joined in. It was a ridiculous situation.
After a moment, Rachel asked, “Who are you visiting?”
Avery’s smile faded. “My mother’s grave. It’s right here.” He pointed to the headstone to his right. A beautiful bouquet of roses lay on it. “She died when I was only eight years old.”
Rachel looked down at the name. Marie Turley. “I’m sorry. Had she been sick?”
A shadow fell over Avery’s face. “No. She was one of the women who were murdered in 1985.”
Her hand flew up to her chest. “Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Thank you. But you don’t have to feel bad. I’ve lived with it for a long time.”
Rachel still felt sad for him. To lose his mother that way had to have been traumatic. Suddenly, she remembered something he’d said. She cocked her head and stared at him. “You said you’d recognize me anywhere. What did you mean by that?”
He grinned. “Don’t you remember me? We went to grade school together. I sat next to you in the first grade.”
Rachel frowned. It was so long ago she really didn’t remember. “Sorry. That was a long time ago.”
“That’s okay. I understand.” He slipped his hands into his pants pockets. He was dressed casually in khakis and a polo shirt. His brown hair was a bit long and was wavy. And he was tall. Tall, lean, and in great shape. Now that she’d taken a better look at him, he was actually quite handsome.
Handsome doesn’t make him any less dangerous, she thought.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he offered. “Just to make sure that creep doesn’t follow you anymore.”
Rachel nodded, and they matched steps down the path toward her car. She glanced around but didn’t see his car. “Aren’t you parked near here?”
He shook his head. “I live close by, so I walked.”
They reached her car, and he watched as she got behind the wheel. “I’m sorry if I scared you when you ran into me. I saw you coming toward me, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall down.”
“Thanks for catching me,” she said.
“Well.”
“Well,” they said in unison.
Both laughed.
“Can I take you to lunch?” Avery asked. “I’d like to hear more about how you ended up alive.”
She chuckled. “Sure. I haven’t eaten yet. Where do you want to meet?”
“There’s a little pub downtown. Do you know the place?” he asked.
“Yeah. I know where it is,” she said.
“I’ll get my car and meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
She nodded and watched as he walked briskly away. In the distance was a neighborhood with large yards and nice homes. She figured that was where he lived. Glancing back toward the cemetery, Rachel wondered who’d been running after her. She hadn’t been hallucinating—she’d been chased. Thank goodness Avery happened to be there.
Rachel started her car and drove toward downtown.
***
Rachel and Avery sat in a booth in the little pub. The place was busy because it was lunchtime, but no one paid attention to them. She ordered a grilled chicken salad, and Avery ordered a patty melt. They sat there in awkward silence a moment after the waiter left until Avery finally spoke up.
“Who do you think followed you in the cemetery? Did anyone know you were going there?”
Rachel shook her head. “No. I’d just left the café after speaking with your Aunt Gladys and decided to go there. I didn’t notice a car following me. But…”
His brows rose. “But what?”
Rachel leaned in closer and spoke quietly. “I could swear someone was parked outside my motel last night, watching me. I don’t know who it was, though. This morning, he was gone.”
“He?” Avery asked.
“I could tell it was a man in the driver’s seat, but that’s all. I wasn’t sure if Jeremy Mitchell had sent someone to watch me. Or maybe it was someone else. I don’t know why anyone would stalk me.”
“Jeremy, huh?” Avery said with distaste. “I wouldn’t put anything past that guy.”
The waiter brought their drinks. Rachel looked curiously at Avery. “Don’t you like Jeremy either?”
“Don’t like him, don’t trust him. Never have.”
“Why?” Rachel asked.
Avery folded his arms and placed them on the table. “Probably for the same reasons you don’t trust him. He hung out with your brother and used to scare young kids. Then, after he sold your brother up the river, pardon the analogy, he continued hanging out with another troublemaker, Archie Talbott. They were the same age in school, and both caused trouble. Cocky jerks. He hasn’t changed in all these years.”
“How did Jeremy become Chief of Police here if he had a bad reputation?” Rachel wanted to know.
The waiter brought their food and left again. Avery picked up a French fry. “Archie Talbott is now the mayor.”
Rachel let this sink in. So, Jeremy had friends in high places—well, high for this small town. She didn’t remember anyone named Archie Talbott from her childhood and had no idea if he was good or bad. But for now, she’d take Avery’s word for it.
They ate in silence for a time. Jeremy walked into the crowded bar, and his gaze went immediately to their table. Both
Rachel and Avery looked up and saw him. Jeremy frowned as if seeing them together made him angry. But he didn’t approach them. He sat at a table, facing away from them.
Rachel had a thought. “I was going to go to the library to read old newspapers about my supposed murder. But maybe you can help speed up the process. Are there any records at your office?”
A smile played on Avery’s lips. “I’ll do one better. I’ll share my file with you.”
“File?”
“We can stop by my office after lunch, and I’ll show you,” he said with a wink.
***
They walked the short distance to his office a few doors down from the pub. A big glass window had the words Casita Daily News painted on it. Inside, two other people were sitting at desks behind computers and mumbled hello to Avery as he and Rachel went to his small office.
Avery shut the door and headed around his desk.
“Does Casita have enough news to print a daily paper?” Rachel asked.
Avery chuckled. “No. Not anymore. In the old days, they’d print articles on who visited who and if a goat got out of its pen. We don’t do that anymore. We publish twice a week and have a shopper every Wednesday.”
“That’s too bad. I’d like to read about how someone’s lost goat was found,” Rachel said, smiling.
“Good news is nice, but it doesn’t sell papers.” Avery unlocked a drawer in his desk and pulled it open. Lifting out a thick folder, he laid it on the desk. “This is everything I’ve found on the murders that happened in 1985, plus the murder of the little girl.”
Rachel stared at the thick folder. “You’ve been researching everything?”
He nodded. “That’s the only reason I came back here and bought this little newspaper. I thought I could move away and start fresh, but I just couldn’t let go of my mother’s murder. I have to learn the truth.”
“Are the police still actively investigating the cases?”
“No. As far as I can tell, Jeremy Mitchell wants these cases closed for good. So does Archie. Everyone thinks Keith was responsible for all the murders because when he went to jail, they stopped. I wanted to believe that too. But I can’t. Someone out there got away with the murders, and I intend to find out who.” Avery slid the folder toward Rachel.
Tentatively, she picked it up, careful not to spill the contents. She set it on her lap and opened it, then glanced through the papers. “Wow. You have so much.” She looked up at him. “Did you learn anything new in all these documents?”
Avery moved around his desk and sat on the front corner, near Rachel. “I read all the police reports on the murders and the one on the little girl. I have the transcripts from your brother’s trial. They don’t all add up. They have a bloody fingerprint from my mother’s murder scene, but no effort has ever been made to find a match. If they compared them to Keith’s, there’s no record of it. It seems to me that if his fingerprints had been found at any of those murder scenes, he would have been tried for them. Honestly, I’m not even sure he killed that little girl. All they had against him were scratches on his face and Jeremy’s testimony that he saw Keith follow her into the woods. That’s it.”
Rachel bit her lip as she looked through the papers. She knew where the scratches had come from, but she didn’t want to say anything to Avery. “Could you make copies of Keith’s trial transcripts for me? I’d like to read them.”
“Sure. I’ll copy everything in there for you. Maybe you’ll see something I haven’t.”
She handed him the folder and stood. “Thanks for sharing this. It’ll save me a lot of time. Should I come by tomorrow and pick it up?”
Avery stood also. “Why don’t we meet for dinner tonight, and I’ll bring it then?” He grinned.
Rachel couldn’t help but smile. His grin was boyish and made him look more handsome than he already was. “Where would you like to meet?”
“I’ll pick you up. Are you staying at your mother’s house?”
She shook her head. “That’s a whole other story. I’m at the motel on the edge of town. Room 117.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Avery walked her out through the offices again and to the front door. “Say?”
She turned. “Yes?”
“I know we just met, but please trust me on this. Watch out for Jeremy. He’s not to be trusted.”
“You’re the second person to tell me that today. Maybe you can elaborate at dinner. See you then.” She left and headed for her car, wondering who in this town she could trust.
Chapter Seven
Rachel went back to her motel room and opened her computer. She’d only been in Casita for two days and had learned so much already. Maybe she was learning more than someone wanted her to, and that was why she was being followed. She couldn’t wait to get the packet of information from Avery and dig through it. Maybe she could figure out how her father misidentified her body. She felt like that might be the key to finding out who the little girl was.
Rachel checked the work schedule she kept on her computer. She had two concepts to finish for book covers by next Monday. Maybe, if she worked a few hours a day, she could complete those on time and not miss out on those jobs. It worried her that she’d be here for a week or more trying to straighten out this mess. But she had to find answers before she left. If she gave up now, she’d wonder for the rest of her life who the dead child was. And whether or not her brother had been falsely imprisoned.
It was late afternoon, and she knew her daughter would be finished with classes for the day. Rachel dialed her number, and Jules answered immediately.
“Hey, Mom. What have you found out?” Jules asked.
The sound of her young voice made Rachel homesick. “You won’t believe the mess I walked into,” she told her. Rachel explained everything she’d learned so far and what she needed to learn before she could leave town.
“Wow! That’s crazy,” Jules said. “You have a chief of police you don’t trust who also testified against your brother. The son of a murdered woman. And a lady who’d served on the jury. Two days and you’ve already gotten in that deep.”
Rachel had omitted the fact that she thought she was being followed. She didn’t want Jules to worry. “Yeah, it’s a mess. But once I look over Avery’s papers, maybe I can unravel some of the facts. And until my DNA test comes back, I can’t look at the evidence, so I’m kind of stuck here for a while.”
“Do you really want to find the answers, Mom?” Jules asked. “What if you don’t like what you learn?”
Rachel had thought of that, too. “I need to know what happened. There’s a mother out there whose daughter never came home. We have to find out who that girl was.”
“I know that’s important,” Jules said. “But what about Aunt Julie? What if you find out she or Uncle Gordon did something terrible in order to take you? We already know that you weren’t legally adopted by them.”
Rachel sat still a moment, thinking. If Julie and Gordon had paid for a false birth certificate, what else would they have done to take her? “I guess if it comes out that they were involved, I’ll have to face it,” she told her daughter. “It won’t be easy. But I need to know the truth.”
“I hope they didn’t do anything wrong,” Jules said. “It’s hard to imagine them doing something horrible. But I wonder why they wanted to take you in the first place. They risked everything by stealing you and using a false birth certificate. None of it makes sense.”
Rachel agreed. She’d been pondering their reasoning too. “Will you go check in on Julie for me this week?” she asked Jules. “I hate not being there for her.”
“I will,” Jules said. “Be careful, Mom. It sounds like you’re digging up a lot of dirt on people in that town. Someone might not like it.”
As Rachel said goodbye, she thought the same thing. Someone definitely didn’t like it already. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been followed—or chased.
Avery knocked on her door precisel
y at seven. She answered and was immediately glad she’d dressed in nice slacks, heels, and a blue cashmere sweater. Avery had worn a sports coat over his dress shirt and black slacks. He also looked freshly shaven. She could smell the light scent of his spicy aftershave.
“You look nice,” he said, his smile showing off movie-star teeth. “I made a reservation at a nice restaurant north of here, closer to Modesto.
Her brows rose. “Why so far away?”
“Hopefully to get away from big ears and prying eyes.” He winked.
“Ah.” She knew exactly what he meant.
He led her to a black SUV and held the door open for her as she stepped in. Rachel liked that. Her husband used to hold doors for her, even after they’d been married a long time. It was the little courtesies that impressed her.
The thick file sat on the seat between them, but Rachel didn’t reach for it. The sun was already going down, so it was too dark to read anything anyway. She couldn’t wait to get back to her motel room and sift through it.
“I see you eyeing the file,” Avery said. “I’m under no delusion that you went out to dinner with me other than to get a copy of it.” He laughed.
Rachel felt her face heat up with embarrassment. “Well, that depends on how good of a dinner companion you are.”
“Touché!” he said. “So, tell me. Since you weren’t dead, where have you been all these years, and what have you been up to? If you don’t mind me prying.”
“I can see why you’re a newspaperman,” she said, laughing. “After I left with Aunt Julie and Uncle Gordon, we moved around a lot until they landed in Tallahassee. I never really thought much of it. I guess I just thought they were looking for the perfect jobs.”
“Ah, but they were running instead, huh?”
She shrugged. “Now that I know more about what happened the day I left, it seems if they had learned about the murder of the little girl and that she was misidentified as me, they would have felt safe. All their moving around tells me they hadn’t known. At least not back then.”
The Truth About Rachel Page 6
