The Truth About Rachel by Deanna Sletten (free books to read .TXT) 📗

police officer. The police were keeping out anyone who didn’t belong there—especially the press.

Avery parked on the road near the grave behind the police and county cars and trucks. A long, black hearse sat in the line, awaiting the casket. A big tent had been set up over the grave for privacy. Jeremy waved to them, and they walked to the edge of the tent to greet him.

The three stood in reverent silence as the machinery slowly dug up the site. Overhead, they heard the whirling blades of helicopters as the news stations tried to get close-up footage of what was happening under the tent. Rachel cringed. She hated the thought of this little girl’s grave being disturbed to begin with, but to have the press try to get photos and film of it was disgusting.

Her thoughts went to the little girl who had died so horrifically and to the parents who would finally learn what had become of their child. Tears filled her eyes. This was what Rachel had wanted, but it still wouldn’t be easy to identify the girl and tell the parents. She may not have been the one to die that day, but an innocent life had been taken, and it broke her heart just thinking about it.

By the time the diggers found the coffin, Rachel had decided she couldn’t stay any longer. She nudged Avery, and he nodded.

Jeremy escorted them to their car just in case any reporters had snuck into the cemetery. They were relieved that none had.

“The coroner will examine the body as soon as they bring it there. He’s been asked to get some sort of identification by Monday,” Jeremy told them. “I can’t imagine how he’ll do it so fast. And it’ll be hard to learn her identity, considering we had no missing children from that time.”

“Any information will help,” Rachel said. “Someone must know something. Now that people know that I’m not in the grave, then they might share what they know.”

“You’re not going to like this,” Jeremy said to Rachel, “but your mother called me this morning and told me—not asked me—to tell you to stop at the house after the exhumation.”

“Why?” Rachel’s heart quickened just thinking of facing the woman she’d thought was her mother.

Jeremy shrugged. “I didn’t ask. I’m just the messenger.” He waved as he walked away. “See you on Monday.”

Rachel got into the car and grimaced at Avery. “My mother. I’m not sure I can stand to face her.”

He placed his hand over hers. “I’ll take you. If she does anything to upset you, we’re out of there.”

They drove the short distance to Rachel’s old house and parked in the cracked cement driveway. Out of habit, Rachel walked to the side door that opened into the kitchen with Avery right behind her. He had his hand lightly touching the small of her back, just enough to help her feel brave enough to knock.

It didn’t take long before her mother swung open the door and glared at her. “Get in here,” she said. “We need to talk.”

Swallowing hard, Rachel followed her inside.

Chapter Fourteen

The house hadn’t changed much from when Rachel was a little girl. She followed Judith as the older woman walked slowly with the cane she’d swung at her the day before. The kitchen was tired looking, although a couple of appliances had been replaced by newer ones. The living room still had the same burgundy carpet and floral sofa and loveseat. The old television had been swapped out for a large flatscreen one, and her father’s recliner still sat in the corner.

Judith went to the sofa and sat heavily. That left the loveseat for Avery and Rachel. They sat as Rachel glanced around. One thing she had noticed was there wasn’t an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the end table.

“You’ve stopped smoking,” she said, looking up at Judith.

“Yeah. I did years ago. They were too expensive, and I was told they’d kill me. I still miss them, though,” Judith said.

Rachel was sure she did miss them. They’d practically been an extension of her.

“I didn’t ask you to come here to make small talk,” Judith said gruffly. “I want to know what happened. Where did you end up if that wasn’t you in that grave?”

Rachel wasn’t surprised by her mother’s bluntness. She noticed Avery frowning and knew he thought her mother was rude. Rachel was sure Avery’s mother would have hugged him and been thankful he was alive. Her mother, though, couldn’t have cared less that she was still alive. Rachel had learned to put on a tough persona as a child when she’d lived with this family, and that hard shell fell over her easily to protect her now.

“This is just between us,” she told Judith. “I don’t want the press to know any of this.”

Judith’s forehead creased a moment before she finally nodded. “Okay.”

Rachel took a calming breath. “Julie and Gordon took me away the same day the girl was murdered. They told me you’d allowed them to have custody, and they’d even found a way to have a new birth certificate made. So, I grew up with them as my parents.”

Judith sneered. “That’s what I thought must have happened. How convenient for them that a little girl was murdered that day and your father identified her as you.”

“They had nothing to do with the girl’s murder. It was a coincidence. In fact, we moved several times, and I realize now that was because they were fearful someone was looking for me and would find us. I’m sure they had no idea what had happened here that day.”

“You’re sure, huh?” Judith puckered her lips, and deep lines formed. “How can you be so sure?”

Rachel’s anger rose, and her voice grew tight. “Because they weren’t terrible people. They would never have hurt anyone, and if they’d known about the dead girl, they would have come forward and told the truth.”

Judith snorted. “Right. And risk exposing themselves as child snatchers?