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little newspaper in Casita was up for sale, I bought it. I figured the best way to find out answers was to be involved in the day-to-day lives of the townspeople.”

“How long ago was that?”

“A few months ago. So far, all I’ve done is create a big file. But I’ll work on it until I find answers,” Avery said, sounding determined.

Rachel toyed with the stem of her wine glass. “And you’ve never married? No children?”

He shook his head. “Never found the right person. What about you?”

“I did find the right person, but he died a few years ago. Carter’s job required him to be on the road a lot. His car was hit by a semi-truck, and he was killed instantly.”

“I’m sorry,” Avery said, grimacing. “Did you have children?”

She smiled. “Yes. I have a daughter in her second year of college. It’s just her and me now.”

“That’s nice. I wish I’d had kids. It’s an experience I would have enjoyed.”

Their food came, and they began eating. Their conversation turned to lighter topics, like traveling, places they’d like to visit, and things they enjoyed other than work.

“Basically, my work was my hobby,” Rachel said. “I worked for a small promotional firm but hated the long hours. I love reading. When I saw indie publishing flourishing, and people were always looking for cover designers, I jumped right in. There was a learning curve, of course, but I learned the ropes and soon had a handful of clients. Now, I do some marketing for businesses, but I make most of my money working for publishers and authors.”

“Wow. That’s amazing,” Avery said, his eyes lighting up. “You found a niche and went for it. Good for you.”

“Says the guy with his own newspaper,” she said, grinning.

“I bought my business. You created yours. I think that’s great.”

“Thank you.”

“What about your aunt and uncle? Are they still in your life?” Avery asked.

Rachel’s smile faded. “Uncle Gordon passed away a few years ago. He had a massive heart attack. My aunt tried being strong, but she faded fast. She has Alzheimer’s. She lived with us for two years, but I couldn’t care for her on my own any longer. She’s in a memory care center just outside of Tallahassee.”

“I’m sorry,” Avery said. “I guess asking her outright about what happened all those years ago is out of the question.”

Rachel nodded. “She gets upset easily, especially when I bring up the past. She still wants it to be a secret. I’m not sure it would be good for her to talk about it.”

“That puts you in a tough spot,” Avery said sympathetically.

“Yes, it does. But I’m committed to finding the truth.”

He grinned. “Me, too. Maybe we can find the truth together.”

Avery paid the bill, and they left in his SUV.

“Thank you for dinner,” Rachel said. “It was a nice reprieve. And for sharing this file with me. I can’t wait to dig into it.”

“You’re welcome.”

He pulled up in the space beside her rental car in front of the motel.

“It’s weird,” Rachel said. “I’ve only been in town for two days and I feel like I’ve covered a lot of ground already. If only my DNA test would come back quickly, then I could look through the evidence box. I think the key to understanding why my father identified me as the dead girl is in that box.”

Avery’s brows rose. “There must be a way to go around Jeremy so you can look at the evidence. I’ll do some digging and ask my Aunt Gladys to dig around too, to see if we can get that done.”

They stepped out of the car, and Avery walked Rachel to her door. She studied him a moment. “Why are you helping me? You don’t even know for sure I’m who I say I am.”

“Like I said when I met you—I’d know you anywhere. Not to sound creepy or anything, but even as a kid in the second grade, I liked you. I mean, you were so pretty with your long, dark hair and thick eyelashes, it was hard not to notice you. And you were nice. Kind. I remember how you’d stand up for any kid that was being picked on. You made a huge impression on me.”

Rachel broke out in a big smile. “Wow. I didn’t realize I was that interesting. I appreciate you helping me.”

He nodded. “I’m happy to do it.”

They stood by the door a moment in awkward silence. Rachel liked Avery. He was kind and helpful, and he seemed sincere. It had been a long time since she’d spent time alone with a nice, handsome man.

“Well,” Avery said. He turned and glanced around. “I don’t see any strange cars hanging around here tonight. It looks like your stalker is off for the night.”

“Or maybe I imagined it. Thanks for tonight. It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was. Happy reading.” He pointed to the folder.

She laughed. “Actually, I will enjoy going through this. Maybe I’ll run into you tomorrow or something.”

He nodded, tipped his head, and headed to his car.

Rachel hurried into her room, locking the door behind her. Despite her reason for being here, she couldn’t help but smile to herself over her evening with Avery.

Chapter Eight

Rachel stayed up half the night looking through the folder of papers Avery had given her. Although the cases of the murdered women were interesting, there wasn’t any evidence to point directly to Keith. The case files of his trial, though, were intriguing. But still, other than Jeremy’s testimony placing Keith at the scene of the crime and the scratches on his face, there was nothing concrete to convict Keith of the little girl’s murder. So why had the jury been so quick to send him to prison at the age of sixteen?

Rachel wondered why her brother’s lawyer hadn’t explained about the scratches on Keith’s face. Both Keith and her father knew that Rachel had scratched him that day. Maybe it would have been too damning to admit his sister

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