The Truth About Rachel by Deanna Sletten (recommended reading .TXT) 📕

“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