Chapter 20
TWENTY
Talking to Linc about my birth mother’s death—if it was her—has made me more determined to discover the truth.
I go to my room and consider my options.
It will take too long to go through legal procedure to get the information I require.
I bring up the copies of the newspaper reports on the incident and make a note of the two reporters who wrote the stories.
One I’ve met and we even went to dinner a few times to discuss our work.
I search for his contact details but the last number I had for him was on my old phone.
Having columns in various tabloids and being a bestselling author has its advantages when bypassing the newsroom to talk to journalists.
I strike it lucky and my name gets me put through to the desk of Peter Kite.
I ask him about the case he followed and cross my fingers, hoping he has more information.
“Yeah, the crime is unsolved.” Peter taps away at his keyboard.
“Let me see. The victim was Rachel Stackhouse, out of Tallahassee. I spoke to her sister, Susan Bright. She claimed her body. Nice lady. She told me Rachel was never the same after being raped. It’s a sad story.
Is it something you’re thinking of writing about? ”
The information shocks me, and I swallow hard. “Maybe. Do you still have the contact details for Susan? I’d like to talk to her. I’ll give you my email address.”
“Yeah.” He taps away again. “There you go. If you need any more info, just call.”
I’m shaking all over but try to keep my voice calm. “Thanks, I’ll add you to the acknowledgments if I get to write a novel.”
“Thanks. It was great connecting again. Maybe we can have dinner again soon?” He chuckles. “Unless you’re married?”
I smile. “That would be nice. When I’m back in New York, I’ll call you.” I disconnect.
The email icon flashes and I open it and stare at the information.
Realization comes as a shock, more potent than I’d anticipated.
The email confirms my mother was the “Black Valentine” murder victim as I’d suspected but knowing doesn’t make it any easier.
I need to find out more. I pick up my phone and thumb in the number he supplied.
A woman answers right away, so I get to the chase.
“Ms. Bright? My name is Alani Fairchild. I believe I’m Rachel’s daughter.
I was adopted at birth and my search for her led me to you. Do you mind talking to me about her?”
“Oh, my.” Excitement comes through the phone from Susan.
“Yes. I’ve always wondered what happened to you.
Rachel told me about the night she had you—the hurricane and all about the bat shit crazy woman in the next bed, telling all that could hear that she was this famous actress.
As if— I guess you’d like to know everything surrounding your birth? ”
I doubt she has anything to tell me I haven’t already heard, since speaking to Barnes. “I’d rather know what exactly happened the night she died? I can’t find any information. Do you know why she was at the motel?”
“I do but it’s not something I can risk talking about over the phone. You never know who is listening.” The alarm in Ms. Bright’s voice surprises me. “Come by and I’ll tell you.”
My neck prickles as I write down her details and repeat them back to her. “Why can’t you talk to me about it over the phone?”
“She told me a secret I was never to divulge unless something happened to her and you showed one day.” Ms. Bright sounds frightened. “I’ll need to explain to you in person.”
I need more information. “A secret? What kind of secret?”
“Please come… I’m sorry but just telling you that there is a secret is dangerous. Powerful people are involved, Alani.” Ms. Bright clears her throat. “I’ll explain everything when you come by. I’m home tomorrow. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
I sigh. “That would be fine. Maybe around lunchtime?”
“I’ll see you then. Don’t tell anyone you’re coming. It’s safer that way.” She disconnects.
I stare at the wall in an effort to get my thoughts into line.
Coincidences happen and maybe it was a fluke that Linc wrote his lyrics about a suicide and a deranged fan murdering Rachel.
My inquiring mind won’t give up and I look for a twist. What if someone planned the crime scene as a massive publicity stunt that went tragically wrong?
Maybe no one was meant to die but things got out of hand?
I push my fingers through my hair, rest my elbows on the desk and try to think.
Who had a reason to kill Rachel? The only person that comes to mind is Barnes—he hated the one that got away and testified against him.
He boasted about his son following in his footsteps.
Maybe my half-brother murdered my mother?
I hear a noise outside in the hallway and through the open doorway I see a shadow move. I go to the door and find Linc walking away. “Did you want to speak to me?”
“Oh, no. I’m looking for Mia. I heard you talking and thought she was here.” Linc gives me a smile. “She’s probably in the sauna. I’m sorry to disturb you, I can see you’re busy working.” He heads toward the stairs.
I stare at his retreating back. Has he been eavesdropping? I don’t know if my room is wired for sound. Mia mentioned the hidden CCTV camera. From now on, I should make my phone calls away from the house. I am beginning to think I can’t trust this crazy family.