Page 73 of Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

The banging stopped, and seconds later, Rachel appeared at the threshold, clearly irritated. “I thought we took care of our business this morning.”

“Actually,” I said, “we’re not quite done.”

“We just had a chat with Tim McCree,” Dixie said. “After we started asking a lot of questions about Chuck Petty, he said that if we wanted answers, we needed to talk to you.”

She stiffened, then crossed her arms over her chest. “Tim?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dixie said. “He was pretty insistent that you could help us.”

Rachel was quick to refute Tim’s claim with an aggressive shake of her head. “I’ve got nothin’ to tell you. Everything I had to say was already said to the sheriff back on the awful day Bethany was found.”

“Maybe you could tell us anyway,” I said. “A lot gets lost in a police report.”

“I don’t see the point,” she said, lifting her chin. “There’s no changing what happened. Bethany’s still dead. She’s not gonna come back to life, so y’all need to leave. Now.”

I had hoped to buy us a little more time before I played the Magnolia card. “Miss Rachel, we’re not here to cause trouble. We only want to find answers for our client. I know you were close to Lila, and I know you care about her daughter, Magnolia. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be keeping track of her.”

She pinned me with a dark glare. “Who said I was keeping track of her?”

“You knew about the podcast episodes,” Dixie said gently. “Mo and Molly.”

“What about that makes you think I’ve been keeping track of her?” she challenged. “Maybe I just heard about it.”

Dixie propped her hands on her hips. “Because if you were a regular listener of their podcasts, you would have known that they’d done a few episodes on Summer.”

Rachel started to say something, then stopped. She took a breath. “Maybe I just happened to stumble upon it.”

“Maybe you did,” I said. “It’s not out of the question given everybody in Sweet Briar has been overfocused on her for the last six months, so maybe you heard about it in town. But I don’t think so. I think you’re keeping an eye on her.” On a hunch, I added, “And part of you was doing it for her mother.”

“For hermother?” Rachel released a bitter laugh. “I haven’t talked to Lila in years, and now she’s dead. I never even met Magnolia, so why would I be keepin’ an eye on her?”

I gave her a sympathetic look. “Because you still love Lila.”

Her mouth dropped open, and I could see the thoughts spinning in her head as she sorted through possible answers. “What did you say?”

“Because you love Lila,” I said. It was a risk pushing this narrative, and it had the huge potential to backfire, but I suspected Belinda might be onto something. “There’s no shame in it. But I know it was frowned upon back then. I understand why you’d have wanted to keep it a secret.”

She lifted her hand to her forehead and pushed her hair back, glancing to the side with a panicked look.

“Rachel,” I said, “we’re not here to cause trouble. I promise you that. We’re only here to find answers.”

“For your client,” she said hatefully. “How do I know your client isn’tPeople Magazinetryin’ to do an exposé on Magnolia Steele’s mother?”

“Because,” I said, “our client is Magnolia Steele herself.”

Rachel’s hand dropped to her side and her face went blank. “Say what?”

“Magnolia Steele is our client,” I said softly. “She’s hired us to find out why her mother left Sweet Briar. To the best of Magnolia’s knowledge, Lila never came back to her hometown, and she rarely talked about her life here. Magnolia had no idea her mother owned her grandparents’ farm until she received a letter from a Sweet Briar attorney telling her that the land transferred to her after Lila’s death.”

Rachel’s piercing gaze swung from me to Dixie, as though seeking verification I was telling the truth.

“The attorney has a buyer for the land,” Dixie said. “But Magnolia wanted to see the property for herself. That was how she found out she had an aunt. Her mother never told her.”

Alarm widened Rachel’s eyes. “She can’t sell that land. Lila said the land would stay in her family for generations.”

“What does it matter?” Dixie asked. “Why can’t she sell it?”

“She just can’t.”

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