For Mrs. Phil Spector, Life Goes on With Hubby Behind Bars

July 30, 2009— -- In the spring of 2009, a California jury convicted Phil Spector of second degree murder in the 2003 death of Lana Clarkson.

The 40-year-old actress came home with Spector from a club on the Sunset Strip one night and ended up dead, just inside the front door of his mansion, from a single gunshot wound in her mouth.

As Spector began serving a prison sentence of 19 years to life, the famed "Wall of Sound" producer left plenty behind, most notably, an incomparable pop music legacy and a young blond Pennsylvania native named Rachelle, who now dwells in the house where Clarkson died. She is the 29-year-old Mrs. Phil Spector.

Rachelle Spector is the vice president and CFO of Spector's music companies. She oversees a catalog of pop hits that generate a seven-figure yearly income. She also orchestrates Spector's appeals. And she is 40 years younger than her famous husband. While some may snicker at their romance, she proclaims the innocence of her 69-year-old spouse.

"I mean, I feel like I'm on a mission. This is far greater and a bigger challenge than I ever imagined. But it's totally positive, protesting my husband's innocence, restoring his name, honor, legend," she told ABC News' Chris Connelly.

She attended her husband's trial each day, and her advocacy got people's attention, as did the hairstyles she cooked up for her husband, like the frizzy Afro he wore to court one day.

When asked about her husband's mood during the trial, Rachelle said, "Well, it's like going to a hell hole. I mean, they're accusing you of the worst crime possible, and, you know, you're sitting there innocent and nobody wants to believe you."

Now, Rachelle wants the public to believe her.

"It's an unfortunate circumstance and I'm very sad for the family, but I have to be positive and I have to move on. This is our home," she said, standing in the foyer of her home, the spot where Clarkson died.

It sure isn't the home she imagined eight years ago, when at 21, she beat it out of Beaver Falls, Pa., one afternoon, heading for Hollywood. She dreamed of life as a rock singer in leather pants.