Kill Switch by S W Vaughn

Author:S W Vaughn [Vaughn, S W]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Preston

The Goble family dinner was in full swing, but Preston’s mind was a million miles away.

Scott Loomis had been a bust. She’d known that even before they’d taken him in, but she still wanted to stick something to him. First-degree assholery, whatever. In the end they left him in holding for the night. He’d have to be released in the morning — they couldn’t hold him any longer.

She didn’t even get to use him as an excuse to miss dinner. So, here she was. Even though she’d barely made it by nine and was exhausted and would pretty much rather be anywhere else but here.

Mostly, she’d come for Bethy. To prove that she was okay.

As always, their father sat at the head of the table, with their mother at the foot. Her and Bethy on one side, David on the other. And as always, Bethy talked a mile a minute about whatever came into her head, David interjected the occasional wry comment, and Mom smiled and nodded while Dad ate in complacent silence.

Preston was the only anomaly tonight. She usually kept up with her sister, but right now she found herself with nothing to say — even though there was so much she wanted to.

“…so awful,” her brain registered Bethy saying, before her sister placed a hand over hers. “Ry and me volunteered to help the Reverend decorate the church. You know, for the services,” she went on. “I just can’t believe it happened again.”

“Bethy, I’m not sure this is an appropriate conversation for the dinner table,” her mother said uncertainly.

Preston barely heard her. She was thinking about the church, about connections. And how Chelsea went to her sister’s church. Which meant that Scott Loomis did as well. She’d never asked him directly which church he attended. “Hey, Bethy,” she said slowly, keeping her tone casual. “Did Lynn Reynolds go to First Baptist, too?”

“Oh, yes,” her sister said sadly. “Her and Scott were going to get married there.” A flash of anger passed over Bethy’s face, and Preston knew she was thinking about what a cheating bastard he’d been. That particular news had spread through town faster than the murders. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” The last thing she wanted was to panic her sister by telling her what she was looking for — a connection between the victims. Scott Loomis was one.

The First Baptist Church of Landstaff Junction was another.

David chose that moment to join in. “So what, you think the killer goes to church?” he said. “It’s always the quiet one, that sort of thing?”

“David!” her mother gasped, at the same time as Bethy clapped a hand to her mouth.

“Maybe he goes to your church, Mom,” her brother said, arching a sarcastic eyebrow. “That place is full of sinners.”

The Presbyterian church was a bone of contention between David and their parents. They all had one. For Bethy it was the stray cat she’d tried to rescue when she was in middle school. She’d kept Mister Tuxedo —

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