All the Beautiful Brides by Rita Herron Read Free Book Online Page B

to search the faces of the girls in the senior class. Granted, her mother could have been younger, in a different grade, but she had to start somewhere.
    Maybe she’d see something familiar in one of their eyes, a similarity to herself at that age, and she’d instantly know.

    Cal phoned Peyton and asked her to check out Gwyneth’s Facebook account, especially the two men who’d suggested meeting her at the bar.
    Then he headed to Mrs. Toyton’s house.
    He parked, noting most of the house lights in the neighborhood were off.
    He doubted Gwyneth’s mother would sleep at all tonight.
    The deputy met him at the front door. “She’s calmed down a little now that her neighbor came over.”
    Cal hated this part of the job, dealing with the families. Questioning them at the worst times of their lives.
    Deputy Kimball led him inside through a small foyer with a side table showcasing various photos of Gwyneth, chronicling her childhood and high school years, including a prom photo.
    Again, no engagement picture.
    He squared his shoulders as he entered the kitchen, where two women sat around a pine table, sipping tea. Even if he hadn’t recognized the mother from the photographs, he would have known her from the swollen, tear-stained eyes; glazed, anguished expression; and the wad of tissues she clenched in her hands.
    Deputy Kimball introduced him to the women.
    “Call me Linnea,” Gwyneth’s mother said in a voice that trembled with grief.
    “Linnea, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Cal said, feeling helpless at the phrase, but compelled to say it anyway.
    “I don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt Gwyneth,” she said brokenly. “The deputy said she was . . . strangled. Why would anyone do that?”
    “I don’t know, ma’am,” Cal said gently. “But that’s what I intend to find out.”
    “She was a good girl,” Linnea blubbered through another round of tears. “She worked hard to get through school, she was on a good path.”
    The other woman rubbed Linnea’s back. “She was, Linnea. Everybody at church knew that.”
    Cal claimed a chair beside her, hesitant, but knowing he had to push forward. This woman was grief stricken, but she would want answers. Would want her daughter’s killer caught.
    And every second that passed counted.
    “I know this is difficult, but anything you can tell me about her, no matter how small or insignificant, might help,” Cal said. “Who was she involved with?”
    Linnea frowned. “You mean, did she have a steady boyfriend?”
    Cal nodded. “We need to talk to everyone she was close to. Boyfriend, fiancé, girlfriends.”
    Linnea’s brows knitted together. “Gwyn wasn’t seriously involved with any man.”
    Cal felt the creeping dread that he was on the wrong track. Her apartment had certainly made him question the engagement. “She wasn’t engaged?”
    “No.” Linnea blew her nose. “Why do you think she was?”
    “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’ll just come out with it. She was wearing a wedding gown when we found her.”
    “What?” Her face blanched. “That’s crazy. My daughter didn’t even have a serious boyfriend.”
    “I’m sorry,” Cal said. “And I will get to the bottom of this. Was she dating anyone in particular? Maybe some man wanted to marry her and she turned him down?”
    “I’m telling you that she wasn’t seeing anyone regularly. She would have told me.”
    Cal gave her a sympathetic look. If Gwyneth had some special guy or had been hooking up with a man, she obviously hadn’t shared that with her mother.
    And if she wasn’t seeing anyone in particular, then the killer could have chosen her randomly.
    Which would make him more difficult to catch. And it made the wedding dress even more bizarre.
    Hell, the unidentified subject—or unsub, as they were called—could be anyone. He could have spotted Gwyneth in a crowd or on campus or in the damn grocery store.
    Which meant he’d strangled her for the simple