A Reagan Keeter Box Set: Three page-turning thrillers that will leave you wondering who you can trus Reagan Keeter (most difficult books to read TXT) 📖

“It’s not my decision to make. Can you get the answers or not?” In truth, Anita didn’t want to hand the investigation over to a stranger, and she didn’t think Liam would want to either.

“Give me a minute.” Ryan got up and disappeared down the hall.

As soon as he was out of sight, Anita worried he was going to call the police. She was tempted to tiptoe down the hall so she could see what he was up to. But she wouldn’t be able to make it back to the sofa if he returned unexpectedly, and he likely wouldn’t take kindly to being spied on. It was better to stay where she was. Ryan seemed sincere when he’d offered to help, and she needed this information.

While she waited, she looked out at the cold waters of Lake Michigan. From here she could see the languid waves crashing onto a beach that was all but entirely deserted this time of year. Elise would have liked this view. Elise would have liked this whole apartment. It was the kind of place she’d talked about living in before she ran way.

I should have done more to help her, Anita thought for the umpteenth time.

Ryan returned, carrying a manila folder. He placed it on the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room and flipped through it until he found what he was looking for. “Elise was housed at the Redwood Penitentiary,” he said. “It’s a private prison just outside the city. Her cellmate was a woman named Julia Santora. She’s still there.”

It hadn’t occurred to Anita—or, she assumed, Liam—that Elise’s cellmate might also have been released.

Ryan removed a piece of paper and returned to the sofa. “Give Liam this.”

“What is it?” Anita asked, taking it from him. Ryan didn’t respond, and once she looked at it, she understood why. The answer was obvious. It was a photocopy of an Illinois ID with Elise’s first name and picture on it. The last name, however, was not Watson. It was Ross.

“I came across it after my last meeting with Liam and Patricia,” he said. “I assume you know Elise had been going under an alias when she was killed.”

Anita didn’t. Liam hadn’t mentioned that to her. But she thought it would be better to pretend she did, so she nodded.

“This was found on her when she was arrested last year. It didn’t seem to be linked to any criminal activity, so the prosecution agreed to drop the charge of possessing it in exchange for a guilty plea, which is why it didn’t show up on her record. While I don’t know if this has anything to do with who killed her, this makes for at least two aliases.”

“What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know. But from my experience, if there were two, there were probably more.”

Anita looked at her sister staring back at her through time. She’d thought she had a pretty good picture of what Elise’s life had been like when Liam told her about the arrests. But after she’d met with Dale, she wasn’t so sure. Now she found herself wondering anew what Elise had gotten herself into.

Christopher Bell

Chris returned from lunch in a bad mood. Emma had been on the phone with him, squawking into his headset while he ate, asking him again how he’d let the thief get away after cornering him at his apartment, and when he was going to get her a new ring, and, since he’d bought the ring because he was going to ask her to marry him, when they were going to start making wedding plans.

Making matters worse, when the elevator doors opened onto the lobby of Ellison Trust, he was accosted by a man wearing a worn-out army jacket and tee shirt who had dyed his hair black and spiked it up like he was a damn teenager. To Chris, he looked poor and dirty.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute? It’s not going to take a lot of time, I promise. I just need to ask you some questions.”

Chris held up a hand to keep the man at bay. He didn’t want Army Jacket getting too close. He could almost feel the grime and disease on the stranger transferring to him merely by their proximity. He looked at the receptionist, accusingly. “What’s this man doing here?”

The receptionist shrugged, her mannequin-like face inscrutable.

“Something bad has happened to someone I care about,” Army Jacket continued. “I think you might have met her once.”

“I’m quite sure I don’t know anybody you know.”

“Her name was Elise. You might have run into her in a bar a while back.”

“I never met anybody by that name. You need to get out of here.”

“Wait.” Army Jacket pulled a cheap TracFone out of his pocket, which surprised Chris only insomuch that this stranger had a phone at all. His thumbs tapped rapidly at the digital display.

Chris turned back to the receptionist. “Can you call—”

“Please. Just one second.” Army Jacket turned the phone around so Chris could see the screen.

The stranger had brought up a Facebook page and zoomed in close on the profile picture. Chris recognized the woman immediately. She’d tried to rob him several years ago. He remembered the incident well. He’d hit her hard, pushed her to the ground. He hadn’t cared that she was a woman. Why should he?

He didn’t let on, though. There was something off about this whole thing, and he didn’t like it. Why would this stranger be here, asking about a long-past and failed con job?

“Call security,” Chris said to the receptionist. “Get this man out of here.” He turned and headed toward his office.

“Do you know her?” the stranger shouted after him.

“I’ve never met her in my life,” Chris lied without looking back.

Liam Parker

Liam wasn’t sure whether Chris was telling the truth. There was something in his eyes, some flicker that might have been recognition, when he saw the picture. But with Chris heading for his office and