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) 📖

just the same sort of uppity BS I got from Elise about changing her life and I didn’t need any more of that than I had to put up with already.”

Everything Anita had learned about Elise’s life since leaving home had sounded bleak. This was different. Anita couldn’t quite say how it made her feel. Proud wasn’t the right word. But it was something akin to that, because it meant Elise hadn’t entirely given in to her worst impulses. Maybe the good part of Elise, the part that had felt guilty for framing her brother all those years ago, had finally begun to win out.

But if that was what she wanted, why didn’t Elise come home when she was released? Why didn’t she let her family help her?

Elise could be so stubborn.

“Do you know who the letters were from?” Anita asked.

Julia pushed her greasy hair from one side of her head to the other. “Think her name was Kate.”

“There wasn’t anything in them that made you think Kate had a problem with Elise?”

“Didn’t seem like it. In one of those letters, she even offered Elise a job when she got out. Why do you keep asking if someone had a problem with her? Did something happen?”

“I’m not sure,” Anita said.

“She’s missing?”

Anita didn’t answer.

“Well, I’ll tell you this. I didn’t see no problem between them in those letters. But they wasn’t right to me. Some stranger writing you in jail and offering you a job? This ain’t Disney World.”

No, it certainly was not.

These letters sounded like something Anita would need to find out more about if she could. For now, she thought it was best to focus on the things Julia might be able to help her with. “What did she tell you about her life? Did she mention any names? Tell you about anybody she was hanging around with before she was arrested?”

“Not much. There was this one guy she mentioned a couple times.”

“What’d she say about him?”

“She told me they’d been working together. She said they mostly hit the tourist areas over by the lake.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?” Julia shook her head. “You don’t know very much about your sister. She said they did all kinds of stuff, but what worked best for them was a variation of The Ring. She didn’t tell me much about the specifics, though.”

Anita didn’t need the specifics to know that sounded like a con. She wondered if there might be a connection between it and the fake ID. She pulled the piece of paper Ryan had given her out of her pocket, unfolded it, and held it up to the glass. “Do you know anything about this?”

Julia leaned in, squinting so she could read it. Then her eyes widened and she smiled, showing all her teeth. “He does good work.”

“Who?”

“This guy. Think she said his name was Hawk or Hank. I’m not sure. Said he runs a studio called Clix. Mostly does family portraits. You know, baby pictures and crap like that. But she told me if I ever need a fake ID, he’s the guy to go to. I thought it was more BS.” She leaned in to take another look at the ID. “I guess not this time.”

Anita put the piece of paper back in her pocket. “So what else can you tell me?”

“I’ll tell you how The Ring works for another hundred bucks.”

“Do you know how it worked?”

“I know how the original version works.”

Anita hung up the phone. She’d let Julia think she was running the show for long enough. Talking about things that didn’t directly relate to Elise’s life was pointless. Besides, armed with the name Clix, she had everything she needed. She could feel it.

As she got up, Julia banged on the glass. She looked annoyed. Don’t forget the money, she mouthed.

Anita thought about nodding, assuring Julia she’d follow through on her end of the deal. But why lie?

Anita waved goodbye.

Julia flipped her the bird and pounded on the glass harder.

Jacob Reed

Jacob sat in his rented Ford Focus outside Aubury High. The bell would ring any minute and teenagers would come barreling through the double doors in front. He’d seen Alice in pictures online, but with hundreds of kids pushing through those doors at the same time, he might miss her if he wasn’t alert.

Alice exited the building wearing a blue-and-red flannel shirt Jacob recognized from an Instagram photo and a large pair of sunglasses. She was in lockstep with a friend, a blonde who was shorter than Alice and clutched a pair of books to her chest as if they could shield her from the world.

The girls headed toward a parking lot off the side of the building. Jacob eased the Ford around the corner so as not to lose sight of them. They got into a white Volvo that looked new. Alice’s friend took the driver’s seat.

He followed the girls from the school to a McDonald’s, where they met with other students. Jacob parked on the other side of the restaurant. He ordered McNuggets and a Coke, and sat with his back to their booth. He was far enough away that he didn’t draw attention but close enough to hear most of their conversation. They talked a lot about boys and teachers. Nauseating teenage stuff. Alice mentioned the Fresh Sync concert tonight.

Jacob knew she was going from her posts online. There must have been a dozen or more across Facebook and Twitter, most of them linking to videos of the band’s hit songs, full of emojis and exclamation points.

Fresh Sync was a pop band Jacob didn’t care for. He was all about the classics. Pink Floyd. The Beatles. Queen. Real music. But he knew enough about the band even before perusing Alice’s posts to name some of their hits (and, like he had at the bank, sing some of their lyrics). It was hard to turn on the radio these days without hearing something by the quartet.

Alice was sometimes quiet