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Book online «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) 📖». Author Reagan Keeter



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find out more about the crowd she was hanging out with before she ran away from home. If he could trace her life from then forward, he believed he could find her killer.

But first he needed a new ID, not to mention a new look and name to go with it. He had no idea where this investigation would take him. If he ever had to get into a building like his, he wasn’t going to get past the security desk simply on his charm. These days, he couldn’t even rent a room in a sketchy hotel on only his charm. And since the odds were good he’d make front page news for a while, he couldn’t keep flashing his real ID around town.

Liam didn’t know anything about fake IDs or where to get one. People who could get him something like that didn’t advertise. Well, not anywhere Liam had ever seen.

He thought about the text—U need to disappear—and the call that had come in seconds before he turned off his phone. Both unnerved him, but that message sounded a lot like somebody who could help him get what he was after. Perhaps they wouldn’t seem so strange if he knew who was trying to reach him. He should have answered the call.

Maybe . . .

He double-timed his way down the stairs without finishing the thought.

“What’s the rush?” the guy at the front desk said as Liam ran toward the double doors at the front of the hotel. It had been an hour since he left his car in the lot, and a truck from XF Towing was already there. The driver had hooked up Liam’s Tesla and was sitting in the cab, working the controls that would pull it onto the bed.

Liam banged on his door. “Hey! Hold on!”

Startled, the driver jerked his head up. There was a screech and a hiss and Liam’s car stopped moving. The driver rolled down the window. His thick, unkempt beard hid the collar of his plaid shirt. “I gotta do it, buddy.” He held out a business card. “You can come get it later today.”

“Yeah, I know.” Liam took the card. “I have to get something, okay?”

The driver shook his head. “I don’t know. Not supposed to do that. How do I know it’s your car?”

Liam pulled his keys out of his pocket. He held them up so the driver could see him press the lock button on the fob. The Tesla beeped and its lights flashed.

The driver mulled it over. He nodded toward the back of the truck. “All right, go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Liam scrambled over to the Tesla and grabbed his phone out of the glovebox. “That’s it. I’m done. She’s all yours.”

Without a word, the driver rolled back up his window and started the crank.

Liam found the text and moved to the other end of the parking lot for some privacy.

Liam Parker

“Hello, Liam,” a voice said.

Liam recognized that voice immediately. It was the dealer from Ava’s. “Jacob?” He had so many questions that they tumbled over each other, cutting each down to a word or two, until he landed on, “How did you get my number?” His phone number was unlisted.

“That’s not the question you need to be asking.”

A cold breeze cut through the lot and Liam turned his back to it. “How did you know—”

“About the arrest?” Jacob said. “It doesn’t matter. Now, listen to me. I can help you disappear, but you don’t have a lot of time. Sooner or later, the police are going to find you. There’s a bar downtown called Backstage. Meet me there at nine o’clock.”

“You can get me a fake ID?”

“Bring a thousand dollars in cash and I’ll take care of you.”

It sounded like a lot for what Liam wanted, but he wasn’t in a position to haggle over the price. He glanced around the trash-strewn parking lot in front of the CVS, saw the brake lights on the back of the tow truck flash as the vehicle started to move. “Okay.” Jacob hung up, and Liam glanced down at his cell, staring at it as if it were a foreign object.

The whole thing felt surreal, and he asked himself the same question he’d asked Jacob: How did he know about the arrest? Then he asked himself another: Why is he offering to help? He knew he wasn’t going to get an answer to either question—not at the bar, not even if he called Jacob back and demanded one. Besides, what would it change if he did? He still needed that ID and Jacob was the only person he knew who could get it for him. Maybe, when this was all over, Jacob would fill in these mysterious blanks. For the time being, Liam would have to let them go.

He tried to decide what to do with his phone. The tow truck was gone, so there was no putting it back in his car. That left only one option. Liam reluctantly turned it off and dropped it into the trash can in front of the CVS.

At least my data is backed up, he thought, and went into the pharmacy to buy a TracFone with one hundred prepaid minutes and Internet access. (He’d realized he’d need to stay connected if he wanted to get anything done.) He also bought black hair dye and a pair of sunglasses.

After he withdrew more money from the ATM, he stopped at a More Than Sneakers for Nikes and a Goodwill for clothes.

Liam found a pair of jeans that fit, which was the only requirement he had, and an oversized army jacket. He was flipping through shirts on one of a dozen circular racks, looking for something nondescript and preferably gray, when he ran across a Teenage Mutant Ninja tee similar to the one his son had been wearing, and wondered if he’d ever see Tommy again. If he was arrested before he could prove his innocence, he doubted it. Catherine would take the kids straight to Mississippi, and by the

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