A Reagan Keeter Box Set: Three page-turning thrillers that will leave you wondering who you can trus by Reagan Keeter (best e book reader txt) 📕

van that you saw. Probably. He was at a BP gas station filling up when a rusty blue panel van pulled up to the pump opposite him. He remembered it because something about the driver made him nervous. He couldn’t say what. At any rate, the point is, we’ve got a description. Skinny guy. Forties. Blond hair to his shoulders. It’s not a lot to go on, but it’s something. And I bet, when I call the police, they’ll be able to get a license plate also. I think we might have found your guy. Here’s hoping, anyway. Call me back when you get this, all right?”

Isaiah had never told Connor when the show would air, but that was hardly the most important thing about the message. It wasn’t even the fact that they had a lead they could forward to the NYPD. It was the subject’s description. Skinny. Blond hair to his shoulders. Okay, it wasn’t much of a description, but there was only person Connor knew who matched it.

Austin.

Connor thought back to the shushing gesture he had made while they were watching the news and how it had reminded him of the gesture the kidnapper had made when he’d returned for his phone.

“Everything all right?” Austin asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Connor put the phone back in his pocket. “Nothing important.”

Think. What are you going to do? He tried to keep his expression neutral, keenly aware that Austin was looking at him. Olivia. He should call her, tell her what he’d found out. She might be able to help.

But not here.

Connor excused himself, claiming he needed to use the bathroom. Then, behind the bathroom’s closed door, he scrolled through his call history until he found Olivia’s number and dialed. The call went straight to voicemail. Either her phone was off or the network was jammed up again.

He weighed the idea of leaving a message and decided the bathroom was far enough from the living room to make it worth the risk. Unless Austin was standing right outside the door, there was no way he would hear him. Still, he turned on the water and spoke softly in hopes of drowning out his voice. Better safe than sorry.

He repeated the information Isaiah had left on his voicemail, then added his suspicions about Austin. He also gave her Austin’s address to make sure she could find him quickly if she needed to.

When he finished, he ended the call and considered his remaining options. There was only one way out of the apartment, and that was the front door. He could probably make it if he ran. But that would mean leaving Olin and Dylan behind. Since they didn’t know what Austin had done, they wouldn’t move as fast. And once Austin figured out that Connor knew who he was, what would he do to them?

For now, Connor had only one choice. He returned to the living room, fell back into the armchair like nothing had happened. He could feel his hands shaking, so he kept them in his lap, hoping Austin wouldn’t notice.

Olin and Dylan certainly didn’t seem to.

Connor tried to pay attention to the conversation, figuring the best thing he could do until Oliva showed up was to blend in. Play the role Austin expected him to. But how long would it take for her to get the message, let alone get here?

There was no way he was waiting around until tomorrow. Even though right now nobody thought they could sleep, eventually somebody would say they were tired. Then Austin would pull out the sofa bed and Connor would be expected to retire to his room. And what if he did fall asleep? Would he wake up? And if he did wake up, where would he wake up?

He could feel himself spinning out.

Even if Austin had abducted his parents—because, he reminded himself, that was still an assumption based on fairly weak evidence—he was as safe here tonight as he had been any of the other nights. He needed to stay calm.

Why would Austin abduct his parents, anyway? It didn’t make sense.

“You all right?” Austin asked.

Shit. “Yeah. Just—it’s everything that’s going on, you know.”

That was it. He had to figure out one way or another whether Austin was the kidnapper. But how? If he could just find the Taser or the driving gloves, that would be evidence enough. But he couldn’t just get up and start searching Austin’s apartment. For something like that, he needed Austin out of the way. Asleep, maybe.

Then the answer dawned on him: asleep.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he casually got up.

“How much do you have to pee?” Dylan said.

“I just want to get my laptop. Maybe there’s more online about what happened.”

Everyone seemed to buy the excuse.

In the guest room, he took the bottle of Ambien out of his backpack and transferred a pill from it to his pocket. He told himself not to look over his shoulder, not to draw attention, but he couldn’t help it. Fortunately, much like the bathroom, nobody would be able to see what he was doing unless they had followed him into the hall.

Then he grabbed the laptop and returned to the living room. Once back in his seat, he powered the computer up and made a show of looking for more news. He even made a point of reading several articles out loud when Olin asked if he had found anything.

The articles contained nothing they didn’t already know, which he summed up by saying, “It’s just more of the same,” before closing the laptop and putting it on the floor beside him. “I’m going to get some more coffee. Anyone want some?”

Austin drank a lot of coffee, and Connor was counting on him saying yes. He did.

“I’ll make it,” Connor said, when Austin started to get up.

He went into the kitchen, filled two mugs with water, and put them in the microwave. While he waited, he used the blunt end of a spoon to crush the Ambien on