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- Author: Reagan Keeter
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He was right.
When Kim knocked, Adriana answered right away.
From the car, Connor couldn’t hear what the two women said, but the body language told him everything he needed to know. After waving her hands in front of her chest and shaking her head, Adrian finally accepted the money. She looked down at it like she couldn’t believe it was real.
“You did a good thing,” Olin said, who had come along for the drive.
Connor didn’t respond until he saw Adriana hug Kim and close the door. “I’m just glad all this is over.”
Then Kim got back in the car, and Connor saw something he hadn’t seen in a long time. Kim was smiling. It was like a glimpse into a world that used to be and, he now knew, could be again.
It was just a matter of time.
UP NEXT: THE REDWOOD CON
High-rolling illegal gambler Liam Parker finds his girlfriend dead in her apartment, and it’s not long before the police charge him with her murder. Desperate to avoid a lifetime behind bars, Liam’s hunt to clear his name uncovers unexplainable secrets about the woman he thought he knew. And with the police revoking his bail and his freedom under threat, he goes on the run in pursuit of two strangers . . . and their deadly answers.
Readers are calling it “a masterpiece of a twisty book” and said it is “a must-read.”
THE REDWOOD CON
Elise Whitman
Elise charged into her apartment, trying not to think about what she had done tonight. Her Pomeranian followed her to the window, jumping on her leg, yapping to get her attention. She patted the dog on the head. “Not now, Chloe.” Then she pulled her phone out of her purse to see if she had a message from Liam. She didn’t. She cursed herself for not waiting to hear from him before calling the others and sent a text.
I need to see you.
Gripping her phone in one hand, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited.
Elise had only lived in this apartment for three months. It was small, hastily decorated. The quasi-retro furniture from Value Interiors wasn’t her. Still, she’d come to like the place a lot. Part of it was because, at twenty-eight, it was the first apartment she’d ever had in her name. The other part was the location.
From the window, Elise could see the quiet, tree-lined street that ran in front of her building. The old three and four-story condominium buildings lining most of it were charming. The neighbors were friendly, and she could walk to a grocery store and a coffee shop.
She hoped that after tonight she wouldn’t have to leave. She hoped that by being honest with Liam her life would become something new and better than it was now. But if he didn’t take the news well, she knew she’d have no choice. She’d pack up the things she could as soon as everyone was gone and disappear.
She looked at her phone again. Still no response. It had only been a minute, but she didn’t have time to wait, so she sent two more messages, back to back.
I’m serious.
I need you to come over right now.
Then Elise got a bottle of Smirnoff from the kitchen to calm her nerves. She didn’t have any glasses, so she filled a mug to the brim, took one big gulp. She placed the mug on the coffee table and paced the room, rehearsing what she was going to say. She’d only get one shot at this. She’d better make it count.
And, of course, she looked at her phone again.
Come on, seriously?
What was taking so long?
She sent another text to Liam: Why don’t you answer me?
Finally, she got a response: I’m on my way. We need to talk.
Although Elise could tell she’d gotten under his skin, she didn’t care. What mattered was he was coming over. After tonight, the last thing he’d be thinking about was those messages.
She returned to the window. If she craned her neck, she could almost see the entrance to her building. She thought it would be a good idea to keep a lookout, know who showed up first. But her mind wandered, back to what she would say and how she would say it—“Liam, you’re in danger”—and when someone knocked on the door, sending Chloe into a tizzy, she had no idea who it was. Since she was expecting company, she didn’t bother to check the peephole. She just tossed her phone onto the coffee table and turned the deadbolt.
Liam Parker
Liam sat at the lone poker table in Midwest Design’s private room. The space was small but elegant, with polished hardwood floors and walls made of smooth brown tile. A combination of inset lighting and modern, ornate sconces cast the space in a warm glow. The only way in or out was through a door that opened onto the company’s darkened public spaces.
At this hour, there were very few people in the building. The doors to the street were locked. A lone security guard manned the lobby nine floors below.
The night had started with six players. The two who remained at the table with Liam were Emily Stewart, a regular, and a new guy he had taken to calling “the Grunter.” Their dealer, according to the nametag pinned to his tuxedo vest, was Jacob.
Emily had stately features and short, black hair plastered to her head with large quantities of gel. Having already folded, she could do nothing with the jack that appeared on the river but scowl at it. Liam wasn’t sure if that look meant the card would’ve helped her or hurt her—his guess was the former—although it didn’t matter either way. Once you’re out, you’re out.
Now he had to convince the Grunter to do the same. With a pair of twos, bluffing his way through this hand
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