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) 📕

window in the back. He was a tall man who looked tall even when seated. He was wearing gray slacks and a blue button-down. His suede jacket was draped over the back of the chair. With him looking down at his phone, Liam could see the bald spot forming on the top of his head and his large nose seemed especially pronounced.

“Can you believe these assholes?” David said, without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Who?”

“The Tribune says next year the mayor’s going to put more meter maids on the street. He thinks it will bring in another four million in revenue. As if the city doesn’t tax us to hell and back already. I take it you’re feeling better?” He was referring to the message Liam had left the night of the murder. He still didn’t know what had happened.

David tucked his phone into his pocket and finally looked across the table at Liam. His face contorted into an expression of surprise. Liam didn’t look like himself. He hadn’t shaved since Thursday, his hair was a mess, and he was wearing a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt, which were well outside his usual attire.

“You’re not sick, are you? What’s going on?”

“It’s Elise.”

“You guys broke up?”

“She’s dead.”

David leaned in, his lanky frame casting a shadow across the table. “Really?”

Liam nodded.

“What happened?”

Before Liam could answer, a waitress came over. “Are you gentlemen ready to order?”

Liam asked for a glass of water. He wasn’t in the mood to eat and alcohol didn’t seem like a good idea right now. David ordered the same burger and beer he always got from The Crown, a medium-rare slab of meat with onions and bacon and a Budweiser on draft.

When the waitress was gone, Liam glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot and told him the story.

“That’s awful,” David said, and, even though it sounded trite, it seemed to Liam perhaps the most honest thing he could say. It was awful. It would always be awful. Even when it hurt less.

The waitress arrived with their drinks. From the look on her face, he thought she might have been eavesdropping, so after she’d left their table for the second time, he made sure to speak softer. “There’s one more thing. After Detective Wyatt was done questioning me, I asked if he thought Elise had been murdered. I just kinda got the feeling he was leaning that way. He said he didn’t know. That sounded a lot to me like a yes.”

David considered this while he sipped from his beer. “If she was, I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“I hope so. I just can’t figure out why anyone would’ve done it. I’ve been running the scene through my head over and over. The place hadn’t been ransacked, so it wasn’t like it was some run-of-the-mill robbery, you know?”

“I get it. Sometimes something like this—it’s hard to understand.”

“Do you think there was something going on? Something I didn’t know about? Detective Wyatt asked if anybody was mad at her. Do you think somebody could’ve been mad enough to kill her?”

David sighed. “I don’t know.”

Liam slumped further into his seat. He was merely asking David the same questions he’d asked himself. He needed to stop thinking about the murder, at least for a while, so he willed the conversation toward work-related matters, and didn’t even mind when David, following his lead, once again pitched his plans for their firm. He wanted to turn ConnectPlus into a full-fledged advertising agency. TV and radio spots, billboards and print ads. “We don’t have to limit ourselves to digital advertising,” David explained. “We could become a one-stop shop for all of our clients.”

It was what he always said when pitching the idea. In response, Liam said what he was always said: “I don’t think that’s something I can deal with right now.”

But this time, it was more true than ever.

Liam Parker

The next day, the department heads crowded into the conference room at ConnectPlus for their regular Monday meeting. Liam took his seat at one end of the table, David took his at the other.

Liam’s secretary popped her head in to ask if anyone would like coffee or water before they got started. After she left, Liam pressed a button and the glass wall that separated the conference room from the rest of the office clouded over.

The meeting was scheduled to last exactly an hour. It never went over and was not to be interrupted. Those were the rules. But not long after they started, while the director of IT was advising the team on a change to release dates, Liam’s secretary opened the door. “Mr. Parker, there’s someone here to see you.”

Annoyed, Liam gestured to the department heads around the table. “I’m not sure now’s the best time, Maggie.”

Maggie blushed, clasped her hands together, and looked down at her shoes. She scurried across the room and whispered in Liam’s ear, “It’s a cop.”

It had to be Bash, Liam figured, renewed sadness clawing at his chest. He could only think of two reasons the detective would have come to his office. Either he’d found the killer or had more questions. (Whichever it was, the mere fact that he was here meant suicide was off the table.) Liam was, of course, hoping for the former. Knowing who had done it and why wouldn’t make her death any less painful, but at least it would take the mystery out of it.

He stood up, trying not to let his emotion show on his face. He straightened out his jacket, buttoning it and pulling the cuffs of his shirt into place. “I won’t be long.”

He followed Maggie to the lobby. Bash was standing in the middle of the room with his back to Liam, facing the windows. He had his hands in his pockets and appeared to be admiring the view. From those floor-to-ceiling windows, he could see clear across the city’s skyline. It was half the reason Liam