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) 📕

When the priest finished, he asked if anyone would like to speak. There were only two people there who were old enough to be Elise’s parents. They stood side by side, barely an inch between them. The man was slumped over and bald, his eyes bloodshot. He was thin everywhere except his stomach, which strained against the buttons of his shirt. The woman was taller than him by a good two inches. Her gray hair was pulled into a bun. With the arch of her eyebrows and high cheekbones, she bore a strong resemblance to Elise.

The woman elbowed the man, who fervently shook his head.

Liam could imagine what they must be feeling. For him, losing Elise was hard, but they’d only been dating for two months. If he lost one of his kids, he’d be shattered.

After the body was lowered into the ground and the priest said his parting prayer, Liam approached the couple. “I’m sorry,” he said as the other mourners closed in around him. He got the feeling they were all related.

“You knew our daughter?” the man asked.

“I did.”

The woman grabbed her husband’s hand. The little bit of blood coloring her pale skin receded. “How did you know her?”

“We were dating.”

All three mourners who’d gathered around Liam were quite a bit younger than Elise’s parents. One of the men was short, with a mess of curly blond hair he’d been unable to tame. The other, whose features were also sharp like Elise’s, was thin and lanky. His face was pitted from acne.

“How long?” the second one asked.

“A couple of months.”

“What do you do?” the man with the curly hair said. It was an odd question, considering the circumstances, and the words were delivered in an equally strange tone. In another situation, Liam would have said the man sounded angry. He might have even gone so far as to say the man seemed to blame him for something. He must be mistaken though. What could he blame Liam for?

“I work in advertising, like Elise.”

“Yeah, right,” Curly Hair said, while at the same time the young woman with them said, “Elise didn’t work in advertising. She didn’t even go to college.”

She had her hands clasped in front of her. An old scar marred her left check, extending nearly all the way from her earlobe to the corner of her mouth. Her dress was fitted at the waist and had satin buttons that ran down from the collar.

That news hit Liam hard. He’d decided the two men were likely Elise’s brothers and the woman her sister. From what he could see of her family, she hadn’t lied about them. But if the woman was right about Elise’s education, and Liam had no reason to doubt her, then she was also probably right about her job. It was unlikely an advertising firm would have hired Elise if she hadn’t gone to college. If that was true, it would mean she hadn’t only been lying to hide her past.

“He’s probably one of the dirtbags she was hanging around with before she disappeared,” the second brother said.

It took a second or more for his words to register. Liam was still thinking about the newest lie, and all the subsequent ones it had spawned: stories about co-workers and campaigns, budgets and timelines. It had all sounded so legit. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean she took off.”

“How long ago was that?”

“She was twenty-two, so”—the curly haired brother mumbled to himself like he was trying to calculate the time—“a while ago.”

The husband pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and first finger. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back tears.

“He blames himself for her running away,” the wife said, cupping one hand around the side of her mouth and speaking in a stage whisper.

Liam looked from one spouse to the other. Maybe, he thought. The only thing he could say for sure was that she blamed him and wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to remind him of that.

“Let’s go home,” the husband snapped.

“I’m sure it’s not your fault,” Liam said. Even to his ears, the sentiment sounded like the cliché it was, but it was all he could come up with on the fly. Somehow, he had to stop Elise’s family from leaving. They had barely started talking and there was so much more he wanted to know.

“Damn right it’s not,” Curly Hair said.

“Please. I would like to talk to you,” Liam pressed as the husband turned and, still holding his wife’s hand, dragged her along with him.

It was clear nothing he could say would stop them. Liam urgently took a business card out of his wallet. “All of you.” He held out the card, offering it to each of the siblings as they passed. “I just want to know more about her. I miss her.” Almost feebly, he added, “I loved her.” That was true no matter what she was lying about.

Elise’s mother turned toward him. She looked Liam up and down before her eyes landed on the business card. She plucked it from between his fingers as her husband jerked her forward a step and said, “Come on.”

As Liam watched them head toward the road, he noticed something out of the corner of his right eye. Reflexively, he turned to look. It was a smudge of a person at the edge of the cemetery. Liam thought it might be Bash. He wondered if the detective was following him. Since there was no reason to chase down the family, he moved toward the observer. As he did, the observer strolled toward the nearest exit.

Liam was too far away to catch up to him on foot (not that he knew what he would do if he did), so he went back to his car and circled the block. He saw nobody besides the family walking along the cemetery’s perimeter. The observer was gone.

Liam Parker

Liam had just enough time