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) 📕

him up so they could talk, then reconsidered. Even if she said no, he wasn’t going to go away. This was too important. Liam needed to speak to Ashley face to face, right from the very beginning. She needed to see him as he was now—in a pressed blue button-down and a black overcoat, his hair styled and his clothes blood-free.

Liam buzzed other apartments at random until somebody let him in. He took the elevator to the fourth floor, rising slowly in fits and starts as it always did, and navigated the ugly yellow halls back to Elise’s apartment. He half-expected to see police tape strung across her door, but there wasn’t any. In fact, there was no indication at all that something horrible had happened there.

Liam looked at the doors of the two closest apartments. These were the ones he’d knocked on looking for help. Ashley had to be behind one of them. Guessing which one seemed like a coin toss.

While there was probably no harm in knocking on the wrong door, Liam didn’t like being here. He wanted to get in and out as fast as possible. He studied the doors, looking for clues, not expecting to find any. Then he did. Elise’s apartment was on a corner. One door was across the hall from hers and farther from the elevator. The other was along the perpendicular hallway he had to travel to reach Elise’s apartment, and the last anyone would encounter before doing so. With an eye to the peephole or the door open, that resident would be able to see anybody who visited Elise.

That had to be it.

Liam knocked and waited and knocked again. It was still pretty early on Saturday morning. He hoped Ashley hadn’t spent that night at a boyfriend’s or gone out for an early breakfast.

Finally, a woman’s voice said, “Go away.”

Liam was afraid she might say something like that. Still, he persisted. “Ashley Carlson?”

“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I saw the article in the Tribune. I won’t take up much of your time. I just wanted you to hear my side of the story. I wanted you to know what happened. Please open the door.”

Silence followed. Liam heard the deadbolt turn, and the door cracked open a couple of inches. The security chain was still in place.

Ashley looked as if she had just woken up. She was wearing a pink bathrobe over a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. Behind her, clothes and magazines were scattered about the floor. She held up her cell phone so Liam could see she’d already pressed the numbers 911. “You try anything, and I’ll hit Send.”

Liam took a step back, held out his hands. “No, no. I promise. I only want to talk to you.”

Ashley raised her eyebrows as if to say Get on with it.

“I didn’t kill Elise. She was already dead when I got here. I tried to pull her out of the bathtub, but I couldn’t. That’s how I got her blood on me. When I knocked on your apartment door, I was looking for help. I had left my phone in the car. I was going to ask you to call the police. I’m not sure what you . . .” He was going to say “thought I was doing,” but of course, he already knew. The article had made it crystal clear, hadn’t it? Elise had been killed only minutes before Liam had arrived. Ashley had said she heard a lot of noise coming from next door. At the time, her mind wouldn’t have jumped straight to murder. But when a stranger showed up covered in blood, knocking on her door, demanding she open up, could she be blamed for thinking he was a madman on a killing spree or a killer seeking out witnesses?

“I did call the police,” Ashley snapped.

Later, Liam would realize that was why they had arrived so soon after he had called them.

Right now, though, all Liam could think was that he’d made a mistake. He shouldn’t have come here. Ashley was never going to change her mind. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to make a quick exit. “I know this has been hard on you. I wanted you to know what happened, that’s all. I won’t bother you again.”

Liam turned around and, before he made even one step down the hall, he heard the door slam and deadbolt lock.

He dropped his head and sighed. He was starting to understand why the police thought he was guilty. The text messages pointed to motive. The means and opportunity were both easy enough to establish. As for timing, if his cell phone records alone didn’t tie that up, Ashley’s testimony would.

He didn't know what Patricia had planned for his defense, but it better be good.

The Tall Man

The Tall Man followed Liam to Elise’s building at a safe distance, always keeping at least one car between them. He watched Liam enter the lobby from inside his car. He checked the digital display above the elevator to see which floor Liam had gone to. He scouted the hallways of the fourth floor. Slow and silent. He peered around a corner and saw Liam standing in front of a door, knocking. He pressed his back flat to the wall and listened.

A muffed voice spoke from the behind the door. The Tall Man couldn’t make out the words.

“Ashley Carlson?” Liam said.

Another muffled response. Eventually, Ashley opened the door. He listened to the exchange and was pleased with how it went. When Liam apologized, signaling the end of the conversation, the Tall Man returned the way he had come, hiding in another hallway until Liam left. Then he, too, stopped by Ashley’s apartment and knocked.

“I’m done talking to you!” she shouted. “If you don’t go away, I really will call the police. You hear me?”

“He’s gone.”

The Tall Man saw the peephole darken as Ashley looked through it. He heard the rattle of the security chain, the click of the deadbolt.

She cracked the