A Reagan Keeter Box Set: Three page-turning thrillers that will leave you wondering who you can trust

by Reagan Keeter

  His son answered. Liam asked how school was going and Tommy said fine. Yes, he was keeping up with his homework. Yes, he was paying attention in class. “Our teacher taught us how storms are made. Do you know?” Liam said he did, and Tommy told him anyway.

  When they were done, Liam told Tommy he loved him and asked to speak to his sister. Alice answered each question with as few words as possible and a distracted tone. She sounded like she had something else on her mind. Eventually, Liam found out what it was.

  “Dad, what’s going on? Did you . . . Why are you accused of . . . ?”

  He knew what she was trying to say and did his best to put her mind at ease. “They got me mixed up with someone else. Don’t worry about it. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  The answer didn’t satisfy Alice. She pressed for more details, which Liam refused to give. But he did give her the number to the phone he was using, having decided at least one of his kids should have it in case there was an emergency.

  As he was getting out the word “emergency,” Catherine took the phone from her daughter.

  “What the hell have you gotten yourself mixed up in?” she asked.

  He tried to answer, to calm her down, but she barely let him get out two words before she was tearing into him again.

  “I don’t want to hear it. I wish I’d never met you. I can’t wait to get the kids as far from you as possible. You’re a hot mess.”

  Catherine hung up. Liam dropped the phone onto the desk. Well, that didn’t go the way he’d hoped it would. At least he’d gotten to tell Tommy he loved him. For now, that would have to be enough.

  It was time to call Anita. But, he realized Anita’s number was, along with his iPhone, in the CVS trashcan, so he logged into Facebook using his burner, searched for her name, and scrolled through a long list of results until he found one with a photo that matched the woman he was looking for. Liam sent a friend request and a message asking if she would be available to meet at the diner tomorrow morning.

  After a moment of deliberation, he added: I’m going to find Elise’s killer. I need your help.

  He hoped the addition would generate a quick response, but none came.

  While Liam waited, he took a shower and ordered a burger from room service. Even with his new look, he wasn’t interested in being out in public more than necessary. He ate his dinner in front of the TV, then, still without an answer from Anita, reluctantly went to bed.

  Liam stared at the ceiling for a long time. He wasn’t sure what he would do if she never responded.

  Liam Parker

  Liam saw a Facebook message from Anita when he woke up saying she would meet him at the diner at eleven. He checked the digital clock on the bedside table. That was two hours from now.

  I’ll be there, he responded.

  He took the same booth he’d sat at before and ordered coffee to keep the waitress at bay. He watched the window. Anita’s VW was easy to spot. The missing headlight was not the only thing wrong with it. The car was tan, but the rear door on the driver’s side was blue, suggesting it had been a junkyard replacement. Two hubcaps were missing and one of the mirrors was cracked.

  She drove into the lot, taking the corner a little too fast, popping one wheel up and over the curb, and parked by the door.

  Liam went out to the parking lot to meet her. He wasn’t sure Anita would recognize him and didn’t want to draw attention by waving to her when she came inside.

  Anita got out of the car. She looked Liam over. “What’s going on with all this?” she said, gesturing in such a way as to suggest she was talking about Liam’s appearance.

  “You don’t want to know,” Liam said.

  “I think I do.”

  With his hands in his pockets, Liam nodded toward the diner. “Come on. I’ll buy you something to eat. I need to know what you can tell me about the people Elise was hanging around with before she ran away.”

  Anita grabbed his arm. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not why I’m here. You think I came to give you information? Think again. I want to know what happened to my sister that night as much as you do. If you’re serious about looking for her killer, I’m in.”

  Liam glanced over both shoulders. “I’m not looking for a partner here.”

  “Too bad, because it’s all or nothing.”

  She was serious. She wanted to help, and who could blame her? But if he was caught, anyone with him might be charged with aiding and abetting. He didn’t want that to happen to Anita. She and her family had suffered enough already. Maybe if he told her, she’d let go of the idea.

  “There’s something you have to know.”

  “You mean that you’re on the run?” She gestured to his clothes again. “I kinda figured that out.”

  The door to the diner swung open and two teenage boys exited. They both looked at Anita. One winked. She flipped them the bird. They chuckled and walked away, but were still within earshot when they stopped to light the cigarettes one had taken out of a pack.

  “So, do you want my help?”

  “You know how it’s going to look if I get caught,” Liam whispered.

  “Do you want my help?” Anita repeated firmly.

  Of course he wanted her help. In fact, the more he thought about the idea, the better it sounded. Liam didn’t know what he was up against and Anita might prove more valuable than a mere conduit to Elise’s past. If she was willing to take the risk, then yes, yes, a thousand times, “Yes.”

  She gestured to the car. “Get in.”

  She drove them to Uptown. The neighborhood was being revitalized. New midrise apartment buildings and scattered pockets of upscale shopping were popping up along Lake Michigan. Everyone wanted a view of the water.

  They spent most of their time cruising the streets that hadn’t seen this influx of cash. Graffiti marred the facades of gas stations and convenience stores. A particularly active artist (if Liam could call him that) had tagged more than two dozen businesses with the handle “Red Bear.” Half the pedestrians looked sketchy and a quarter of them looked homeless. Everything seemed a little gray and sagged under the weight of neglect. Although Liam had grown up on streets not much better than these, he still felt out of his element.

  “Why does your dad blame himself for Elise?” he asked, remembering that her mother had said as much at the funeral.

  “Oh, that. He shouldn’t, you know. He just kept telling her to go to school or get a job or do something with her life. He said she couldn’t keep going out at all hours and sleeping until noon. Nothing good would come of that, he insisted. Elise complained about it a lot, said he needed to stop nagging her. She told me over and over that if he didn’t stop she was going to leave and we’d see how he liked that, but I didn’t think she really would. I thought it was all talk. Then, one day she was gone. None of us believed it at first. We kept thinking she’d hooked up with some guy”—her eyes cut from the road to Liam—“Sorry. Anyway, we kept thinking she’d come back after a little while. But, you know, she didn’t.”

  “That’s not your fault. Or your dad’s.”

  “I suppose. But we all kind of blamed ourselves for a while. I could have helped her get into nursing school, like I did, or gotten her a part-time job at the jewelry shop where I worked before that. I should have done more than just listen to her complain.”

  Liam knew there was nothing he could say to assuage her guilt. But he said, “I’m sorry,” anyway.

  Anita wasn’t having it. She shot Liam a look that said Whatever. He let it go.

  They came to a red light. Somebody on a bicycle whizzed past, traffic be damned.

  “You’re a nurse?”

  “Night shift over at Rush Medical. Any idea who you want to talk to?” she asked.

  “Not really.” Liam realized he was going to have to tell her about the arrests, and now seemed like as good a time as any. “Look, since you’re doing this with me there are some things you need to know about Elise that I didn’t tell you and you
r mom at the diner. Before she straightened out her life, she went to a dark place . . .”

  Liam paused long enough for Anita to ask, “What do you mean?”

  “She was arrested on charges of prostitution and possession.”

  “That sounds about right,” Anita said in a matter-of-fact way. “My brother thought that might happen.” She gently touched the scar on her cheek. “He wanted to make sure I didn’t do the same thing.”

  Liam wasn’t sure which brother she meant, but the inference was as unmistakable as it was horrifying.

  They drove for a while in silence.

  “We should talk to Dale,” Anita eventually said. “If that’s the kind of life she was living, he’s probably our best bet.”

  Liam nodded. “Okay.” He expected her to give him more than a name. When she didn’t, he asked, “Who’s Dale?”

  “Back in those days he managed some girls who worked the Streeterville neighborhood. He and Elise spent a lot of time down at Brewskis. It’s a bar a couple of miles from here. That’s the kind of stellar company she kept in those days.”

  Managed some girls. Liam found that to be a charitable description for a pimp and figured Dale had to be the one who had pushed Elise into prostitution. Ever since he’d set out to find her killer, he had known he might come face-to-face with that man.

  Anita parked along the curb in front of Brewskis. The bar was on the corner of Madison and Wilcox. The front door faced the intersection. The side they were on backed up to a smoke shop. The only way you could tell where one ended and the other began was by looking in the windows. Those belonging to the bar were tinted so dark Liam could hardly see anything inside. The ones belonging to the smoke shop featured a display of bongs and e-cigarettes.

  “He still hangs out here?” Liam asked, as he got out of the car.

  “He owns the place now,” Anita said.

  Brewskis was almost as dark inside as it had looked through the windows. The bar jutted out from the back wall and took up a lot of the floor space. It was surrounded on three sides by stools. Booths lined the walls with windows and neon signs adorned the rest. A few scattered customers drank their lunch. “Route 66,” performed by The Rolling Stones, was playing over the speakers.

  Anita directed Liam’s attention to a man behind the bar. He was crouched down, distracted, his head barely visible. “That’s him.” She walked up to the bar and Liam followed. When they got closer, they saw Dale fiddling with a keg.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Without standing up, Dale’s focus shifted from the keg to Anita. His lips parted into a reptilian smile. “How’s it going, beautiful?”

  Anita did not smile back. “We wanted to ask you about Elise.”

  His gaze cut to Liam. “Who’s this?”

  “He was her boyfriend.”

  Dale stood up, wiped his hands on his jeans. “She’s a real bitch, you know.”

  “I’m not—”

  “She’s dead,” Anita interrupted.

  “Really?” Dale asked.

  “Really.” Liam leaned awkwardly back, settling onto one of the stools. The man in front of him was skinny and bald and didn’t look like much of a pimp. But he had no reason to doubt Anita, so Liam pressed forward with his question. “You mind telling us if she ever worked for you?”

  “Here? No. I only bought this place a few years ago. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Elise.”

  “Not here.”

  Dale’s brow furrowed. Then his eyes lit up and his reptilian smile was back. “Oh, you mean . . .”

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” Liam said, sickened by the thoughts he imagined going through Dale’s mind.

  “Sadly, no. She thought she was too good for me. Didn’t mind coming around here to let me buy her drinks, but work for me?” He frowned, shook his head. “No way. She wasn’t having it. Believe me, I asked.”

  “Are you sure?” Anita said. “She was busted for prostitution.”

  “No shit,” Dale replied, in a way that suggested he already knew.

  “Who was she working for?” Liam said.

  “She didn’t work for anyone. The prostitution charge was bullshit. She was just getting out there on the street and hustling her way into guys’ cars to rip them off. Who are they going to tell, right? I don’t know how long she was up to that crap. Once I found out, I told her to knock it off or I’d bust her up proper and then nobody’d be asking to go balls deep. She was messing with my cash flow, you know? People didn’t want to stop.”

  Liam thought about what Anita’s brother must have done to her, how his reason had been different, but his goal the same. His disgust with Dale grew into anger. “Did you do something to Elise?”

  “No way. I liked Elise. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I had to make good on my threat. I just wanted to give her a good scare. Apparently it worked, too, because after we had our little chat, I never saw her again. Why are you asking about her, anyway?”

  Liam looked at Anita and she nodded, as if to say it was okay to tell Dale. “Elise was murdered.”

  “And you two are trying to figure out who killed her?” Dale almost laughed. “What are you, like, Cagney and Lacey?”

  Liam ignored the sarcasm. As tempting as it might be to reach across the bar, grab Dale by the shirt, and throw a hard right into his jaw, that wasn’t who he was. Sometimes he wished he could be that person, but wishing wouldn’t make it so, and besides, he wasn’t done asking questions.

  Anita did not have the same problem. She unzipped her leather jacket to reveal a Beretta strapped underneath her shoulder. “Hey, dickwad, knock it off. This guy’s been through a lot and the last thing he needs to deal with is your BS.”

  Dale’s amusement subsided a little, but not entirely. “Yeah, okay. Calm yourself down, Inspector Gadget,” he said to Anita. “What else do you want to know?”

  Anita looked at Liam, raised her eyebrows questioningly.

  Liam, who had instinctively hopped off the stool and back a step when he saw the gun, pulse quickening, tried to pull himself together. “Um, do you know anybody who might have wanted to hurt her? What about any of the guys she ripped off?”

  “No, don’t know any of them. Anything else?”

  Liam tried to think of another question. There had to be something this man could tell him. There just had to be. But he couldn’t think of one, so he reluctantly shook his head.

  “Best of luck to you two on this little detective thing you got going on.” Dale winked. Then, as if Liam and Anita had already left, he returned his attention to the keg.

  “This was a waste of time,” Anita said. “Let’s go.”

  Liam slid out between the stool and the bar. He felt a little foolish thinking he could solve Elise’s murder, and after seeing the gun, further out of his element than he’d expected to be.

  Maybe it wasn’t just coming here that was a waste of time. Maybe this whole thing was.

  As he and Anita turned to leave, Dale said, “Wait. I’m sorry. I don’t know what you two think you’re going to accomplish, but if you want to talk to somebody who might be able to send you in the right direction, give Karen Bennett a ring. Last time I saw Elise, those two were living together.”

  “You know where we can find her?” Anita said.

  “Pretty sure she works over at Barking Good. It’s like a kennel for rich people or something. Used to, anyway.”

  Liam Parker

  The lobby at Barking Good was small. A wooden kiosk occupied most of the floor space and every inch of the kiosk was covered with toys and treats for sale. Leashes hung on the wall to the right. Half-a-dozen monitors mounted by the door broadcast indoor and outdoor play areas where dogs, grouped by size, roamed free.

  Liam and Anita maneuvered around the kiosk to the counter and rang the bell. A short, stocky woman entered from the back. Her hair was trimmed to her ears. She was dressed in a Barking Good tee shirt and carrying a handful of rawhides. “Can I help you?�
�

  “We’re looking for Karen Bennett,” Anita said.

  “You found her. What can I do for you?”

  “Do you remember Elise Watson?”

  Karen dropped the rawhides into a jar on the counter. “Oh, God. What has she gotten herself into now? Whatever it is, I didn’t have anything to do with it. I haven’t seen that girl in years.”

  “It’s nothing like that,” Liam said. “We just need to ask you some questions.” On their way over, they had decided it would be best to avoid mentioning to anyone else Elise had been murdered. They didn’t need any more Cagney and Lacey wisecracks. They also agreed that if they could frame their conversation in such a way that led Karen to think they were cops, so much the better. Anita had even gone so far as to suggest they say they were cops, but Liam wasn’t comfortable breaking any more laws than he had to and was pretty sure they could accomplish the same thing by simply implying it.

  Judging from the way Karen was regarding them at that moment, Liam thought it might be working, too.

  “Elise lived with you, right?” Anita asked.

  “For a while.”

  “I gather you two don’t talk anymore,” Liam said.

  Karen made a face while she began arranging the rawhides, spreading them out along the lip of the jar. “You gather right.”

  “Why did you two part ways?”

  “She met some guy and, I’m not sure how to say it exactly, but she . . . changed. She started flashing around cash she shouldn’t have.”

  “Do you know where it came from?” Liam asked.

  “Nope. I told her I didn’t even want to know what it was about. The whole thing made me uncomfortable.”

  “That’s why you kicked her out? Because of the money?”

  “I let her live with me because I thought it would do her some good to get out of her parents’ house. But whatever she was up to, that wasn’t what I signed up for. I told her she needed to knock it off, that whatever she was doing was going to make things worse for her.” Karen slid the jar with rawhides to the edge of the counter. “She didn’t listen, so eventually, yeah, I asked her to leave.”