A Reagan Keeter Box Set: Three page-turning thrillers that will leave you wondering who you can trus by Reagan Keeter (fiction novels to read txt) 📗

sound of the men’s room door opening. Martin stopped talking. He watched the hall that led to the restrooms until he saw a man in a plaid shirt appear. He noticed Martin looking at him and nodded. Martin nodded back. Once he was gone, Martin continued. “I just kept thinking about all the things that could go wrong.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong, not with Paul down there.”

Ethan was probably right. Paul had been exploring caves all over the Southeast since he was a boy. He knew his way in and around their twisting caverns. He knew their histories and how they had formed. He knew the tunnels that were safe and where to step. Paul even had the gear and a van big enough for the five of them.

“Look,” Ethan continued, “Cynthia hasn’t been back to Atlanta in—what?—five years?”

“Not since graduation.”

“Exactly. And, finally, after all this time, she’s coming back to see you.”

“She’s coming back to see her family,” Martin corrected.

Andy rocked his head from side to side as if to acknowledge the difference, but also to point out that it was inconsequential. “Okay, but she’s going to see you, too. And you said she’s looking forward to this.”

Martin took a sip of his beer and glanced across the bar. He remembered, at graduation, Cynthia had said they would be “friends forever.”

“Friends forever,” Martin had repeated, as she hugged him goodbye. Secretly, he didn’t want her to leave.

Pursuing a career in acting can be risky business, he had told her on several occasions; and he repeated the warning one last time before she’d gotten in her beat-up VW (Martin had his doubts that it could make it across the country) and driven to LA.

“Don’t worry about me,” Cynthia had said. “You’ll be seeing me on the big screen in less than two years. Promise.”

Martin had smiled weakly and said he hoped she was right.

“You can always come with me, you know.”

“I wish I could. But, no, I think I’d be better off staying here. I’ve got a good job waiting for me at the bank on Monday.”

“You sure that’s what you want to do?”

“I’m not as brave as you are,” Martin said. Acting was fun while he was in college. But it couldn’t last forever (even if he secretly wanted it to). He needed the security of a steady paycheck.

Then she kissed him on the cheek. “Promise you’ll call.”

“Every day.”

“You better.”

But every day quickly became once a week, then once a month. When they did speak, she would tell him about the auditions and the bit parts she had gotten here or there. Her first major break had come when she was cast for a Wheaties commercial. And, a year and a half after that, her career was officially launched when she landed a supporting role in the summer blockbuster Tomorrow Night.

Martin had said he was thrilled, but jealous would have been more accurate.

Ethan snapped his fingers in front of Martin’s face. “Hey! Martin! What are you fuckin’ thinking about?”

Martin shook his head. “Nothing. I was just . . . I don’t know.”

“Dammit, don’t fuck with me. Are you backing out or not?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

Cynthia worked a large rock loose and pushed it out of the way. As she did, small stones and gravel poured in, filling the space the rock had occupied. “This isn’t going to work.”

“You got a better idea?” Martin said. “Just keep digging!”

Martin met Cynthia at the airport with a hug, and she followed it with a string of clichés. It was so good to see him. He was a sight for sore eyes. Had he gotten more handsome, or was it just her imagination? On and on she went until Martin interrupted her.

“That’s enough,” he said. “It’s good to see you, too.” Then he took her carry-on and led her toward the main terminal.

She was prettier than he remembered. She was even prettier than she was on film. She had long, blond hair and eyes so big and blue that they looked like they had been painted on. She was perfectly built, perfectly proportioned, with perfect teeth and a perfect smile. Japanimation characters would have been envious, Martin thought; God knew the people in the airport were.

They pointed and whispered on the escalator and the moving sidewalk.

“Isn’t that . . .”

“Wasn’t she . . .”

Then, at the baggage carousel, a teenage boy asked for her autograph.

She would be delighted, she said, and Martin felt small. Now more than ever, he wished he had gone with her to LA. Who could’ve guessed she’d actually make it?

NOW

PAUL’S VAN WAS old, and it looked it. The shocks had worn to almost nothing. Cynthia said she was just glad there was enough room to spread out.

“Hey, and don’t go forgettin’ the radio,” Paul added just before they left. “The radio still works, so we got tunes. And no matter what anybody tells you, I’d take tunes over shocks any old day.”

The drive was slow going along the winding mountain roads. Twice they had to stop because Gina said the shaking and the bumping were making her sick.

“Hell, not again,” Ethan said the second time.

Paul pulled to the side of the road, and Gina threw open the passenger door. She made puking noises, but nothing came. Paul reached over and grabbed her hair to keep it out of her face.

Ethan hopped out of the sliding door in the back.

“Where are you going?” Paul asked.

Ethan looked from Gina to the expansive wilderness on the other side of the guardrail. “Going to get some fresh air.”

Cynthia, who was sitting next to Martin, closed the script she was reading and asked him if Gina would be okay.

“She’ll be fine. She gets motion sickness real easily.”

Cynthia still looked worried.

“She’s a nurse. Almost, anyway,” Martin added, as if that would set Cynthia’s mind at ease. “If it was anything serious, she’d let us know.”

Cynthia nodded her understanding, and then Ethan looked over his shoulder, told Gina to hurry up and vomit. “I mean, if you’re going