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) 📗

friends weren’t behind them. They, of course, weren’t the only people on the street vandalizing stores, but they did seem to be the only people randomly targeting strangers.

“Are you sure?” he said.

“I’m sure,” Connor responded. But that wasn’t true. He had used GPS to get him to Austin’s apartment before and didn’t spend enough time in the city to be sure. He was, however, mostly sure.

CHAPTER 43

The judge had handed down a ruling in Olivia’s favor earlier that day. Erin would be living with her full time from now on. Olivia should have been happy. And she was. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the Callahan case. She had stopped by Roland’s office that morning, and the conversation had not gone as expected.

Roland worked in a modern monstrosity in a wealthy part of Manhattan. The firm was called Park & Manor Architecture and Construction. Which meant Frank worked in the same industry. If she needed to dig deeper, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out how they knew each other.

At first, everything had seemed normal. The firm was on the fifteenth floor. A security guard checked her ID, called up to announce the visit, and told her Roland would be down to see her. She shrugged, walked back to the tall windows that faced the street and watched people pass by until she heard a man’s voice say, “Detective Forbes?”

She turned around. The man heading toward her was dressed for the office (really, what else had she expected?) and carrying a donut in each hand. When he got close, he smiled, and, holding one of the donuts out in front of him, said, “They bring them into the office every day. I can’t help myself. You want one?”

That was probably the first sign that was something was off. When she came into a building like this, people rarely took the elevator down to see her. Even when they did, they would act put out when they arrived.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Roland looked down at the donuts, disappointed. She could tell he was trying to decide whether it would be rude to eat one anyway. Then, he swiftly threw both in a nearby trashcan and said, “Good choice. I don’t need it either. I’ve already had my fill. What can I do for you?”

“I need to ask you some questions about Frank Callahan.”

His smile faltered. He glanced around, perhaps making sure no one he knew was within earshot. “Do I need a lawyer?”

Sign number two. Something was definitely off. Maybe he would need a lawyer at some point. But right now, she wanted to keep this as cordial as she could. You catch more flies with honey and all that crap. Olivia smiled back. “Of course not.”

“Because whatever those kids told you, it was bullshit, you hear me?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve got evidence that says it isn’t all bullshit.” That was true. Sort of. Connor and Olin hadn’t told her much more than the fact that the two men knew each other. But being a little cagey probably wouldn’t hurt her chances of finding out more.

Roland’s flabby cheeks had turned a bright red and he was starting to sweat.

“I have a lot of debt, okay? And what I did isn’t that bad, is it? I mean, why are you here talking to me instead of Frank? He’s the one you should be talking to.”

“I’m going to,” Olivia lied, pushing her glasses back up her nose. She had gathered from Roland’s last comment that he didn’t know Frank was missing. But he was hiding something, and she wanted to know what. “First I want to hear what you have to say.”

“I better get a lawyer.”

“No, I promise. I’m not here about you. I just want to hear in your own words what happened.”

Roland sighed, reached his hand into the trashcan and pulled out one of the donuts. He took a bite, chewing it slowly. “Frank was drunk,” he said as he worked the donut around in his mouth before swallowing it. “We were at The Cork. You know it?”

Olivia didn’t, but she nodded. She didn’t want to slow the momentum of his story.

“Yeah, well, I saw him there a lot after work. It’s a popular bar for some of the guys in our industry. Couldn’t tell you why. Place is a shithole. But that’s where everyone goes. So, anyway, one night, after everyone left, and it was just Frank and me still at the bar, he says he has something he has to get off his chest. I can’t tell you why on earth he thought it was a good idea to tell me. Probably just the alcohol talking.”

Roland took another bite from the donut. This time, at least he waited until he finished chewing before he spoke again. “I mean, what was I supposed to do with that information? I didn’t have any proof it was true.”

“You blackmailed him?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Olivia suspected the DA would.

Keep it cordial, she reminded herself. There was more here. “No, you’re right. Like you said, you didn’t have any proof. If you had brought it to the police, what would we have done with it?”

“Exactly.”

“What did he tell you?”

Roland’s smile, which had disappeared for most of their conversation, returned and grew wider. Then he leaned in, spoke at a whisper. Olivia could tell he was excited to share the story.

It was disturbing. So disturbing, actually, she was still thinking about it when she took her daughter to TGI Friday’s that evening for dinner.

Olivia had thought a night out might make breaking the news to Erin a little easier. As much as her father disappointed her—cancelling weekend visits, forgetting her birthday, showing up late—she was always excited to see him.

After a lot of questions, Erin seemed to reluctantly accept the situation. She would likely pout for the next week or so, but there was no screaming, no tears. Erin rarely acted out.

It had gone as well as it could have, Olivia decided on their way