Kingston Kidnappings (What Happens In Vegas Book 3) by Matt Lincoln (great book club books .txt) 📗

thanks for telling me,” I replied. I felt a little honored that she’d chosen to share her story with me of all people, and now I knew what kind of headspace she was in. It was no wonder that she sympathized so much with the kids, considering she too had been sold against her will. It must have all been very personal for her.

“No problem,” she smiled, suddenly sounding much more cheerful. “Now, it’s your turn. Tell me what’s going on between you and my partner.”

Oh, crap, she was right. I’d agreed to talk as long as she did first, and after that story, I couldn’t back out of it.

“There’s really not much to talk about,” I huffed, suddenly feeling shy. I was confident in my abilities when it came to dating, but I wasn’t the kind of guy who bragged about my exploits. I felt especially uncomfortable sharing details with Patel, who I wasn’t really that close to apart from being coworkers. “We hooked up on a mission we were on a few months ago, and we’ve been getting together occasionally ever since. It’s nothing serious.”

Patel slumped into her chair with a look of dismay.

“That’s it?” She pouted. “After everything that I told you, and that’s all you have to say?”

“I told you there was nothing to say!” I protested.

“How anticlimactic,” she sighed. “So you’re not even dating or anything?”

I was about to say no, but before I could form the word, I remembered what had happened two nights ago. We’d spent hours eating and talking and playing stupid games together. I could argue that we’d only been acting within the scope of friendship, but I certainly hadn’t ever stayed up until the wee hours of the morning watching terrible crime dramas with any of my other friends. I saw something spark in Patel’s eyes, and I knew instantly that I’d hesitated to answer for just a moment too long.

“There is more to it,” she declared as she narrowed her eyes.

“I didn’t say anything,” I retorted.

“You didn’t have to,” she shrugged. “It’s alright, though, I’ll interrogate Miranda about it later. She doesn’t have anything resembling a filter, so I’m sure I’ll get more details out of her.”

“You’re acting like a high schooler,” I commented, though I was glad she would be bugging Miranda instead of me now. This entire exchange had felt so juvenile.

“I won’t deny that,” she smiled. “But I spent my actual teenage years trying to convince my parents not to marry me off to the highest bidder, and we both know how incredibly trying this job can be. I need to have something to take my mind off of things, and if that something just so happens to be meddling in the personal lives of my fellow agents, then so be it.”

I huffed out a laugh. As long as Miranda didn’t care about Patel knowing, I didn’t either. I wasn’t ashamed, and if focusing on that helped her take her mind off her parents, then I was fine with it. I really had meant it when I’d told her that we couldn’t afford to have her be distracted while we were on the case. Letting her mind drift for just one moment could mean the difference between life and death, and I needed to know that she was focused on the case.

Patel spent the rest of the flight gossiping good-naturedly about all of our other fellow agents, and by the time we landed in Jamaica, I felt confident that we were both ready to take on the mission.

17

Junior

“Do you think Charlie and Naomi are getting along?” I asked Miranda as we pulled into the neighborhood that Fiona had sent us to. Apparently, the one number she’d managed to get a legitimate address for was registered under a house here. We were in the northernmost part of Las Vegas, in an area with a peculiar mix of affluent and impoverished homes.

“I hope so,” Miranda laughed. “Charlie can be so standoffish, and Naomi can be kind of crazy. It’s an interesting combination.”

“What do you mean, crazy?” I asked.

“You’ve never noticed?” Miranda asked as she shot me a look. “She, like, gets a kick out of watching people squirm. Usually suspects during interrogations, but I’ve seen her do it to her friends, too. She’s kind of sadistic.”

“Really?” I asked. Naomi had always struck me as very calm and collected. I couldn't imagine her getting joy out of manipulating other people.

“Yeah, she’s kind of nuts,” Miranda shrugged casually. “But that’s probably why we get along so well. Anyway, I think we’re here.”

I looked up at the clusters of palm trees as we drove past. They were a part of Las Vegas that I’d always loved. They made me feel as though I was heading somewhere tropical and exotic, even if I was just driving to work, or in this case, to a suspected crime scene.

As Miranda pulled into the driveway of the house, it surprised me to see that it was one of the more run-down looking ones.

“That’s odd,” I remarked. “So far, all the children have been found in expensive homes owned by wealthy couples, which makes sense considering the cost of getting them probably isn’t cheap. Why would the supplier have been communicating with someone who didn’t have the means to buy one of the kids?”

“Maybe he wasn’t a buyer,” Miranda suggested. “Or it could just be a case of looks being deceiving. The house doesn’t look expensive, but that doesn’t mean whoever lives here doesn’t have money.”

“That’s true,” I nodded as I got out of the car. Miranda did the same, and we both walked up to the front door of the house.

“Hello,” I called as I knocked on the door. There was no answer.

“They might not be home,” Miranda hummed. “No cars in the driveway, and it doesn’t look like any lights are on.”

“Do you want to stake it out for a while?” I asked as I stepped away from the door and took