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

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I retorted weakly.

“Wow,” Miranda laughed. “Junior, you’ve conducted hundreds of interrogations. Has that line ever worked on you?”

“No,” I scoffed, smiling in spite of myself.

“Then why would you think it would work on me?” she asked. “Now come on, give me details. You and Fiona are my friends. I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before. How long has it been going on?”

I furrowed my brows as I thought about how I should answer. It was a little difficult to quantify, to be honest. We’d never really talked about or put a label on what was going on between us. We’d gone out for a meal together for the first time about a month ago, but we’d been flirting with each other for at least three months. Even before then, though, we’d been hanging out as friends several times a week.

“I guess it was--” I started to say, but I wasn’t able to finish. The first thing I registered was the sound of crunching metal, closely followed by the screeching of tires. Maybe it was the other way around, but it all happened so quickly that it was hard to tell which came first. After that was a blunt pain across my chest and lap as the seatbelt dug sharply into me, and an intense heat when my face collided with the airbag as it inflated in front of me. The last thing I remembered was the acrid smell of smoke as the car finally came to a stop on the side of the road after flipping once, or maybe twice. It was hard to tell from the inside of the car, but I could feel an alien sensation like I was floating before I was suddenly brought back down into my seat forcefully and painfully. By then, I was beginning to lose consciousness, and I couldn’t really focus anymore.

24

Charlie

The sun had just set, and Patel and I were already in position for our stakeout. Because a car would have called too much attention in this part of town, we’d made an arrangement with a store owner whose building was located in the center of the neighborhood. From here, we’d be able to watch both sides of the street for any suspicious activity.

“I can’t believe how much he charged us just to let us sit in here,” I grumbled.

“We’re lucky he agreed to help at all,” Patel replied. “The people here don’t trust the police. And for good reason. Trenchtown is one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Kingston. Even during the day, you’re liable to become a victim of theft or assault, especially if you’re a bumbling tourist who doesn’t know any better than to wander down here. The police don’t help matters, considering the majority of the ones in this area are corrupt, to put it plainly.”

“That’s why you didn’t want to use a car?” I asked.

“Of course,” she responded. “We’d be carjacked for sure. You’re clearly a foreigner, and I’m a woman. We might as well paint a target on ourselves.”

“Whatever happened to everyone in Jamaica being friendly?” I asked sarcastically.

“I stand by what I said,” Patel shrugged in response. “Jamaica is a wonderful country mostly filled with wonderful people, but I’m not stupid. It’s not perfect. I’ll admit that. Like in any country, there are rotten apples who try to spoil it for the rest of us. It does make sense, though, that they would target children from these areas. It’s not a safe place for a child, and people who grow up here are often powerless to rise above and get out. Someone coming and claiming that they want to take their child somewhere safe where they can receive an education must sound like a blessing.”

“And instead, they’re selling them off to rich Americans,” I snarled. It was disgusting that they would take advantage of parents who just wanted a better life for their kids. My blood boiled just thinking about it.

“Not if we have anything to say about it,” Patel sneered. “Look, someone’s coming.”

I looked out the window and saw a car creeping slowly down the road. Its lights were off, and by now, it was dark enough that it was difficult to see the car as it moved through the narrow street. It slowed to a stop right in front of a house a few yards away from the store.

“Do you think that’s them?” I asked as two men got out of the car and headed into the house after taking a quick look around the neighborhood.

“I think so,” Patel nodded. “We can’t be certain, but the time and location match the information Brown gave us. They’re also clearly up to something, judging from the way they took a look around before entering the house. While that’s not necessarily a strange sight here in Trenchtown, I somehow doubt it’s all just a coincidence.”

“Let’s move quickly then,” I urged as I stood up. “If we box them into the house, we’ll be able to apprehend them before they have a chance to escape.”

“Agreed,” Patel replied. “Just be careful. Remember, the child and parents are inside as well.”

I nodded as I made my way out of the small store and onto the street. We only had a small window of opportunity before the men came back out again. Once we were in front of the door, I took one last look at Patel to make sure she was ready to go inside. She gave me a small nod, and I pushed the door open before quickly stepping inside.

“Don’t move!” I yelled as I brought my gun up in front of me. “Agent Hills with MBLIS. Put your hands up!”

Four sets of surprised eyes turned to look at us. A woman, who I presumed to be the mother of the child in question, screamed and threw herself to the ground at the sight of my gun. The sound seemed to startle the two men we’d seen