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

“Probably straight to warn Davis,” Jackson smiled tauntingly. “You’d better hurry.”

Patel stood up without another word and briskly left the room. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get out of there. Between the vile comments he’d made and the sudden, unexpected beating that the cop had doled out, it had been a stressful interrogation.

“We need to call Wallace,” she declared as she exited the room. “We’ll have him arrange a flight for us so we can leave for Bermuda right away.”

“You don’t think he was lying?” I asked.

“No,” Patel shook her head as she walked down the hall toward the entrance of the police station. “He didn’t seem like it. Especially after that beating the officer gave him.”

“Yeah, what exactly was that?” I asked as I followed her through the front doors of the station and onto the street. “After he was finished, he just sat down like nothing was wrong, and you just continued the investigation. Not that my heart was bleeding for that creep, but something like that would have led to an internal investigation back home.”

“Well, we’re not at home,” Patel huffed as she fanned herself with the collar of her shirt. “And while I wouldn’t say that such practices are the norm here, it’s not exactly unheard of. I told you before that corruption runs rampant among law enforcement here. Even though it’s technically illegal, it’s highly doubtful that he’ll face any repercussions for attacking him like that. In the end, we got the information we needed. That’s what we should focus on.”

I reflected on that while Patel pulled her phone out of her pocket to call Wallace. I felt conflicted about what had just happened. On the one hand, and I would never admit this out loud, I felt that Jackson had deserved what had happened to him. He was a child kidnapper. So what if he got a little roughed up if it meant we could save the kids? On the other hand, I knew that what had happened was wrong. It was basically vigilantism. Laws were put in place for a reason, and we couldn’t just allow police officers to beat suspects up for the sake of extracting a confession. There had admittedly been times when I’d been tempted to attack a suspect, but I’d always controlled myself because I knew that just wasn’t how our legal system worked. As a federal agent, I couldn’t allow myself to give in to my primal instincts and lash out just because I was angry.

I looked over to the setting sun as I waited for Patel to finish speaking with Wallace. She was a few steps away, and I could only catch some of what she was saying. The breeze was cool and pleasant, and I allowed myself to just close my eyes and enjoy it for a few minutes.

“Okay,” Patel nodded as she walked back over to me and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “Wallace said that he’s arranging a plane for us now. It should be waiting for us when we get to the airport, so we should head there now. If what Jackson said was true about his partner warning Davis that we’re coming, he’s probably already on guard.”

“No time to waste then,” I agreed as I flagged down a taxi. I pushed my turbulent thoughts over what had transpired during the interrogation away. Patel was right. We had the information we needed, and that was what I needed to focus on right now.

26

Junior

The first thing I became aware of when I opened my eyes was a throbbing pain across my torso and abdomen. The second was a suffocating, prickly smell that burned my throat and made it difficult to breathe. It took me a moment to remember where I was and how I’d gotten here. Then I caught sight of the shattered windshield, and everything came flooding back.

Something large and dark had suddenly swerved into my lane. I couldn’t remember any concrete details, but judging by the size, it must have been a cargo truck of some kind. I’d panicked and sharply turned the steering wheel in an attempt to avoid it, but I’d been unsuccessful. The truck had hit the car, and my attempt to swerve out of the way had only caused me to veer off of the road with more force. I thought I could remember the car flipping over. The roof and the driver’s side door were partially caved in, so that must have been the case. The car was right-side-up now and filled with a hazy mist, most likely a combination of smoke from the engine and the powder that was released when the airbags inflated.

“Junior!” Miranda’s voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to look out the window and groaned when the movement caused my head to throb. “Don’t move. Just stay still, okay? I’ve already called nine-one-one. They’re going to be here any minute.” She was looking at me through the window. She had a cut on her head but otherwise seemed fine.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “How’s the other driver?”

“He left,” she yelled angrily. “Some moron in this big, brown delivery truck. I got out to go check on him and saw him driving away. Stupid piece of-”

“It’s okay,” I replied in an attempt to calm her down. Even if she didn’t seem to be physically hurt, it wasn’t good for her to get worked up like this right after an accident. That, and her yelling was causing my head to throb even more. “He obviously wasn’t hurt if he drove away. You’re not hurt, either, so it’s fine.”

“What about you?” she asked. “Does everything feel okay? I didn’t want to move you or anything until the ambulance got here.”

I checked myself for major injuries slowly, starting with my legs. I could move both of them, which was good. It meant I hadn’t sustained any severe nerve or spinal damage. Both of my arms felt fine as