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

“Looks like he’s going to be a pain to crack, too,” I sighed. “We didn’t get anything out of Jackson until that cop started backhanding him across the face.”

“I’m not sure that kind of tactic will even fly here,” Patel remarked. “Bermuda’s a little more strict when it comes to police regulations. We’ll have to figure out some other way to get him to talk.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. I’d never intended to start beating the information out of him, but it sounded as though Patel was disappointed that it wouldn’t be a possibility.

“So, how’s this gonna go down?” Tucker asked. “He wanted to speak to Agent Hills, but perhaps it would be better if both of you go in.”

“What do you think, Charlie?” Patel turned to look at me.

I thought about it for a moment.

“Let’s do that,” I agreed. “I’m not sure if that’ll make him feel any more intimidated, but it’s worth a shot. No one likes feeling outnumbered. You were also the one who fought with him. That might rattle him as well.”

“Fine by me,” Patel responded. “Are you ready?”

I nodded and was about to push the door open when I heard a tinny jingle. I watched as Patel slipped her phone out of her pocket.

“Hello?” she answered before walking a few steps away to take the call. I shifted impatiently. It must have been important if she was taking it right before an interrogation, and of the group’s leader no less. Still, the suspense of standing here while I waited for her to finish the call was nerve-racking.

“That was Nelson,” she murmured as she walked back over to us, her brows knitted in concern. “They think that the accident that Junior and Miranda were in wasn’t an accident at all.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I snapped impatiently.

“They think it might be the work of the traffickers,” she sighed. “Apparently, the truck that hit them was the large brown kind that delivers packages. Miranda says the two of you saw one parked outside the office a few nights ago.”

“There was one,” I replied slowly. I suddenly felt guilty for having reacted so brusquely. “I even thought it was a little weird that he was still out after sundown. That is a heck of a coincidence.”

“That’s what they think, too,” Patel nodded. “Nelson wanted to warn us to be careful. It’s possible that the stateside supplier has been trailing us since before we left.”

“Well, we already knew they might be on to us,” I frowned. “That doesn’t change much for us. They’re the ones who need to be more careful.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Patel nodded, though she still seemed worried.

“Well, if nothing else,” I prompted. “It’s one more piece of information to confront Davis with. Are you ready to go in now?”

“I am,” she stated resolutely.

I pushed the door to the small interrogation room open. Davis turned to look at us slowly, a smile spreading over his face as we entered the room.

“Agent Charlie Hills,” he crooned. “And Agent Naomi Patel, was it? How nice to see you both. Please, take a seat.” He was an older man, probably in his late forties or early fifties. His head was shaved smooth, and there was a manic look in his eye that, coupled with the pleasant way he’d invited us to sit as if we were all meeting for lunch, was incredibly off-putting.

“I’ll stand,” Patel remarked coldly, moving to lean against the wall between the two of us. She wasn’t standing directly behind him like she had to intimidate Brown, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t have worked on Davis, anyway.

“You’re making a lady stand?” Davis raised an eyebrow at me as I took the seat in front of him. “How ungentlemanly of you.”

“Agent Patel is a colleague and partner,” I stated blankly. “Her gender has nothing to do with the way I treat her. Now, why don’t you tell me what it is you wanted to speak to me about so badly?”

Davis’s face cracked into a malicious grin, and I fought the urge to look away from the horrid sight.

“Tell me about your family, Agent Hills,” he jeered.

“I’d rather not,” I deadpanned.

“Oh, but that’s what I wanted to speak to you about,” he responded, the smile on his face growing more insidious. “Family is so important, is it not?

“Who were you speaking to on the phone?” I asked, ignoring his question. I refused to fall for his little mind game. “When we got to the hotel, Agent Patel heard you speaking with someone. Who was that?”

“Oh, that was just my good friend,” Davis replied. “He lives in the United States, around the Las Vegas area. That’s where you two are from, is it not? He does favors for me from time to time, and I do some for him in return. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours. You understand.”

A feeling of dread began to grow in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t like where this conversation was heading. We’d just gotten a call from Nelson about how someone might have tried to kill Junior and Miranda, and now Jackson was making thinly veiled comments about being associated with someone in the US.

“Is this friend of yours someone who works for you?” I asked.

“As I said,” he smirked. “He does favors for me, and I do some for him.”

“Cut the crap,” I growled, irritated by the way he was dancing around the question. “We both know why we’re here. One of your men already sold you out as the leader of the group, so why don’t you stop beating around the bush already?”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Davis hummed. “But I am afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s strange,” Patel intoned as she pushed herself off the wall and walked over to the table. “Considering you shot at us the moment you saw us in the street. That seems like a pretty