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

“You’re just saying that,” she grumbled, though I could see that she was trying to hide a smile.

“I’m really not,” I murmured as I leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “I have total faith in your abilities.”

“Get out of my office,” she smirked. Her cheeks were tinged red as she blushed. “You’re distracting me.”

I smiled before doing what she asked, closing the door softly behind me. I really did have full faith in her abilities as a data analyst, and by now, I’d learned how to diffuse her anxiety spirals and get her back on track.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Miranda suddenly appeared beside me, parroting my earlier words in a mocking imitation of me. “And here I thought you two were trying to be subtle. You remember her office is made of glass, right?

I couldn’t keep the blush off my face.

“Whatever,” I smiled at her. “Did you get anything from Wallace?”

“Nope,” she sighed. “He put out an APB with the suspect’s description that we got from Harry and for the brown delivery truck. Tips are starting to pour in, but as usual, most of them will be false. And even for the legit ones, it’s gonna take us a while to sort through them.”

“We should get started then,” I declared. Even if it did end up being a fruitless endeavor, I wanted to do whatever I could to help Eliza. I’d met her a few times over the holidays, and she’d always been unbelievably kind and selfless. It was painful to see her acting the way she was now, and I wanted to find Amber and reunite their family as soon as possible.

33

Charlie

I jerked awake for the third time that hour. I’d finally dozed off about four hours into the flight, but I hadn’t been able to get any rest. As soon as I started to drift to sleep, I’d hear Eliza’s screams again. Sometimes I’d hear Amber screaming, too. I knew it was just my imagination since I hadn’t heard Amber’s voice on that phone call at all. The combination of stress and sleep deprivation must have been messing with my head.

At the fifth hour, I finally decided enough was enough, and I headed to the back of the plane toward the galley. It was little more than a small fridge, considering it was a small jet only used by our agency, but I’d once seen a bottle of whiskey back there. I crossed my fingers as I opened the fridge, hoping it would still be there, and silently rejoiced when I saw that it was.

I wondered vaguely whose it was as I pulled it out of the refrigerator. Maybe Miranda’s. I’d never seen Junior drink on the plane, though I was usually asleep. Between her and Patel, I’d bet on it being hers. I took a plastic cup from one of the cabinets overhead before returning to my seat. Normally, I wouldn’t consume straight hard liquor like this, but I really needed to sleep. The odds were high that I’d be jumping into action the moment I touched down in Las Vegas, and I wouldn’t be able to help Amber if I was dead on my feet from lack of sleep.

I poured myself a finger’s worth before knocking it back like a shot. I repeated this action three more times, grimacing as the harsh liquid burned my throat. After the fourth one, my head started to swim, and I screwed the top back on the bottle. The gentle swaying of the plane felt soothing as I laid down across the seats and closed my eyes. I worried I might hear Eliza’s voice again, but to my relief, I didn’t. In fact, nothing at all came to mind as I gradually drifted to sleep.

Several hours later, I was jolted awake by the thud as the plane landed. I looked around in confusion before the events of the previous day came rushing back to me. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I had a slight headache, an indication that I hadn’t slept enough to feel rested. On the other hand, though, I had been out deeply enough that I’d completely missed the pilot’s announcement that we would be landing soon.

I stood unsteadily while the plane was still moving. The seatbelt light was still on, but I’d already slept through the entire landing procedure, so I figured there was no point in following the rules now. I moved into the tiny bathroom to splash some water on my face. There were dark circles under my eyes, and my hair was disheveled. I ran my hands through it a few times in an attempt to tame it and decided to call it good once it was no longer sticking up in multiple directions. I moved back into the cabin to retrieve my bag, but suddenly remembered I didn’t have one with me. I’d rushed straight to the airport from the police station without anything but my phone, wallet, and the clothes on my back.

I suddenly realized that now that I was back on the ground, I should have service again. I hastily pulled my phone out of my pocket to check for updates from my team, but was disappointed to discover my phone’s battery had died at some point during the flight. I cursed quietly to myself. It had been nine hours since I’d gotten that phone call, and I’d been unable to communicate with anyone while I was on the plane. There was no telling what might have happened within that time frame.

Twenty minutes later, I was buzzing with anxious energy as I stepped off the plane. It was early in the morning. I wasn’t sure exactly what time it was since my phone was dead, but judging by the way the sun was just starting to crest over the horizon, it was probably around five in