Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4) by Matt Lincoln (motivational novels TXT) 📗

candy do something to offend you?” Fiona paused her work to look up at me as I ripped open another piece of chocolate.

“It’s not the candy,” Naomi sighed as she leaned forward to rest her elbows against Fiona’s desk. We’d invaded her small office after getting back, and now the three of us were crowded around her desk. “She’s just sore about the fact that we couldn’t get a warrant to search that bar, and she’s pitching a fit over it.”

“Well, aren’t you mad about it?” I protested as I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair. I knew I was being childish, but this was just so wrong. We knew that something was going on with that bar, but we couldn’t access it due to a legal technicality.

“Of course I am,” Naomi rolled her eyes. “But whining about it isn’t going to get me anywhere. Anyway, we should probably start heading out soon.”

I checked the time and realized that she was right. The sun was only just starting to go down, but people would start heading out to their parties the moment it got even a little darker. After all, it was Halloween, and we were planning on patrolling around the strip just in case anything happened. Halloween in Las Vegas was known for being a wild, drug and booze-fueled party, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if another attack occurred tonight.

“Alright,” I nodded as I regretfully stood up. We’d been holed up in Fiona’s office eating Halloween candy all morning, and I much preferred that to dealing with idiots acting stupid on Halloween.

“Have fun, stay safe,” Fiona called flatly as we left the office and headed toward the stairs. As we left the building and headed into the parking lot, I noticed that the sky was overcast, and everything around me seemed washed out and dreary. It definitely fit the spirit of the holiday, but it also gave me a bad feeling, like something terrible was about to happen.

“Where to?” Naomi asked as we got into the car.

“Let’s head to Fremont Street,” I suggested. “They’re having some kind of costume competition there, so there’s bound to be a lot of people. We can drive up and down the strip from there.”

“Sounds good,” Naomi replied as she started the car.

We spent the next few hours doing rounds of the strip as we listened in on the police radio. Occasionally, we would respond to a call if it sounded like something that might be related to our case, but for the most part, we just kept watch as the sky grew darker and more people began to spill out onto the streets of the city.

“Here you go,” Naomi announced as she ducked back into the car and handed me a steaming caramel apple. We’d noticed a street vendor selling them and had decided to park the car nearby.

“Thank you,” I chirped as I took the Halloween treat from her. The apple was enormous, easily bigger than my fist, and freshly dipped in piping hot melted caramel. “I wish we were off the clock. Those drinks look good, too.”

All around us, party-goers were walking around holding multi-colored cocktails. I kept seeing people holding the same blue one with smoke floating off the top, and I wondered what it could be and where they were getting them.

“Well, you’ll have to wait until we’re done working,” Naomi replied. “Which shouldn’t be that long, honestly. We’ve already been out here a couple of hours, and I’m sure the celebrations go on late into the night.”

“I hope so,” I chucked. Despite my earlier reservations, it didn’t seem like anything bad had happened at all. Even the rain was holding off, and although the sky was dark and covered with menacing-looking clouds, the ground below remained dry. I wouldn’t mind coming back out after work and having a drink or two.

“All available units respond,” the radio crackled to life as a voice called.

I listened with rapt attention as Naomi turned the volume up.

“Shots reported at thirty-five-forty-five Las Vegas Boulevard,” the dispatcher continued. “Possible two-forty-five in progress.”

“Thirty-five-forty-five,” I muttered out loud. “That’s the address for the High Roller.”

“The Ferris wheel?” Naomi asked as she put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking spot.

“That’s the one,” I confirmed. “She said there was a possible assault in progress. We should check it out just in case.”

“On it,” Naomi nodded as she sped down the Strip.

The High Roller was a massive Ferris Wheel located in the middle of the Strip, and it was viewable from almost any part of downtown Las Vegas, considering it was the largest Ferris wheel in the world. It was so big, in fact, that it took a full thirty minutes for it to make a full rotation. I could already see it from where we were, lit up with yellow and pink lights. I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of action on the ground as we approached the wheel. I could see people scrambling around and yelling, but I couldn’t actually spot the source of the commotion. It wasn’t until my eyes drifted back up toward the Ferris wheel that I realized what everyone was panicking about.

About halfway up the right side of the wheel, a small black figure was dangling off the side of one of the carts, swinging something in his hand around threateningly.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I muttered as we pulled up to the base of the wheel. I threw open the passenger side door and stepped out of the car, careful to keep a visual on the person the entire time.

“Do you think it’s related?” Naomi asked as she rushed to stand beside me.

“Well, he’s clearly not in his right mind,” I remarked as I watched the man get onto his knees on top of the cart and start wildly pounding on it with his fists. “I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

I heard the sound of sirens and turned to find two police