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

“I know, I know,” I sighed. “I’m sorry for freaking you out, okay? It was just a spur-of-the-moment decision. I didn’t even think about it. My body just moved on its own.”

“Well, I can tell you didn’t think about it,” Fiona retorted before heaving a long sigh. “But I understand why you did it. Those poor guys are probably going to be traumatized for life.”

“Yeah,” I grimaced. I had been right about it being a bachelor party. Apparently, the group of men had been having a nice night on the town when the suspect had suddenly approached them out of nowhere, demanding to know where his girlfriend was. He had tried to force his way into their pod as they were boarding, but when that failed, he started scaling the side of the Ferris wheel instead. They’d all been thoroughly shaken up by the time they were back on the ground, and I was sure the experience had ruined their night.

Our conversation was broken by a tinny, high-pitched jingle.

“Oh, that’s me,” Naomi announced as she pulled her phone from her bag and stepped away from us.

“I thought Wallace would be angrier,” I remarked as I unwrapped a comically large lollipop. “Since I shot a suspect live on TV, and all.”

“You were well within your rights to do so,” Fiona insisted. “You like a hundred feet up, standing on a slippery surface. It’s not like you could run or anything. What were you supposed to do when he came at you? And anyway, I think he was just glad you were okay. He was already shaken up over what happened with Howard. I think he would’ve been beside himself if something happened to you too.”

I knew that shot had been clean, but there were always people who would try to sensationalize anything and everything, and already my conduct was being called into question by the news stations. I didn’t care, personally. I’d never really cared what other people thought of me, but I was worried about how this might affect Wallace and our branch.

“Good news!” Naomi announced as she returned. “That was the hospital. The suspect is awake and lucid enough for questioning.”

“Let’s go, then,” I replied as I took one last piece of candy for the road.

The rain was coming down hard now, and as I got back into the car, I wondered if that would deter the people who were out enjoying the Halloween festivities. To my surprise, the streets were still reasonably packed, as people were either partying under umbrellas or just ignoring the rain altogether.

“Nothing will stop Las Vegas,” I chuckled. “Not even a downpour.”

“Indeed,” Naomi nodded.

There was enough traffic that it took longer than it usually would for us to get to the hospital, and by the time Naomi pulled into one of the parking spots, I was bursting with impatient energy. I jumped out of the car and led the way into the hospital and up to the reception desk.

“Hello,” a pretty young woman with her hair slicked back into a tight ponytail greeted us. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m Agent Castillo, with MBLIS,” I responded as I pulled out my badge. “And this is Agent Patel. We’re here about the man that was pulled off the High Roller a few hours ago.”

“Oh, right, of course,” the woman replied as she turned to look something up on her computer. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw it on the news. It was so scary. How did they not fall off?”

“I have pretty good balance,” I shrugged, holding back a snicker as realization clicked in her mind.

“That was you?” she asked, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Wow, wasn’t it scary for you?”

“Nah,” I replied cockily. “I’m a former Marine. I’ve been through scarier.”

“That’s so cool.” The woman smiled. “Anyway, the man is up in room three-thirteen. At the very end of the hall. There’s an armed guard outside his door.”

“Thanks,” I replied before turning to set off down the hall.

“You just thrive on showing off, don’t you?” Naomi sighed as we stepped into the elevators. “You really could have gotten yourself killed, you know. It’s nothing to brag about.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t,” I retorted. “I restrained the suspect and made it back down alive, so it is something to brag about.”

“You’re insufferable.” Naomi shook her head, but there was a slight smile on her face that took the bite out of her words.

“I know.” I grinned back at her as we got off the elevator on the third floor. I spotted the room in question right away, as there were not one but three uniformed police officers gathered around a door at the very end of the hall to the right.

“Good evening, officers,” I greeted as I approached the trio of men. They halted their conversation as soon as they looked up and saw me. “Agents Castillo and Patel, with MBLIS. We need to speak to the suspect.”

I presented my badge to them as I spoke.

“Alright,” one of the officers sighed. “Good luck with that. They pumped his stomach, and he’s not tripping out anymore, but he hasn’t exactly been cooperative, either. He keeps thrashing around and having fits, typical tweaker behavior. He’s going through withdrawal, and the hospital won’t give him any of the strong stuff, so he’s whining about his leg.”

“I see,” Naomi frowned. “Well, we’ll just have to try our best, then. He’s a part of our investigation, so even if it’s a fruitless endeavor, we have to at least make an attempt.”

“I hear you,” the officer shrugged. “His name is Kyle Mosley. He has a long list of priors, mostly drug possession and distribution. A few robberies and petty theft, too, but nothing on this level.”

“So he’s a drug addict,” Naomi surmised. “His behavior pattern certainly matches Penny’s and the other earlier cases.”

“So you think this guy was high on rush?” I asked. “And not an unsuspecting cough syrup victim.”

“I’d say that’s most likely,” Naomi nodded. “We should