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

hadn’t just solved a single case here. We’d stopped the man responsible for countless crimes, a man who would have undoubtedly gone on to commit countless more had we not stopped him. It was a sense of accomplishment like I’d never felt before.

38

Fiona

I pushed open the door to my apartment and flipped on the light switch as I walked inside. It wasn’t the cozy suburban house I’d once had, but it had its own charms. I’d managed to score an apartment on one of the building’s higher floors, and the view of the city from the balcony was amazing. The only real downside was that Beau didn’t have a yard to run around in anymore, but he’d always been a pretty lazy indoor dog anyway, and he seemed content with the daily walks we went on.

“Bobo,” I called tiredly as I closed the door behind me and locked it securely. I heard the clattering of tiny nails clicking against the ground as Beau came hurtling out of the bedroom and into the den to greet me.

I scooped him up into my arms and carried him over to the living room before falling backward onto my couch. It had been a long day, and I was too drained to even change out of my work clothes. The encounter earlier this morning with the man who'd broken into our office and introduced himself as Brennan Gallagher had left me rattled. Then I’d been unable to relax until Junior had called me to let me know how his mission had gone.

To my relief, he and Charlie had managed to apprehend Finnian Gallagher with minimal injury, and Junior had told me that he and Charlie would be flying home the next day. He’d also told me about the mysterious stranger that had shown up at the eleventh hour who had attempted to take O’Sullivan away with him. He’d managed to slip away and avoid capture.

I glanced at the clock mounted over my television. It was a little after six, which meant that it was technically already the next day over there, around two in the morning.

“Maybe I should start baking,” I mumbled to myself as I stroked a hand through Beau’s thick, fluffy fur. It would probably be wise to do it now instead of trying to rush in the morning, but I was so comfortable cuddling with Beau on the couch that I didn’t really want to entertain the idea of moving.

I turned the television on with the remote and flipped through channels without really paying attention to what I saw. There was always a deep sense of calm and satisfaction that came at the end of a case, like the end of a long workout, and I was content to just relax and zone out for the moment.

I jumped when my doorbell rang. It was a wholly unfamiliar sound, as I usually wasn’t home to accept mail deliveries, and the only visitor I ever got was Junior, who would just come in using his key.

It was a little late for mail delivery, and my mind instantly flew to our previous case. The people behind the child trafficking cases we’d investigated had used delivery trucks to move through neighborhoods unnoticed.

“Maybe it’s some kind of solicitor,” I whispered to Beau, who had raised his head and was staring at the door with rapt attention. I got up off the couch and retrieved my gun from my bag by the front door. I was probably being paranoid, and the thought of greeting some Girl Scouts just trying to sell cookies with a loaded firearm brought a small smile to my face.

The doorbell rang again just as I glanced through the peephole, and to my intense horror, it was not just a group of innocent Girl Scouts on the other side. It was Brennan Gallagher.

I tightened my grip on my gun. In retrospect, it wasn’t that surprising that he’d be able to find out where I lived. He’d broken past the office’s security, after all, and if he really was with the mafia, he probably had methods of gaining information.

“What do you want?” I yelled through the door as I positioned myself against the wall. If he tried to break in, I’d have a clear shot of him.

“Ah, you surprised me,” Brennan chuckled through the door. “Why are you yelling?”

“Answer the question,” I snapped.

“Can’t you open the door?” he called. “It’s a little awkward yelling through the door. Aren’t you worried about the neighbors?”

“If it’s awkward, then go away,” I retorted, ignoring his blatant attempt to guilt me into opening the door.

“Don’t be like that,” he laughed. I clenched my teeth together. The casual way he was speaking to me, as though we were friends, really irritated me.

I walked quickly over to the couch and retrieved my phone. Miranda lived the closest, so she could probably be here in just a few minutes if I called her. I flipped through my contacts quickly to find her number.

“I just wanted to let you know that I had good news!” Brennan yelled as I put the phone up to my ear. He paused as if waiting for my reaction, but I wasn’t about to fall for such an obvious tactic.

“Hello?” I hissed as soon as the call connected.

“Hey, what’s up?” Miranda asked, clearly concerned by the tone of my voice.

“Brennan’s here,” I answered quickly. “That guy who broke the keypad, remember? He’s outside my door.”

“On my way,” Miranda replied before ending the call.

“Hello?” Brennan called through the door.

“Yeah, I heard you,” I snapped, still unwilling to play into whatever dumb game this was. It was evident that he wanted me to pry and pull whatever information he had out of him, but I wasn’t biting.

“And you aren’t curious?” He called back.

“If it’s so important,” I spat, “Why don’t you just tell me?”

Beau was whining softly as he paced around at my feet. He could probably sense my anxiety.

“Open the door, and I will,” he replied.

I sighed