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

that? It’s like signing your name at every crime scene, but instead of writing your name, you draw a stupid flower!”

“Celtic knot,” Junior corrected as he took a sip of the brightly colored cocktail that Miranda had ordered a round of for everyone at the table. It had been too sweet for my tastes, so I’d politely pushed it away after just a single experimental sip. Miranda had taken it upon herself to drink it instead.

“Whatever,” she replied, her voice louder than she probably realized. “My point still stands. If he hadn’t been so obsessed with making a name for himself, we might not have caught him.”

“He couldn’t resist the allure of power,” Naomi posited. “Making yourself well-known and well-feared is a good way to obtain control.”

“Too bad he was an idiot,” I remarked. “We didn’t even realize it was a Celtic knot until he told us. Pretty hard to become feared when no one can actually figure out who’s behind the symbol.”

“Too bad they aren’t all idiots,” Naomi huffed. “There are clearly some people within that organization with a modicum of skill.”

“Not enough,” Fiona answered quickly. “Anyway, what happened with the main leader, Finnian Gallagher?”

“He was being kept under extreme confinement when we left,” Junior replied. “I felt kind of bad for him, but it couldn’t be helped since we couldn’t risk someone from his own organization getting into communication with him. Only a select few people were even allowed near his cell.”

“Don’t feel bad,” I grumbled. “The guy’s scum who ran an organization full of career criminals. Seamus also told me that they’re going to ‘leak’ fake information about his extradition and the prison he’ll be transferred to. He won’t be getting loose no matter how confident he is.”

“That’s good,” Fiona sighed. “Even though O’Sullivan was the one behind all the major cases we’ve investigated in the past year, I got the feeling that Gallagher was in a league of his own. I’m glad that he’ll be behind bars now.”

“That’s right!” Miranda yelled. I was so surprised by the sudden outburst that I flinched. “We don’t ever have to worry about running into that stupid symbol again! We did it, guys!”

Her voice was grating, but her enthusiasm was undeniably infectious, and a moment later, we were all toasting to the accomplishment. I grinned as I looked around the table at my fellow agents and friends. This wasn’t just a single one-off case we’d solved. We’d managed to bring down the leaders of a massive organization and stop countless future cases from ever happening. It was a cause for celebration.

Two hours and several drinks later, I finally stumbled out of the bar and into a taxi back to my apartment. I was exhausted, but I felt a thrill of accomplishment and satisfaction knowing that MBLIS had managed to stop such a dangerous and prolific criminal. Miranda had been dragged off by Naomi a little while earlier, so hammered that she was alternating between staring silently into space and loudly shouting whatever thought popped into her head. Junior, Fiona, and I had stayed a while longer until I began to feel like an awkward third wheel, at which point I’d excused myself. I’d been sorely tempted to invite the friendly waitress who’d been making pointed glances at me all night back to my apartment, but I’d already made plans to visit Harry the next day, and I was inebriated to the point that it was probably better for me to just head home and go to bed.

I yawned as the taxi pulled up to my apartment building. As I stepped out of the cab and toward the stairwell that led up to my unit, all the stress and excitement I’d been feeling for the last few days seemed to ebb away at once, and my eyes were drooping by the time I unlocked my front door. I kicked my shoes off at the entrance and lazily peeled my clothes off before falling into bed, grateful to be in my own bedroom after so many nights abroad. I thought to myself vaguely that I should probably set an alarm so that I’d be up early enough to head over to Harry’s as I drifted off, but before I could fully focus on the thought, my eyes were already closed.

Epilogue

I smiled fondly as I remembered that night. It was one of my favorite memories from my time as a field agent and one of the first times I felt like I’d genuinely made a significant impact in the world.

I looked up and was surprised to find that every eye around the little campfire was on me. It seemed like everyone had sobered up by then, and even the young man who’d consistently played the guitar throughout the entire story had stopped playing as I drew the tale to a close.

“So, that’s it?” one of the boys asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” one of the girls nodded. “Was that really the end of it?”

“What happened with your partner’s arm?” another boy asked. “Did it ever start working correctly again?”

“What about the mafia?” a different girl interjected. “You never ran into them again?”

“Bro, you seriously didn’t take that girl home?” one of the boys on the other side of the campfire asked, and I burst into laughter. Of all the things to take from that story, of course that was what he focused on.

“Well, that wasn’t the end, of course.” I chuckled at the group’s rambunctious chattering. It felt similar to fielding questions from my own curious grandkids, and I didn’t mind sharing with them. “MBLIS went on and continued solving cases. But solving that case was like closing a chapter in my life. Everything that followed would take too long for me to get into. Oh, Junior was fine, too. He ended up having to take a few months off to have surgery on his arm, but after that, he went right back into the field. As accident-prone as he was, he never considered