Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4)

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Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4) Page 1

by Matt Lincoln




  Irish Throwdown

  What Happens in Vegas book 4

  Matt Lincoln

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  2. Charlie

  3. Charlie

  4. Miranda

  5. Junior

  6. Miranda

  7. Charlie

  8. Junior

  9. Charlie

  10. Fiona

  11. Charlie

  12. Junior

  13. Charlie

  14. Junior

  15. Miranda

  16. Fiona

  17. Charlie

  18. Miranda

  19. Charlie

  20. Charlie

  21. Junior

  22. Charlie

  23. Fiona

  24. Charlie

  25. Miranda

  26. Charlie

  27. Charlie

  28. Junior

  29. Charlie

  30. Charlie

  31. Miranda

  32. Miranda

  33. Miranda

  34. Fiona

  35. Charlie

  36. Charlie

  37. Charlie

  38. Fiona

  39. Charlie

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  I stood back to admire my work with a satisfied smile. It had taken me some time since I’d wanted to handle everything myself, but finally, the motel’s remodeling was complete. I supposed calling it a “remodel” was a bit of a misnomer since all I’d done was give everything a fresh coat of paint and change the furniture. The most recent change was the new sign I’d constructed and installed myself on the side of the road. It bore the motel’s name and pointed drivers in the right direction. The motel was tucked into the side of a heavily wooded area that was so dense, it was easy for people to drive right by it.

  I chuckled to myself as I stepped away from the sign and walked back to the motel. To think that I’d one day be trying to drum up business for a place I’d bought specifically so that I could be alone.

  It had all started a few months ago when a story about a couple walking the entire length of North America went viral online. I’d been surprised when I suddenly started receiving an influx of unexpected visitors until I heard about the story and realized the people in it were none other than the young couple who had stayed at the motel half a year before then. They’d mentioned the motel and the “friendly old man” who’d left an impact on them in their online video blog. I’d been highly amused by their generous description of me and had rolled with the increase in visitors. Most of them were other backpackers and survivalists, trying to recreate the journey or experience a part of it for themselves.

  Then, somehow, a rumor started spreading that the motel was haunted. To be honest, I thought the entire thing was hilarious, and when guests would ask about it, I wouldn’t deny it. This just fueled the rumors, and before I knew it, my little motel gained a reputation as one of the most haunted hotels in Alaska. Guests who’d stayed at the hotel wrote posts on online forums claiming to have experienced supernatural events, and soon enough, websites dedicated to ghosts and other paranormal subjects started speculating about the history of the motel.

  In reality, there wasn’t much to know. It had been built by a wealthy but foolish person who had no idea how to manage it, and they had gone bankrupt within just a few years before I came along and bought it. That didn’t stop people from spinning their own wild tales, though.

  I didn’t pay it much mind until that October when people started showing up to the motel in droves. They all wanted to know which room was the most haunted or where they were the most likely to experience “activity.” I also started getting calls from people asking if we had any vacancies for Halloween, and within a few days, the motel was completely booked for the night of the thirty-first.

  In a surprising twist, the fact that the hotel was so isolated and run-down made it all the more alluring to the guests who came in search of a paranormal experience.

  Amber, who had inherited my sense of humor despite not being biologically related to me, had thought this was all hilarious as well and encouraged me to run with it. We’d repainted the exterior and interior walls so it wouldn’t look too dilapidated, but we’d changed all the furniture to appear even more old-fashioned. Amber had been thrilled about that part and had come up with little stories for the ghosts that supposedly haunted each room as she chose the decor.

  At first, I’d been a little hesitant until I realized I could put the unexpected boost in income into a savings account for my grandkids.

  I took off my coat as I stepped back into the motel lobby. It was only a few days before Halloween now, and the motel was already bustling. I’d hired a few kids from the nearest town to work here while we were busy, and the boy behind the desk, Caleb, looked up at me as I came inside.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Hill,” he smiled. “How are you?”

  “Doing fine, Caleb,” I informed him as I stepped up to the front desk. “I was just putting up the new sign.”

  Caleb was the oldest worker, but he’d actually been helping me out around the hotel seasonally since he was sixteen. I’d known him for a few years now, and he was always the first one I called when things started getting busy.

  “Oh, really?” he asked as he craned his head to glance out the window.

  “I don’t think you can see it from here,” I chuckled. “I put it a little down the road so people wouldn’t miss it from their cars.”

  “Oh,” Caleb sighed, sounding a little disappointed. “Someone’s coming, though, I think.”

  I turned to glance out the same window he was looking through. Sure enough, a large pale yellow motorhome turned off the main road and into our parking lot.

  “Were there any check-ins left?” I asked as the oversized vehicle slowed to a stop at the end of the parking lot.

  “Just one,” Caleb replied. “It might be them.”

  “Well, as long as--” I started but stopped short as the motorhome door popped open and people began to climb about. One, two, three, more and more until eight people stood in front of my motel. “Did we have any large group reservations?”

  “No…” Caleb muttered in confusion as he looked at the people standing outside. “We don’t have any rooms available, either, if they don’t already have a reservation.”

  “Alright,” I sighed. “I’ll go give them the bad news.”

  I stepped outside toward the group. I felt terrible having to turn them away, but I really didn’t have anywhere to put them.

  “Whoa,” one of the young men gasped as he saw me approaching. “You’re that guy, right? The old guy?”

  “Excuse me?” I snapped, confused and a little annoyed by his remark.

  “Dude,” one of the girls in the group scoffed as she attempted to swat him on the back of the head. She missed by about a foot. “That’s so rude. Seriously? Sorry about that. He’s just excited that we’re actually here.”

  “Yeah,” another girl giggled. “We were all so excited about seeing this motel. We read about the little girl ghost that walks around at night.”

  “Christine,” a fourth boy drawled. “That’s, like, totally an urban legend.”

  I looked around at the group. Their eyes were bloodshot, and they were each wearing dopey grins on their faces. They were high.

  “Who drove here?” I demanded to know as the kids continued to squabble about whether the story was real.

  “Me!” a voice called out from the back of the crowd. I raised an eyebrow as a short man with sandy blond hair shoved his friends aside to get to me.
“Sorry, it’s my uncle’s RV, and I wanted to make sure I parked it correctly. Just ignore whatever they said to you. They’re, uh…”

  “High?” I finished for him as he stuttered.

  “Yeah,” he laughed sheepishly. “But it’s just weed, I swear. And I’m totally sober.”

  “It’s fine,” I chucked at his nervous expression. Marijuana was legal in Alaska, and now that I knew they had a designated driver, I wasn’t too concerned. “I did my fair share of crazy things when I was young, and I’m not exactly a stranger to drugs. I’m afraid I don’t have any room for you, though.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” the young man smiled with relief. “We were just going to stay in the RV. We just wanted to look at the hotel since we heard it was haunted.”

  “Well, alright then,” I replied. “Why don’t you come inside? We have a restaurant. I can’t board you, but I can get you something to eat.”

  “Yes!” the first girl gasped. “I am so hungry.”

  “I bet,” I chuckled. “Well, come on. It’s not a big menu, but I’m sure you’ll find something you like.”

  I led the group through the main doors and toward the restaurant. I could hear them giggling and joking about seeing ghosts as they followed behind me.

  “Chelsea!” I called as I left them in the dining room and headed into the kitchen. “I’ve got a pretty big group out there about to order food, just wanted to give you the heads-up.”

  “Got it.” She smiled confidently at me. Chelsea was hoping to go to culinary school after graduating from high school. I didn’t have the means or equipment for her to work to her full potential here, but I figured the cooking experience would be good for her resume.

  With that settled, I retreated from the restaurant and headed back onto the front porch of the hotel. There was a row of new, rustic-looking rocking chairs set out on it, and I fell into one to admire the view. Autumn on the mountain was beautiful. The trees were still awash in hues of red and gold, but snow was already starting to accumulate on the ground and on branches as well. It was a calm and serene sight, and I felt my eyes drifting shut as I admired it.

  “Um, excuse me.” A timid voice jerked me from my doze. I looked up to find the group’s designated driver standing in front of me. “I was just wondering if it would be okay if we built a fire pit.”

  “A what?” I asked in shock.

  “Not a big one,” he amended quickly. “We use this thing that’s kind of like a grill. It’s meant for roasting marshmallows and stuff.”

  “What, in the parking lot?” I asked. I looked up and realized that the sky had gotten considerably darker. How long had I dozed off for?

  “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Um, it’s okay if we can’t. We were just wondering.”

  “Sure, I guess that’s fine,” I shrugged as I looked out over the parking lot. There was a lot of empty space, and as long as it was just a tiny campfire, it would probably be fine.

  “Wow, really?” the young man beamed. “That’s awesome. Do you want to come sit with us? We were just going to tell scary stories and stuff. I’m Austin, by the way.”

  “Charlie,” I introduced myself with a chuckle. It was funny how quickly he’d gone from shy to excited. “But, uh, nah. You kids have fun.”

  Honestly, I just wanted to continue my nap. I was still pretty drowsy, and I was sure I could doze back off if I just shut my eyes.

  “Oh,” Austin mumbled. “Um, well, I actually was kind of hoping that, um…”

  “Yes?” I asked a little more harshly than I’d meant to. I never was in a good mood right after waking up.

  “Well, we read about this place online,” he explained. “And the people who wrote about it, well, they talked about how you told them some really awesome stories.”

  “Did they?” I asked as I thought back to the day the two backpackers had passed through. They had seemed pretty invested in the story I’d told them.

  “Yeah.” Austin grinned. “Anyway, I actually came over here to ask about that too. If you wouldn’t mind, that is. I don’t want to bother you or anything.”

  The lure of sleep was calling me, but the kid looked so anxious that I didn’t have it in me to turn him down.

  “Alright,” I grumbled as I stood up off my chair. “I suppose one story can’t hurt.”

  “Awesome!” the kid exclaimed.

  I followed him over to the RV where his friends were already waiting and watched as they quickly and expertly built a small fire in something that greatly resembled a stainless steel pot.

  “Alright,” one of the boys said once the fire was flickering. “Who’s got the first story?”

  “I’ve got one,” I suggested. “It’s got horror, and it’s got drugs.”

  “That sounds like my kind of story,” one of the boys cackled.

  I smirked. It was actually their drug-fueled antics that reminded me of this case. Of course, these kids were just having harmless fun, whereas the case I’d been involved in had been anything but.

  “Alright,” I smiled as one of the other boys picked up a guitar and began to add background music to the story. “It all started on a night just a few days before Halloween…”

  1

  Clara Montgomery sighed as she watched her friend trip over her own feet for the third time that night. Clara had just graduated from cosmetology school and received her hairdressing license, and she had invited her girlfriends out for a night in the city to celebrate. She hadn’t anticipated that her friends Melanie and Georgia would get into a shot drinking contest at the first bar they visited. Georgia could hold her liquor. She came from a family of athletes and was naturally tall and very muscular. On the other hand, Melanie was petite and thin and had lost the competition just four shots in.

  “Maybe you should chill with the drinks,” Clara suggested gently as Melanie swayed on her feet and nearly spilled the large plastic cup she was holding. The liquid inside was bright blue. Clara wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it was strong enough that she could smell the acrid scent of alcohol wafting off it.

  “It’s fiiine,” Melanie slurred as she pushed Clara’s hand away from her drink. “It’s Saturday. It’s not like I have work tomorrow!”

  “You’re going to have a killer hangover in the morning,” Yolanda snickered, though she was a bit unsteady on her feet herself.

  Clara smiled ruefully. Somehow, she’d wound up being the soberest of the four girls, even though this was supposed to be her celebration. She didn’t have the heart to be upset, though. She was glad her friends were having a fun night, and she knew that Melanie’s boss had been on her case recently, so she couldn’t blame her for wanting to blow off a little steam.

  “Okay,” Georgia declared as she suddenly came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. “Where to next? Another bar?”

  “Let’s go dancing,” Yolanda suggested. “We passed a nightclub a few blocks back. We could turn around or find another one.”

  “Let’s go watch the fountains at the Bellagio!” Melanie yelled, the alcohol in her system causing her to lose control of her volume. “It’s not that far from here. It’s dark enough that the lights will look so cool right now!”

  Clara pursed her lips as she considered her proposal. The water and light show that ran every fifteen minutes was pretty fun, and it might be a good opportunity to get Melanie to sober up a little.

  “I’ve already seen it,” Georgia frowned. “Look, that sign says there’s a magic show starting in half an hour. Let’s go see that instead.”

  “Why can’t we do both?” Melanie pouted. “Thirty minutes is plenty of time to go to the fountains and back.”

  “No, it’s not,” Georgia refuted. “The show itself is like five minutes long. We’ll be cutting it too close.”

  Clara stepped forward in an attempt to break up the argument. She didn’t want her friends to squabble, especially over something so dumb. Before she could speak up, though, a different voice interrupted their conversation.
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  “Hey, gorgeous,” a tall, thin man crooned, and he sidled in between Georgia and Melanie. “You want to go to the fountains? How about I take you? Let your friends do their thing.”

  “Um, no thanks,” Georgia deadpanned as she shoved the man away with her shoulder, her previous argument with Melanie completely forgotten. “She’s going to stay with us.”

  The man glared at her. Clara thought that he was kind of handsome, but he had stringy, dirty-looking hair, and something about his posture and presence immediately put her on edge.

  “But I want to go see the fountains,” Melanie whined.

  “Yeah, she wants to go see the fountains,” the man repeated with an unsettling smile.

  “You guys go see the magic show, and I’ll meet up with you later,” Melanie mumbled as she attempted to push past Georgia.

  “Mel, stop,” Clara hissed as she gripped her hand around Melanie’s arm to stop her from going. “You don’t even know him.”

  “So what? He’s cute,” Melanie murmured. “It’ll be fine. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  Clara let out a frustrated groan as she gripped her friend tighter.

  “No,” she snapped. “You’re drunk. I’m not gonna let you get murdered because you’re too wasted to see how dumb you’re being. You need to go, sir.”

  “Let me go,” Melanie protested as she attempted to pull her arm free of Clara’s grasp.

  “Hey, what’s your problem?” the man growled as she reached forward to yank Melanie’s arm loose. “She says she wants to go, so why don’t you mind your own business?”

 

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