Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4)

by Matt Lincoln

  “He’s definitely doing better than the guy who was in the car with you,” Junior added. “What was his name?”

  Daly’s expression turned absolutely murderous as he glared at Junior. The passenger that I’d managed to hit when I shot through the windshield had already been dead by the time the paramedics reached us. I really hadn’t been all that broken up about it, but I hadn’t expected Junior of all people to strike below the belt like that.

  “You’ll pay for that,” Daly spat as he exposed his rotted yellow teeth at us in a nasty grimace.

  “Is that right?” Junior mocked. “And who exactly is going to make us pay?”

  “The boss,” Daly growled. “He’ll…”

  “He’ll what?” Junior urged him to continue.

  “No, no, no,” Daly chuckled. “I wasn’t born yesterday. You almost got me talking, I’ll admit that. But you’ll be getting nothing else out of me.”

  Junior sighed in frustration as his tactic fell flat.

  “Was your boss there today?” I asked. Even if he didn’t answer directly, I might learn something from his bad language. “Was he riding in that armored jeep?”

  Daly just stared at me with a blank expression.

  “We’re going to find him, you know,” Junior informed him. “That’s not up for debate, but you can help yourself by speaking to us now. We can tell the judge that you cooperated, or we can tell him that you resisted. It’s up to you.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Daly rolled his eyes. “Do you really expect me to fall for something like that? I always knew we’d be found out eventually, but to think it would be by a pair of air-headed amateurs. Just look at this one, shaking like a wee little lamb.”

  He smirked mockingly at Junior, and I turned to see what he was talking about. To my shock, his arm was actually shaking. He crossed both arms over his chest in an attempt to hide the tremor. I’d need to revisit that later, but I needed to get this interrogation back on track for now.

  “We didn’t find you,” I retorted.

  “What are you on about?” Daly growled.

  “Just what I said,” I replied. “We didn’t find your base. We were led straight to it by someone within your organization. What do you think about that?”

  I was pleased to see Daly’s face go white as he took in my words.

  “That’s impossible,” he muttered. His eyes were blown wide, and his brows knit together in confusion.

  “It’s true,” Junior shrugged. “So maybe you should think twice about being so blindly loyal to whoever it is you’re working for. Obviously, your organization is already falling apart from within. Now’s the time to save yourself.”

  “Go to hell,” Daly sneered. “I’m not some backstabbing traitor. Say whatever you like. The boss will have you two swimming in the River Liffey before the end of the week.”

  “What did you say?” I snapped.

  “I said you’re both as good as dead!” Daly barked. His face was red, and he looked ready to pounce on us.

  “No,” I shook my head slowly. “You said he’d have us swimming in the River Liffey. Why did you say that?”

  “What?” Daly sputtered. “No, I didn’t mean…”

  “That’s an awfully specific threat,” Junior remarked as he caught on to what I was thinking. “Of all the rivers in all of Ireland, you chose one that runs right through the center of Dublin. I wonder if that’s where your boss is.”

  “I’ll kill you!” Daly suddenly screamed as he jumped to his feet, knocking his chair backward onto the ground in the process. I jumped back and braced myself for a fight as I watched Daly run around the side of the table.

  He was a big guy but clearly clumsy and unskilled when it came to hand-to-hand combat. Someone who knew what they were doing wouldn’t just barrel at me like a cannonball. Once he was close enough, he swung his fist at me wildly. I easily dodged it and crouched slightly to get a better angle before tackling him.

  He let out a surprised “oof!” as he toppled to the ground in a heap. I lifted my fist to punch him once, square in the face.

  He cried out in pain and lifted his hands to gingerly touch his nose.

  The next instant, the door to the room burst open, and Murphy and some of the other officers burst inside. Murphy ran to my side and lifted Daly off the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  “That’s enough of that, now,” he chided as he hauled Daly back onto his feet before turning to look at me. “It looked like things were getting a little intense in here. Are you just about finished then?”

  “Yeah, we are,” I nodded. The sudden rush of adrenaline had left my entire body feeling tingly with nowhere to project all that nervous energy. “Thanks for the assist.”

  “Not a problem,” Murphy smiled. “Throw him in the drunk tank, boys.”

  “The drunk tank?” Junior inquired curiously.

  “Ah, right,” Murphy nodded. “The holding cell. We only have one, and we hardly ever use it for anything aside from letting people sober up, so I’m used to calling it that. That does remind me that I need to contact the city Garda to have him transferred. We really can’t keep him in our tiny jail indefinitely, after all.”

  He turned and left then, and Junior and I followed him out toward the police station’s lobby.

  “Marc’s in the bathroom,” Amanda snickered from her seat in the lobby. “Now’s your chance to run if you want to get out of that tour.”

  “I think it’ll be nice,” Junior insisted. “We have to head straight back to Dublin after this. A little more time in the countryside might be nice.”

  “Suit yourself,” Amanda shrugged. “Though I suppose if someone had to pick a little town in the middle of nowhere to visit, Tinahely’s a pretty good choice.”

  I fell into one of the plastic chairs in the lobby as I waited for Officer Felton to return.

  “How’s your arm?” I asked Junior as he took a seat beside me, lowly enough that only he could hear. “It was shaking during the interrogation.”

  “I think I hurt it,” Junior sighed. “Well, hurt it worse. When I dragged Callahan out of the road. It’s been hurting pretty badly since then.”

  He raised his right hand to his left shoulder. I could tell it was still trembling, though it was less obvious than it had been during the interrogation.

  “I’ll be okay,” Junior insisted. “I can make it through this mission. I’m not sure what’ll happen after that, honestly. But you can count on me to see this through.”

  “I know I can,” I assured him.

  “Ah, agents!” Felton exclaimed as he suddenly emerged from the hallway. “Ready to go, then? I’ve got a whole itinerary planned out for you.”

  “Sure,” I smiled despite my extreme trepidation. Honestly, the idea of driving around some tiny village in the middle of nowhere for any length of time sounded awful, but Junior actually seemed excited by the idea, and I figured a little time to relax wouldn’t hurt. “We could use a break about now. Let’s go.”

  Felton beamed as Junior and I stood and followed him out the door. The sun was still high in the sky, and going for a little drive would give Junior time to rest his arm before we resumed our mission. As we settled back into the back of Felton’s patrol car, I slipped my phone out of my pocket to give Wallace a report on everything that had happened.

  21

  Junior

  I was right about the tour not taking very long. Scarcely an hour had passed before we’d seen pretty much the entire town, some parts twice as we doubled back to go in a different direction.

  “Well, that’s about it,” Felton announced as we pulled up to the church at the center of town. It was a large, stark white building with a blood-red door. It was easy to see that the town cared about it very much by how it was well taken care of. “It would have been better if you’d been able to have a walk around town, but I understand that you’re busy.”

  “It was nice,” I responded honestly. “Maybe we’ll come back if we have t
ime at the end of the case.”

  “Well, you’re always welcome.” He smiled. “Can I give you gentlemen a lift anywhere? Your own car took a beating back at the castle, didn’t it?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I responded. “That would be really nice.”

  “Where to?” Felton asked.

  “The hospital,” I responded immediately. “We should check on Callahan before we do anything else. Could we stop back at the police station first, though? We need to pick up the files that the fire department was dropping off.”

  “Alright then.” Felton nodded before pulling away from the church and back onto the road. We were back at the police station in just a few minutes, and I hoped that the files had been dropped off by then.

  I left the car as soon as Felton parked. The tour had been nice and relaxing, but my legs felt cramped after sitting in the back of a patrol car for an hour. My arm was feeling much better, though, fortunately. I shivered as the cold, slightly damp air bit at my skin. I had used my own jacket and sweater as makeshift bandages to stop Callahan’s bleeding, and it was just cool enough that walking around in just a plain undershirt was uncomfortable.

  I felt the tension easing out of my shoulders as I stepped into the police station and was hit with a wave of warm air.

  “Hello there, agent,” Murphy greeted as he looked up at me. “How was your tour, then?”

  “It was nice,” I replied, unable to keep the chatter out of my teeth as I spoke.

  “Poor thing,” Amanda snickered as she stood up from her chair and walked briskly into a backroom. She’d been sitting in the exact same position when we’d left, and I wondered if she’d even moved in that entire time.

  The door opened behind me again as Felton and Charlie stepped inside.

  “You ran in here like someone lit a fire under you, lad,” Felton remarked.

  “Well, just look at him,” Amanda scoffed as she walked back into the room holding a bundle of black cloth. “Poor kid must be freezing.”

  She handed me the bundle, and I realized as I unraveled it that it was actually a sweatshirt with “Tinahely Garda” printed across the front of it in blocky white letters.

  “Thank you,” I breathed in relief as I pulled the sweatshirt over my head.

  “Ah, sorry about that,” Murphy frowned. “I forget you Americans aren’t used to the weather here. It never gets very hot even during the summer months, so we’re all accustomed to the cold.”

  “It’s fine,” I assured him. “It wasn’t unbearable or anything. I definitely appreciate the sweatshirt, though.”

  “No problem.” Amanda smiled before sitting back down in the same chair and refocusing on her phone.

  “Anyway,” Charlie interjected. “We just stopped by to ask about the files the fire department was supposed to drop off. Are they here yet?”

  “They’re not, actually,” Murphy frowned. “I completely forgot about that. Let me just give them a call. Old Brody must have let it slip his mind.”

  I watched as Murphy dialed a number on his phone. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Including the tour, it had been two hours since we left the castle. Surely the files should have been here by now?

  “Ah, Brody,” Murphy chirped into the phone. “I was just calling to ask about those files the federal agents asked you lot to bring by.”

  I watched with growing trepidation as the jolly smile slowly slipped off his face.

  “What do you mean you lost them?!” He bellowed into the phone. “How in blazes did you lose two entire filing cabinets? Brody, don’t give me that. What? I don’t understand. What do you mean, ‘stop asking questions,’ Brody? Hello? Brody? That cheeky bugger hung up on me!”

  Murphy glared angrily at his phone, and I turned to look at Charlie.

  “What did you mean when you said ‘stop asking questions,’ Murphy?” Charlie asked cautiously. “What was he saying?”

  “He said that they lost the filing cabinets,” Murphy growled. “Then he told me that I shouldn’t be asking questions I don’t want to hear the answers to. What is that supposed to mean? Then the rude old geezer hung up on me.”

  “We need to go speak with him,” I declared. “Felton, could you give us a ride there?”

  “Of course,” he replied. There was a troubled look in his eyes as he led us out the door and into the car. The town was small enough that we were at the fire station just a few minutes later.

  “Officer Murphy mentioned something about a Brody,” I stated as Felton pulled into one of the parking spaces outside of the fire station. “Is that the name of the fire chief?”

  “Yes,” Felton muttered in response. “His name is Brody O’Neil. Hold on just a moment, agents.”

  Charlie and I both ceased in our rush to leave the car and turned to look at him.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlie asked.

  Felton looked conflicted as he opened and closed his mouth several times, as though he couldn’t find the right words to say

  “Ah, nothing,” he finally answered. “I’ll wait for you here, then.”

  I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread sinking into my gut as I stepped out of the car. Felton had clearly wanted to say something but had talked himself out of it at the last moment. Why? What exactly did he know that we didn’t?

  I kept my guard up as I entered the small fire station. The door opened into a tiny office and reception area, and I could see the garage that housed the trucks through a set of large windows against the office wall.

  “Hello,” a young man with long blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail greeted us as we entered the office. “Can I help you?”

  “We need to speak to Chief O’Neil,” Charlie responded coldly.

  “He’s busy now, I think,” the young man replied nervously.

  “I’m sure he is,” Charlie retorted sarcastically. “We entrusted this fire department with some important pieces of evidence, and it somehow managed to disappear in the span of a few hours. I need to speak with him now.”

  “He’s not available now,” the young man replied, though I could see he was intimidated by Charlie.

  “It’s alright, Devin,” an older man announced as he entered the room through a door behind the desk. “Go on back and help the other guys get dinner ready. I’ll take it from here.”

  Devin looked incredibly relieved at the opportunity to escape the situation and nodded before scurrying off through the same door.

  “Chief O’Neil, I presume?” Charlie deadpanned.

  “That’s me,” the man replied just as coldly. “I’m assuming you're the cowboy federal agent from America who ignored my firefighters and rushed into a smoldering building?”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” Charlie replied without a hint of remorse. I was nervous about how hostile this interaction was getting. “I found a pretty important bit of evidence while I was in there, too. A set of filing cabinets almost as big as me that I asked your men to bring to the fire station. We just learned that you lost them, somehow. In the span of just two hours.”

  “The Tinahely Fire Department is not your personal delivery service,” O’Neil sneered.

  “Cut the crap!” Charlie snapped angrily. “What kind of game are you playing? If you’re mad at me for disobeying your man’s orders, then take it out on me. All you’re doing is protecting a group that’s led to over a dozen deaths already.”

  “This is no game, agent,” O’Neil hissed as he looked around the room nervously. “And it isn’t my intention to hinder your case. But I’m afraid my hands are tied.”

  A chill ran down my spine as I realized what he was implying.

  “Are you being threatened?” I asked quietly.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know,” O’Neil sighed. “I’ve been around long enough to understand the way things work and that sometimes it’s better to just look the other way.”

  “Speak plainly,” Charlie barked. “Cut the crap and tell us what you’re talking about.”


  “The walls have ears,” he muttered as she glanced around again. “You’d best learn to control that temper, agent. You’ll step out of line one day and find yourself in deep trouble. In any case, this meeting is done. Please see yourselves out.”

  “Hey, we’re not finished here!” Charlie called, but O’Neil was already slamming the door shut behind him. We stood in silence for a few seconds before Charlie groaned in frustration and stormed out of the fire station.

  Felton was quiet as we climbed back into the car.

  “Shall I drop you at the hospital now, then?” he asked. There was a smile on his face, but it was strained, and I could tell he was uncomfortable about something.

  “Sure,” I replied. The ride was uncomfortably silent, in stark contrast to the relaxed and lighthearted drive we’d gone on earlier as he showed us around the town. The hospital wasn’t actually located in Tinahely but in a larger town about fifteen minutes away, so the drive seemed to stretch on forever.

  “Thank you,” I said softly when we finally pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.

  “Of course,” Felton replied. “And don’t forget to come back any time you’d like. You’re always welcome.”

  Somehow, his words just didn’t seem sincere. I couldn’t dwell on it, though. We needed to check on Callahan and speak with Seamus. Maybe he’d know something about why Felton and the police chief had suddenly begun to act so strangely.

  I stepped out of the car and watched Felton pull away and drive back onto the main road. The feeling that we were on the outside of a critical secret lingered, and I couldn’t shake the paranoia I felt as we stepped into the hospital.

  22

  Charlie

  “He’s stable, finally,” Seamus informed us as we took a seat in a small waiting room near Callahan’s hospital room. “It was difficult to tell for a while there. He lost a lot of blood, after all. Those monsters riddled him with bullet holes, but good old Callahan pulled through. I always knew he would. There’s no way he’d die and leave me alone. Who would be around to tell me off then?”