Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4) by Matt Lincoln (short books for teens .TXT) 📕

horrifying for me to accept, though, so I did my best to banish the thought as I returned to the kitchen to speak with Charlie see what Wallace wanted us to do next.

6

Miranda

Naomi and I had gone down to the police station to speak with the cops about what was going on. So far, it didn’t seem like anything was connecting the cases aside from the fact that all the attackers had suddenly gone nuts without any warning or provocation. There was always a chance that we’d notice something they’d missed, though, so we needed to review precisely what had gone down in each case. So far, we hadn’t learned anything new.

“It seems as though no one had any real motive,” Naomi sighed as we looked over the case files with one of the investigators assigned to the case. We had set up our things in one of the conference rooms along with the Detective that had been assigned to the original attack on the Strip, a man named Daniel Grover. Detective Grover seemed like a nice guy and had patiently gone over everything with us and answered every question we had.

“That appears to be the case,” Grover agreed as he flipped through the case files as though new information would suddenly appear there. “In almost every case, the perpetrator suddenly began acting aggressively, and in half the cases, they attacked complete strangers. It’s pretty obvious that drugs were the main cause of their erratic behavior. We did observe a curious change, though.”

“What do you mean?” I asked as I flipped the manila folder I was holding shut. I was so used to the ease of the tablets we used at the MBLIS office that I couldn’t imagine why they hadn’t yet upgraded from paper.

“We initially thought that the attacks began a month ago,” he explained. “After further investigation, though, we realized that there was a slew of similar attacks three months ago. The police didn’t initially make the connection because the attacks from three months ago were all perpetrated by drug addicts. It was brushed off as being an unfortunate consequence of abusing drugs.”

“But now you think it’s related?” Naomi asked.

“Yes,” Grover confirmed as he shuffled through some of the files he was holding. He plucked one from the pile and slid it across the table toward us. “The MO is identical to the other cases. What’s peculiar is the month-long gap between the cases. First, we have a cluster of violent attacks perpetrated by drug addicts, then a lull, and then suddenly, we see the same thing occurring within ordinary people. It made sense when drug-fueled crimes were happening among people who regularly abuse drugs but among normal folks? That’s strange, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Naomi nodded as she glanced through the case files. From what I could see, they did seem similar to the ones we were currently investigating. “Do you think the attacks that broke out among the drug addicts were some kind of trial run? It wouldn’t be the first time that vulnerable populations were targeted or used as guinea pigs.”

“That’s one possibility,” Grover nodded, though I could tell by the frown on his face that he was unconvinced. “There’s more, though. Almost all the perpetrators are dead now. Although some of them were killed by police officers during their altercations, the majority just died on their own, apparently of an overdose. What’s odd about that is that we could not find any signs of drug use on any of the corpses. No needle marks or bruising, so we aren’t even sure how the drugs got into their systems.”

“It almost sounds like some kind of terrorist attack,” I suggested. “Drug people to the point that they go crazy and cause havoc, then they’re either killed by police or keel over on their own. Great way to cause a lot of damage and fear without ever lifting a finger.”

“I certainly hope that’s not the case,” Grover frowned. “If the ultimate goal here is just to cause as much terror and panic as possible, then it’s unlikely we’ll be able to reason with the culprit responsible for all this.”

I felt a chill run through me at his words. He was right. Typically, terrorists couldn’t be reasoned with. All they wanted was to cause destruction, so there was usually nothing the authorities could do to convince them to stop.

“It also ensures that few traces are left behind,” Naomi sighed. “If all the perpetrators die after their attacks, then there’s no way for us to speak to them to figure out what happened in the time leading up to the incident.”

“We do have one surviving attacker,” Grover corrected her. “Her name is Simone Montague. We didn’t connect her case to the rest until this morning, when we started seeing similarities between all the separate attacks, but the pattern is there. She’s a thirty-two-year-old housewife who suddenly attacked her two young children. Her husband claims that she was acting unusually right before the attack. She was in a coma for a few days, but she’s awake now, at Sunrise Hospital.”

“We should go see her as soon as possible.” Naomi glanced at me. “She might be able to tell us where she got the drugs.”

“I agree.” I nodded as I gathered up the folders to hand them back to Grover.

“Alright,” Grover replied as he stood up, the metal chair he was sitting in grinding across the ground with a squeak. “I’ll give the hospital a call and let them know to expect you.”

“Thank you,” I responded as I got up as well. “And thanks for all the information, as well.”

“Not a problem,” he smiled. “I’ll let you know if we find anything substantial that we believe might help with your investigation. And feel free to contact me if you need anything as well.”

I thanked him once more before making my way out of the conference room and back toward the police station’s lobby with Naomi in tow. I was hopeful that