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

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