Kingston Kidnappings (What Happens In Vegas Book 3) by Matt Lincoln (classic books for 10 year olds txt) 📕

toward the hotel where Joseph was supposed to be waiting with the car. I was a little perturbed by how cooperative he was now that we’d caught him. Typically suspects who went through so much trouble to get away didn’t just give up like this. Unless they had something up their sleeve, of course. I eyed the man suspiciously as we made it back to the car, nervous about what he might be hiding.

28

Charlie

“The man who was shot is doing fine,” Tucker informed us. “He was in pain, of course, but the doctor said he should make a full recovery. Of course, the police will be covering any medical expenses. Thankfully for us, he didn’t seem very upset about it and even joked about how he’ll be able to tell his friends he was involved in an international arrest.”

“That’s good,” I nodded.

We were sitting in the waiting room of a hospital while Patel got patched up. The suspect actually had broken her nose with the punch he’d thrown at her. By the time we’d made it to the hospital, her entire shirt had been soaked red with blood. The staff in the emergency room had rushed straight over upon seeing her. While she was rushed into the hospital, I’d walked down to the corner to buy her a t-shirt from one of the street vendors. It wasn’t her style, possibly not even her size, but at least it wasn’t covered in blood.

“As for the suspect, I have some information,” Tucker continued. “We ran his fingerprints, and he is, in fact, Usain Davis. He hasn’t said a word since he was brought in, insisting that he will only speak to you.”

“He knows what we’re here for,” I remarked. “He’s committed an international crime. He probably wants to speak to us so we can get straight to the point. Maybe he thinks we’ll cut him a deal if he cooperates.”

“No,” Tucker shook his head. “I don’t mean the two of you. I mean you, specifically.”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my brow in confusion.

“You’re Agent Hills, right?” Tucker asked.

I nodded.

“That’s what he said,” he shrugged. “He wanted to speak with Charlie Hills.”

I frowned at that. Why was the suspect asking for me by name? I didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as a moment later, Patel finally emerged from down the hall.

“What a pain,” she groused. “This is the last thing I needed right now.” There was a thick medical bandage stretched over the bridge of her nose, and I could see faint bruises were already beginning to form under her eyes.

“Are you okay to continue the case?” I asked.

“I am,” she responded. “I can’t really breathe right now, but I’m not on my deathbed or anything. Is the suspect ready? We should head down to the station as soon as possible.”

“He is,” I nodded. “Tucker says they’ve confirmed it is Davis. Apparently, he also asked for me.”

“What do you mean he asked for you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

“He asked for me,” I shrugged. “I got you a shirt, by the way, so you don’t have to keep wearing that one.” I reached into the plastic bag I was holding and handed her the t-shirt.

“Thank you,” she replied as she took the shirt from me. “That’s peculiar. In that case, we should definitely go see what he wants. I’ve had a bad feeling he was up to something ever since we managed to apprehend him.”

“I agree,” Tucker chimed in. “He’s acting strangely. I’ve had suspects put up ‘tough guy’ acts before, but something about this one was very unsettling.”

“Let’s go then,” I nodded before turning to Patel. “We can wait for you to change before we leave.”

“No need,” she replied submissively as she pulled the t-shirt on over her blouse. “It’s fine like this. I don’t really have anywhere to put my other shirt, anyway.”

I’d bought her a small, but it still seemed big on her. Blocky blue and yellow letters spelled out ‘Carnival’ over a plain white backdrop. The cheerful font seemed very out of place in contrast to her serious expression.

Tucker drove us over to the police station, which was only about ten minutes from the hospital. It was a small, plain white building with a blue door and window sills. It seemed, oddly, like an unfitting location for such a virulent criminal to be held. We were far enough away from the center of town now that, as I stepped out of the car, I could no longer hear the sounds of the festival. Instead, I was greeted by the sound of birds chirping as a warm ocean breeze blew past me. It was peaceful, and it was hard to imagine that just a few feet away sat a man who’d wreaked such havoc and misery on so many people’s lives.

Tucker led us into the police station.

“Hey, man,” he greeted the officer at the front desk. “Got the federal agents here. Is Davis ready?”

“Yeah, I think he is,” the officer behind the desk responded. “He should be in the third interrogation room. The one by the conference room.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tucker waved him off. “I know where it is. I’ll catch you later, okay? We still hitting the festival after work?”

“That’s the plan,” the other man smiled.

“Alright,” Tucker nodded. “Come on this way, agents. Interrogation room three is just down this way. It’s the only one with a two-way mirror. We thought you might like that one.”

“You thought correctly,” Patel confirmed. “It’s always better to have an extra set of eyes and ears where the suspect can’t see.”

“I hear you,” Tucker nodded as he led us to the room. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and used one to open the door. We stepped inside, and I could see Davis on the other side of the two-way glass. His attitude was similar to Jackson’s when I’d interrogated him earlier. His posture was relaxed, and he had an easy-going sneer on his