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

commotion from the crowd outside and realized that he was grappling with a suspect on the roof of the building. I couldn’t let my focus drain like that again.

There were still several hours until we were supposed to meet with Seamus at the police station, and I wondered what I should do until then. I picked my phone up from the bedside table where I’d left it after my call with Fiona and realized I had a couple of missed texts from Charlie.

Hey, you up? (8:16)

I’m going to go get a souvenir for Amber. Call me if something happens. (8:57)

I frowned in disappointment that I’d missed his texts. Even though he’d come around and started hanging out with the other agents and me more in the past year we’d all been working together, he still wasn’t a very social person. I was a little upset that I’d missed an opportunity to hang out with him doing something not work-related.

I liked the idea of getting a souvenir, too. I knew that it wasn’t the same as actually getting to go on a mission in person, but maybe getting something for Fiona would cheer her up and give her the courage to talk to Wallace about it again.

I went to put on my jacket but stopped short when I remembered that I didn’t have it anymore. I’d used it to apply pressure to Callahan’s injuries back when we’d been ambushed at the castle. I glanced out the window and sighed sadly when I saw that droplets of rain were still tapping gently against the window. It wasn’t an intense downpour or anything, but still enough that it would make walking around unenjoyable.

I threw on the only other thing I had, a thin gray hoodie, and headed out of my hotel room. If I was going to go shopping anyway, then maybe I should just buy a new jacket, too. It would make a nice souvenir, and if the rain kept up, it would be a wise investment for the rest of my time in Ireland.

The streets were filled with people bustling about as they got ready for that evening’s celebrations. Even though it was the middle of the day, there were already children in costumes running up and down the street knocking on doors and demanding candy. I guessed that made sense. If there was going to be a big parade later, it probably wouldn’t be safe or feasible for children to walk around freely then.

I smiled as I watched a boy in a bright blue dinosaur costume waddle past, clutching his older sister’s hand. She was dressed as some kind of futuristic fairy. She was wearing giant pink wings and had a shiny, reflective jumpsuit on. I really couldn’t tell what it was, and I wondered if it was a character on some kids’ show I’d never heard of.

Seamus had mentioned that northern Dublin was a high-crime area, but it seemed safe enough considering children were roaming around unsupervised. There was no way that would happen in Las Vegas or even the suburban neighborhood in Phoenix, Arizona that I’d grown up in.

There were so many shops and restaurants around me that I felt overwhelmed by the choices immediately. I spotted a small storefront decorated with bright green t-shirts with “Dublin” printed across the front and ducked into it on a whim. If they had t-shirts, then maybe they would have jackets, too.

They did have jackets, along with every other kitschy, touristy thing imaginable. Bright green coffee mugs covered in four-leaf clovers, every article of clothing you could think of with either “Dublin” or “Ireland” or both printed somewhere on it, and shelves upon shelves full of little sheep and leprechaun figurines.

“Good morning!” the woman behind the register called out cheerfully as soon as she noticed me. “How can I help you?”

I actually wasn’t sure that I wanted anything so tacky and obviously touristy, but the woman’s smile was so broad and genuine that I didn’t have the heart to turn her down directly.

“I was just looking,” I smiled sheepishly.

“Of course,” the stout woman beamed. “Was there something in particular that you wanted? Don’t be shy, now. Old Myrtle’s got everything you need.”

“Oh, well, something for my girlfriend, I guess,” I replied. Now that I thought about it, Fiona was really into cutesy stuff. She might actually like one of the little sheep figures.

“Oh, well, I’m afraid I haven’t got any diamond rings or things of that nature,” the woman laughed. My shock at her words must have shown clearly on my face because she burst out laughing even harder.

“I’m just pulling your leg, lad,” she chuckled. “You young people are so fun to tease. Now let me see, what kind of girl is she, your lass?”

“Oh, well…” I stuttered. Myrtle was clearly a good saleswoman. I’d just told her a few seconds ago that I was just looking, and now, somehow, she was helping me pick out a gift. “She likes computer games.”

“Computer games?” Myrtle repeated with a huff. “Well, I haven’t got anything like that in my shop. Though I do think I have some mouse pads. Just a moment, love.”

I watched as she turned away from me and cupped her hands over her mouth.

“Billy!” she screamed toward the back of the store. “Have we got any more of those mouse pads?”

“Which ones?” a muffled male voice called back. I stood, transfixed and a little embarrassed by what was happening.

“The ones with the shamrocks on them!” Myrtle called back just as loudly.

“The what?” the voice from before screamed back.

I was about to insist that it was alright and that I could just choose something else, but she screamed again before I could open my mouth.

“The. Sham. Rocks!” She enunciated every syllable as she called out to whoever was in the back of the store.

“Oh,” the voice responded. “Nah, we’ve only got the leprechaun ones left!”

“Oh, now that won’t do,” Myrtle sighed, suddenly speaking at an appropriate volume again. “Those ugly