Page 102 of Chasing Kaylee Kringle

Ansel watched her, his expression dark, but it was his eyes, the possessive way he tracked Kaylee’s every movement, that made Rick’s blood run cold, and he wanted to kill the bastard with his bare hands. Especially when he noticed Rick’s arm around Kaylee’s waist and that cool expression fell for a millisecond, revealing the rage underneath. Before Rick could blink, Ansel was back to grinning maliciously.

“Then I guess I’ll be seeing you soon, Kaylee.”

Rick wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as they walked away. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Chapter Fifty

Rick

Ahalf dozen government SUVs pulled in with lights and sirens blaring twenty-five minutes later. The passenger door of the first SUV opened, and his boss, Scott, stepped out in a white T-shirt and a blue FBI vest. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut short, and as he crossed the lawn to meet Rick, he held out his hand, grinning.

“You’ve done amazing work here, Agent.”

Rick took his hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you. I thought you wouldn’t get here.”

“I took a flight to Idaho Falls and caught a ride with them.”

“I’m glad. I feel like this is a win we all needed to see.”

“Agreed. Seems like you got this thing all locked in,” he said, sweeping his other hand out, indicating the rows of bikers practically hog-tied across the snowy grass. “We’d better get them out of the cold and into the vans before they start complaining about cruel and unusual punishment.”

“I’ll be happy when they’re being transported out of town and away from the civilians.” Rick nodded toward their vehicles, which were still parked in the square. “They showed up with some heavy artillery, so that—on top of racketeering and the other charges—will keep them tied up for a bit. I bet the DEA would love a piece of them.”

“They probably would, but this is our bust.” Scott whistled at an agent lingering by one of the SUVs. “Hey, bring some blankets over here.”

The man nodded.

“I just didn’t want to drag them into the church only to haul them back out when you got here. Especially since we can’t get the stink bomb smell out.”

Scott chuckled. “Stink bomb, huh?”

“Yes, sir. I’m glad I don’t have the job of airing the place out.”

“Pretty ingenious,” Scott murmured, his expression admiring. “You came up with this plan?”

“The whole town contributed nonlethal strategies to take them down. Stink bombs, paintball guns, and we even had a tranq gun in case things took a turn. I was honestly surprised at how smoothly it went.”

“Hey now,” Scott admonished him, wincing. “Don’t you know not to jinx yourself?”

Rick chuckled. “Unless you have a bomb attached to one of your vans and the bad guys have another swarm of men coming in, I think we’re good.”

More transport vehicles pulled in, and the agents started gathering up the prisoners. They cut the ties on the Vipers’ feet so that they could walk them to the vans, and Rick was proud to see agents shaking hands with civilians and the small-town cops of Holiday, thanking them for their service.

Suddenly, a red Mustang pulled into an empty space in front of the inn, and three men exited the vehicle. Rick and Scott turned toward them, watching them stop and stare with wide-eyed fixation.

“What the fuck is going on?” the tall man with brown hair asked.

“Damn it, Pike, what have you gotten us into?” griped the one in the ball cap, punching the shortest of the trio.

“I thought it could be a fun stop! It says there’s a giant potato statue they decorate—”

“And an FBI sting operation?” Ball Cap countered.

The brown-haired man shook his head. “This is something out of The Hangover. I bet there’s a tiger in the closet when we get to the room.”

“What do you want me to do?” Pike asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I already booked the room.”

“Gentlemen,” Rick called out, and all three spun his way. “Either go inside or get the fuck out of here. These are all dangerous men, and the last thing we need is one of them escaping and killing you for your car.”