Page 103 of Chasing Kaylee Kringle

“Absolutely, officer, thank you.” The brown-haired man grabbed Pike by his jacket and hauled him toward the front of the inn while he clicked his fob.

The car beeped, lights flashing, as the man in the ball cap trailed behind, muttering, “Whose idea was it to let Pike plan his own bachelor party?”

When the men were safely inside, Scott turned to Rick, rubbing his hands together. “Where is Ansel? I can’t wait to see that smug son of a bitch’s face after he hears we cleared out the clubhouse.”

“You did?” Joy rushed through him, waiting for Scott to go on, and when he didn’t, Rick prodded, “What did you find?”

“We got a warrant and found maps leading to their labs. Once those are shut down, we’ll start interrogating his men. We’ll find out where the rest of the bodies are buried, but as of now, we have enough to put Ansel and most of them away for life.”

“What about the man who attacked Kaylee?”

Scott grimaced. “He took quite the beating and is still in a medically induced coma, but when he wakes up, he’ll face additional charges of assault, attempted abduction, and intimidating a witness. Trust me, he’ll be lucky to get out while he still has all his teeth.”

“How did you know where to find the labs?”

“They didn’t find one of the bugs, so we overheard two of the men talking about restarting the kitchen on Thyme Road.” Scott clapped him on the back. “Trust me, the charges are going to stick. With the amount of firepower that I’m sure will kick back illegal, this is just the tip of the iceberg. If it hadn’t been for Ansel’s obsession with finding Kaylee, we would still be sitting on our hands.” Scott squeezed his shoulder before releasing him. “Now, where is the man of the hour?”

“He’s at the back of the crowd. Come on.” Rick led him around the group, and they stepped through the bodies to where Ansel was zip-tied. The closer they got, the harder Rick’s heart started to pound.

He wasn’t there.

Rick frowned, looked around, and called out to Paulette. “Hey, where’s Ansel? The guy who was sitting back here? Did they already haul him into the back of a car?”

“No, not that I saw,” she hollered back.

Rick’s heart slammed painfully against his breastbone, the blood pounding in his ears to the point where he couldn’t hear what Scott was saying.

Without warning, he took off running for Kaylee’s house, jumping over prone prisoners and picking up speed when he hit the pavement. Scott shouted his name, but he ignored him, pumping his arms and legs as fast as he could go. Had Ansel merely pretended to be tied up, or had he gotten loose from his restraints? How much of a head start did he have? Had he followed Kaylee, or was he still looking for her?

Rick pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Kaylee, but it just rang and went to voicemail.

Fucking son of a bitch.

Rick called Josie, and she picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“Is Kaylee with you?” he asked, his voice hoarse and breathy.

“No, she went home. She wanted to take a shower. Why?”

“It’s Ansel. He’s not here.”

“What?”

“Ansel escaped, and he’s coming for her! Ansel is coming for Kaylee.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Kaylee

Kaylee walked into her house, emotionally and physically drained, and dropped her jacket on the back of the couch. The adrenaline had left her body a long time ago, and now she just wanted to sit under a stream of hot water and let it wash away the terror from the last two years.

Pumpkin started making his annoyed, chattering sound, and Kaylee frowned, approaching his cage. “It’s just me, buddy. What’s wrong with you?” She opened his enclosure and set up his stairs, watching him stomp his feet at the top.

“Dang, someone woke up on the wrong side of the hammock today. Are you hungry?” She walked away from the angry guinea pig, laughing. “Of course you are. When are you not hungry?”

Kaylee took a step into the kitchen and noticed the man sitting at her dining room table, eating an apple without a care in the world. The room tilted on its axis when she recognized Ansel, not in zip ties or glaring at her from the ground like a defeated animal, but like a cat who finally caught his canary.