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“Griff listened to the recording, and he thinks it’s clear enough… the lingo is well known. As soon as we get our bags, he’ll call into his SAC. I need Dozer to go into the office and download the recordings from my server for them. The information won’t be admissible in a criminal trial, but it’s absolutely enough for them to watch and listen when it goes down. They’ll be able to move in as soon as the exchange happens. It’s going down tomorrow night. Hold on… Griff wants to talk to you.”
“Bebe fill you in on everything?” he asks as he joins the conversation.
“She said it’s going down tomorrow,” Kynan says.
“That’s right.”
“Like, he’ll be arrested tomorrow night?” I ask, completely stunned. I mean, we all figured he was dirty and something was happening, but we didn’t expect anything to happen this fast.
“If he follows through with what he’s got planned, yes. The feds will arrest him as soon as he receives the money.”
“They’ll seize his assets?” Kellen asks.
“The dogs,” I exclaim. “What will they do with the dogs?”
“Probably local animal control,” Griff replies.
“They’re not equipped.” I look at Kellen, gripping his hand. “It’s going to take massive coordination.”
“What kind of coordination?” Kynan asks.
“Veterinary care, medicine, behavioral evaluations, foster homes, adoption coordination. There are at least a few hundred dogs on his property. Animal control cannot handle it.”
“And you can?” Kynan asks.
“Not single-handedly,” I reply, “but I can manage all the components.”
“I’ve got contacts at the county level I’ll reach out to after Griff gets things in place.”
“And we’ll let the US attorney’s office know as well,” Griff adds on. “Technically, the dogs are property and thus assets, but I can’t imagine they won’t let efforts get underway to care for and rehome them.”
I’m afraid to voice the words, but I don’t need to. Kellen says them.
“And we’re going to bring Princess home.”
CHAPTER 21
Kellen
“It’s almost seven,” Abby grumbles as she paces the living room. The early-morning sun warms the floor underfoot as the new pup, who we’ve named Roscoe, follows behind her. “Why haven’t we heard anything?”
Why, indeed?
The sting was supposed to go down last night. Bebe’s intelligence didn’t say what time, but Griff said there would be a large team in place, ready to move in when it happened.
But while Jameson Force Security may have been the catalyst for all this to happen, we are in no way involved once the FBI takes over. They are not beholden to us for updates or explanations. They could’ve taken Hellman into custody hours ago, and they don’t owe us even a thank-you.
Of course, if Griff were here, I think he would update us, but as it stands, he’s on his honeymoon, and I’m not about to bother him with this. Not only is it disrespectful, but he’s a big dude—I expect he’d kick my ass upon his return.
“Kellen,” Abby says in exasperation, “are you even listening to me?”
“No.” My tone is biting, even sarcastic, as I move into the kitchen for another cup of coffee. “You’ve said the same thing over and over for the last three hours.”
“Ouch,” she mutters, then flops onto the couch. Roscoe puts his front paws on her leg and she lifts him to her lap. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”
Sighing, I pour another cup, knowing it’s going to make me super jittery, but I got no sleep last night. Neither did Abby, for that matter.
I walk back into the living room, step over Bubba snoozing by the love seat, and sit next to Abby. Roscoe chews on her fingers as she pets him.
He’s fucking adorable, and I’m glad we kept him. The other four got parceled out to Kynan, Ladd, Cage, and Corinne, and I expect we’ll have dog playdates in the future.
Leaning over, I kiss Abby’s neck and kick my feet onto the coffee table. “I’m not sure they would have alerted us if there was an arrest. I’d think they’d wait until he was processed and interviewed, assuming he’ll talk.”
“I hate to give the asshole credit, but he’s probably too smart to talk. He’ll lawyer up.”
“Maybe,” I agree, taking a sip and then setting the cup on the side table. “But there’s always a chance he has information he can use to cut a deal. While he might be trafficking women, there’s no way he’s at the top of this. A middleman, at best.”
“What does that mean?” Abby asks, rolling her head on the cushion to look at me.
I shrug. “He’ll cut a deal if he’s got good info that will lead to a bigger bust.”
“He won’t go to jail?” She sits up, her eyes wild with worry. Roscoe uses the opportunity to bite her on the chin, but she holds him back with the practiced efficiency of a veterinarian who knows how to manage a wriggly animal. “He could be free to—”