Read Online Blow Me Away (Seven Tribesmen Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Evelyn Glass - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Evelyn Glass
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her lip, as she barely masked a wince. “But a couple of the prostitutes in Fairview said the Spikes were working for the Demons.”
Stella closed her eyes and shook her head. She resisted the urge to growl out her irritation. Bishop was digging himself into a deep, murky hole. One that she couldn't haul him out of if it all came crashing down. That wasn't any of her concern though. He was a criminal, a gang member, a problematic individual. If he got in her way, or even got tangled up with the gangs, she would do her job.
Stella couldn't shake her worries. She turned her gaze to Agent Grant, cocking an eyebrow as she asked, “What's this mean for the 7T?”
Agent Grant shook her head. She stepped into the office, shutting the door firmly behind her. She spoke softly, “Depends on why the Spikes are here. Maybe they want to push through Grand River?”
“Bishop is against dealing.” The words shot out of her mouth before her mental auditor could balance them out. Heat flared in her stomach at the mere thought of Bishop getting his hands dirty with drug s— especially after his insistence that he was against drugs. Stella couldn't tell if the burn in her guts was indignation or rage.
“I've seen money change some pretty determined heads,” Agent Grant replied. Her lips twisted into a confounded line of sympathy and distaste. Stella bit her bottom lip, wondering how her new partner now saw her. Did Agent Grant finally get the real picture between Bishop and Stella? Was there ever any doubt? Would she report Stella to the higher-ups when all was said and done?
Stella's eyes drifted to the papers on her desk. She had gleaned over the majority of the statements, picking out key points and scribbling them in a notebook off to the side. So far, the prostitutes all had similar stories: they worked as strippers; the Demons sometimes delegated them to prostitution; their johns were usually dangerous men or men with deep pockets; on occasion, drugs were involved. They all sounded like they were in similar positions as Delilah Sampson.
If it was a mass cover-up, it was being done on an epic scale. Stella couldn't bring her eyes to Agent Grant as she asked, “What do you think our next move should be?”
She sat gently down in one of the chairs opposite of Stella. Awkward tension sifted through the air, but it seemed to ease just slightly. “Did you have a chance to read over the statements?”
“Yes, looks like this delivery truck will take the highway up this Thursday.” Stella folded some of the papers over, refreshing her memory. Her eyes skimmed over a map, on which yellow highlighter traced along the delivery route. The fluorescent yellow line ended near the edge of Bellevue. Just next door, Grand River squatted. Stella stomach churned, slightly. “Question is do we intercept it in-transit or at the bakery?”
“At the bakery. Then, we can pin the Spikes,” suggested Agent Grant, with a half-shrug.
There was an unspoken insinuation to her sentence. ..and the Seven Tribesmen. Stella's mouth became dry, and her synapses couldn't let go of the friendly biker meeting going on right now. What was Bishop doing? Was he trying to mess up the investigation?
Stella's brain operated on autopilot, as a huge problem plopped into her head. “We don't have a warrant.”
“We do, actually.” Agent Grant's eyebrows dipped down in a confused valley. She craned her neck to see the statements she had delivered earlier. “I wrote a quick memo on the top page for you.”
“Huh.” Stella's eyebrows furrowed as flipped through her papers. She couldn't find any scrawled notes on her copies. If Agent Grant saw her note, she didn't say anything. Shaking her head, Stella chalked it up to a mistake on Agent Grant's part. A small voice at the back of Stella's mind whined unhappily.
Stella closed her eyes and shook her head. She resisted the urge to growl out her irritation. Bishop was digging himself into a deep, murky hole. One that she couldn't haul him out of if it all came crashing down. That wasn't any of her concern though. He was a criminal, a gang member, a problematic individual. If he got in her way, or even got tangled up with the gangs, she would do her job.
Stella couldn't shake her worries. She turned her gaze to Agent Grant, cocking an eyebrow as she asked, “What's this mean for the 7T?”
Agent Grant shook her head. She stepped into the office, shutting the door firmly behind her. She spoke softly, “Depends on why the Spikes are here. Maybe they want to push through Grand River?”
“Bishop is against dealing.” The words shot out of her mouth before her mental auditor could balance them out. Heat flared in her stomach at the mere thought of Bishop getting his hands dirty with drug s— especially after his insistence that he was against drugs. Stella couldn't tell if the burn in her guts was indignation or rage.
“I've seen money change some pretty determined heads,” Agent Grant replied. Her lips twisted into a confounded line of sympathy and distaste. Stella bit her bottom lip, wondering how her new partner now saw her. Did Agent Grant finally get the real picture between Bishop and Stella? Was there ever any doubt? Would she report Stella to the higher-ups when all was said and done?
Stella's eyes drifted to the papers on her desk. She had gleaned over the majority of the statements, picking out key points and scribbling them in a notebook off to the side. So far, the prostitutes all had similar stories: they worked as strippers; the Demons sometimes delegated them to prostitution; their johns were usually dangerous men or men with deep pockets; on occasion, drugs were involved. They all sounded like they were in similar positions as Delilah Sampson.
If it was a mass cover-up, it was being done on an epic scale. Stella couldn't bring her eyes to Agent Grant as she asked, “What do you think our next move should be?”
She sat gently down in one of the chairs opposite of Stella. Awkward tension sifted through the air, but it seemed to ease just slightly. “Did you have a chance to read over the statements?”
“Yes, looks like this delivery truck will take the highway up this Thursday.” Stella folded some of the papers over, refreshing her memory. Her eyes skimmed over a map, on which yellow highlighter traced along the delivery route. The fluorescent yellow line ended near the edge of Bellevue. Just next door, Grand River squatted. Stella stomach churned, slightly. “Question is do we intercept it in-transit or at the bakery?”
“At the bakery. Then, we can pin the Spikes,” suggested Agent Grant, with a half-shrug.
There was an unspoken insinuation to her sentence. ..and the Seven Tribesmen. Stella's mouth became dry, and her synapses couldn't let go of the friendly biker meeting going on right now. What was Bishop doing? Was he trying to mess up the investigation?
Stella's brain operated on autopilot, as a huge problem plopped into her head. “We don't have a warrant.”
“We do, actually.” Agent Grant's eyebrows dipped down in a confused valley. She craned her neck to see the statements she had delivered earlier. “I wrote a quick memo on the top page for you.”
“Huh.” Stella's eyebrows furrowed as flipped through her papers. She couldn't find any scrawled notes on her copies. If Agent Grant saw her note, she didn't say anything. Shaking her head, Stella chalked it up to a mistake on Agent Grant's part. A small voice at the back of Stella's mind whined unhappily.
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