Read Online Blow Me Away (Seven Tribesmen Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Evelyn Glass - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Evelyn Glass
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“Well, how do you feel about waiting?”
Agent Grant fell silent and straightened up from her nosy lean, concentration pinching across her face. Stella could see the mental scales in her head dip and shudder. At last Agent Grant sighed and said, “Probably the best course. We'll be able to get our hands on the cocaine and finger some of the pushers.”
Stella's gaze flickered back to the papers. Bellevue and Grand River both stood at roughly the same size. She could only imagine how quickly cocaine could infiltrate such small towns. It wouldn't matter if the 7T were acting as gatekeepers or not; drugs always found a way. If the Spikes weren't afraid of the Tribesmen, then Grand River would have a sudden coke problem. “Think it's all right to let it touch down though?”
“We can swoop in as soon as it's carted inside. We have timetables.” Agent Grant nodded toward the papers. She sounded unaffected and confident. “The delivery guy will head back, thinking his delivery is complete, and we get the snort and the associates. Gives us time to investigate.”
“The Seven Tribesmen aren't on the best terms with the Spikes.” Stella toed at the surf, attempting to lead Agent Grant to her sudden thought. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Agent Holmes's eyes drifted to the other agent. She fiddled with the corner of the desk as her thoughts lolled through her head. “What if the 7T intercept the delivery?”
Agent Grant shifted in her seat. A stiff, but sympathetic, smile curled across her lips. With as much sympathy as the agent could muster, Agent Grant murmured, “Then, we take them in.”
Stella heaved a sigh, scratching her forehead with her thumb. It was the obvious answer. Yet, in her worried thoughts, Stella couldn't imagine placing cuffs on Bishop. Well, not seriously, at least. Leaning back in her chair, suddenly feeling very tired, Stella stared at her desktop. “Yeah, I guess you're right, Agent Grant.”
The two women sat in silence for a few moments. Stella's mind swirled around Bishop, the Tribesmen, and the Spikes. What was going on over there? She shook the thoughts out of her head and inhaled deeply, as if the air could shove all the thoughts away. Stella slowly stood, her throbbing muscles reminding her of her recent exercise, and rolled her shoulders. Over the popping of her joints, Stella grunted, “Well, let's get the plans ironed out. This cocaine won't bust itself.”
Tension eased from Agent Grant's body, as she nodded and pushed herself off the chair. As if eager to depart this conversation and the office, she wasted no time in bounding across the room. Stella watched her depart, wondering if the woman was excited or relieved. She couldn't imagine what Agent Grant thought of her. Slowly, Stella scuffed her way out of her office.
She threw one last glance at her desk, faintly picturing Bishop just behind it. Her brows furrowed as the missing memo skittered across her mind's eyes. She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, steeled herself, and trudged forward, shutting the door to her office firmly behind her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Later that evening, when the Devil Spikes had been ushered into a garage where they could sleep while being watched over by the Tribesmen, Bishop and Coyote sat alone in the conference room. Bishop held the document he stole from Stella in his hands. His eyes went over every line, while replaying the Spikes' proposal in his head.
“So, you think the Spikes are reliable?” grunted Coyote from where he sat to Bishop's right.
Bishop's gaze darted to his vice president and away from the words of a freshly stung prostitute. His mind swirled with thoughts and consideration. Too much new information had been pumped into it over the last hour.
“If what they say is true,” Bishop muttered, his eyebrows furrowing, “I don't see
Agent Grant fell silent and straightened up from her nosy lean, concentration pinching across her face. Stella could see the mental scales in her head dip and shudder. At last Agent Grant sighed and said, “Probably the best course. We'll be able to get our hands on the cocaine and finger some of the pushers.”
Stella's gaze flickered back to the papers. Bellevue and Grand River both stood at roughly the same size. She could only imagine how quickly cocaine could infiltrate such small towns. It wouldn't matter if the 7T were acting as gatekeepers or not; drugs always found a way. If the Spikes weren't afraid of the Tribesmen, then Grand River would have a sudden coke problem. “Think it's all right to let it touch down though?”
“We can swoop in as soon as it's carted inside. We have timetables.” Agent Grant nodded toward the papers. She sounded unaffected and confident. “The delivery guy will head back, thinking his delivery is complete, and we get the snort and the associates. Gives us time to investigate.”
“The Seven Tribesmen aren't on the best terms with the Spikes.” Stella toed at the surf, attempting to lead Agent Grant to her sudden thought. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Agent Holmes's eyes drifted to the other agent. She fiddled with the corner of the desk as her thoughts lolled through her head. “What if the 7T intercept the delivery?”
Agent Grant shifted in her seat. A stiff, but sympathetic, smile curled across her lips. With as much sympathy as the agent could muster, Agent Grant murmured, “Then, we take them in.”
Stella heaved a sigh, scratching her forehead with her thumb. It was the obvious answer. Yet, in her worried thoughts, Stella couldn't imagine placing cuffs on Bishop. Well, not seriously, at least. Leaning back in her chair, suddenly feeling very tired, Stella stared at her desktop. “Yeah, I guess you're right, Agent Grant.”
The two women sat in silence for a few moments. Stella's mind swirled around Bishop, the Tribesmen, and the Spikes. What was going on over there? She shook the thoughts out of her head and inhaled deeply, as if the air could shove all the thoughts away. Stella slowly stood, her throbbing muscles reminding her of her recent exercise, and rolled her shoulders. Over the popping of her joints, Stella grunted, “Well, let's get the plans ironed out. This cocaine won't bust itself.”
Tension eased from Agent Grant's body, as she nodded and pushed herself off the chair. As if eager to depart this conversation and the office, she wasted no time in bounding across the room. Stella watched her depart, wondering if the woman was excited or relieved. She couldn't imagine what Agent Grant thought of her. Slowly, Stella scuffed her way out of her office.
She threw one last glance at her desk, faintly picturing Bishop just behind it. Her brows furrowed as the missing memo skittered across her mind's eyes. She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, steeled herself, and trudged forward, shutting the door to her office firmly behind her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Later that evening, when the Devil Spikes had been ushered into a garage where they could sleep while being watched over by the Tribesmen, Bishop and Coyote sat alone in the conference room. Bishop held the document he stole from Stella in his hands. His eyes went over every line, while replaying the Spikes' proposal in his head.
“So, you think the Spikes are reliable?” grunted Coyote from where he sat to Bishop's right.
Bishop's gaze darted to his vice president and away from the words of a freshly stung prostitute. His mind swirled with thoughts and consideration. Too much new information had been pumped into it over the last hour.
“If what they say is true,” Bishop muttered, his eyebrows furrowing, “I don't see
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