CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
The atmosphere in the meeting room was energetic and hopeful, but thinly veiled under stoic professionalism. Stella's heart thrummed in her chest from excitement, and deep down, she knew part of it was thanks to seeing Bishop again. She didn't dwell on that fact. Instead, she glanced around the new operations room.
She and Stan had neglected the fact that some officers were visual learners. Agent Grant, in her time without her supervising officer, had done a beautiful job setting up the walls. Photographs and mugshots of various criminals adorned the walls; some were from biker gangs, others arrested on dealing drugs, and a few were known connections to drug cartels in South America.
The Seven Tribesmen, the Devil Spikes, and the Grave Demons glared down at Stella from one wall. She had inspected those mugshots very carefully, not wanting to be surprised by any attempted abductions again.
Agent Grant had taken the liberty to put the newest mugshots on the walls. Around the Grave Demons, women leered at the camera while holding up placards with their names and nicknames. Fairview PD had recently initiated a sting program, targeting prostitution. Agent Grant had picked up on it, through the wires, and requested the FBI to send some agents down.
Standing at the head of the table, Stella's new partner flipped through papers and reports. “The hookers picked up during the sting ended up making a deal for no jail time.”
“Anything useful?” From her spot by the Seven Tribesmen’s mugshots, Stella halfway turned. Knowing they needed to hash out a plan, Stella closed in on Agent Grant, hoping for good news.
“Yeah,” Agent Grant nodded, a smile twitching at her lips. She glanced up to Stella, pride gleaming in her eyes. “They told us about a shipment going to Bellevue sometime this week.”
“Bellevue.” Stella's eyebrows furrowed, as she crossed her arms. “That's where that one gang is.”
“The Devil Spikes, yeah.” Grant nodded her head fervently. Stella was impressed with how eager Grant had become on this case. It was a stark difference from Stan's aloof nature and penchant for letting things fall in his lap. Agent Rebecca Grant was a go-getter and, seemingly, sought to gain Stella's approval. Stella wasn't sure if she should be flattered for the admiration or feel guilty for allowing Grant to do the heavy lifting in her absence. Agent Grant continued, “The blow is trundled in as ingredients. It's stowed away somewhere until it can be moved to a storage house by the bikers.”
Stella took a piece of paper from Agent Grant, skimming over the information. In her head, a million ideas flashed and flared. They were closing in on a sample of the blow. Once it was attained, the FBI could pinpoint the cartel. All that was left was arresting the gangs responsible for supplying the snort. “Okay. Did we get a name for the truck?”
As if anticipating the question, Agent Grant immediately answered, “Delivers under the name Crystal Sugars.”
Stella snorted, half out of amusement and half out of exasperation. Criminals. They thought they could get away with anything and have a laugh about it. Well, the FBI would laugh last. The cocaine case was beginning to tie off rather nicely. Perhaps Bishop was a harmful distraction.
“We'll need a unit to follow the truck from Fairview to Bellevue. Make sure no one moves a brick while we're getting a search warrant for the bakery.” Judging from the paperwork and Agent Grant's penchant for staying in the department during lunch, the young woman had already filed for a search warrant. That left assigning officers to tail the delivery truck. Stella's thoughts wobbled between snatching the truck and allowing the delivery to be completed. The former gave them an edge, it let them strike fast while the iron was hot. The latter gave proof of domestic connection to an international cartel. “We'll need to intercept the truck or finger the bakery for connec—”
A hesitant knock reverberated against the door. Both FBI agents turned to the entry way, as an elderly officer poked his head into the room. He smiled apologetically and winced under their attention. “Agent Holmes, you have a visitor.”
“What?” Confusion sliced through Stella's thoughts. Unwarranted hope flooded her head before she was able to slam down the flood gates. No way it was him. It was probably a supervisor, finally making their way down after the Stan fiasco. Or it was someone else with an unfounded tip. Anyone, but him.
“Mr. Bishop is here. Says he wants to talk to you.” The officer bowed his head, as if apologetic.
Stella's heart skipped and fumbled. Residual memories tickled her head: the scent of leather, the press of a firm body, the vibrations of deep, throaty moans. She forced the heat to simmer in her stomach, praying the blush stay far beneath the surface.
“I'm sorry, Agent Grant. This might be important.” Stella turned to her partner, a weak grin on her lips. Giving a one-shouldered shrug, she added, “Rapport and everything.”
“I understand, ma'am.” Agent Grant nodded and smiled with reassurance. She gathered up the reports from the table, turning her eyes away from Stella. “I'll just make copies of the statements, so you can go over them later.”
“Thank you. That'd be great.” Stella watched Agent Grant for a beat as the woman shuffled through the papers, faintly wondering if the other woman knew about the gossip revolving around the office. Throughout the short days of working together, Agent Grant had carried on professionally. It was a definite mystery, but Stella wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer.
Stella turned to the now empty doorway. Apparently, two female feds were more intimidating than the Seven Tribesmen president. That thought made warmth stir inside her and a smirk pull across her lips. Now, if only she could use that prideful heat to stave off the awkward chill between Bishop and herself.