Free Bishop's Folly by Evelyn Glass Page A

room heightened a few degrees. Distrust and uncertainty wavered between them. Stella suppressed the urge to grin as she stepped into the corridor.
     
    After exchanging a few words with the nearest officer, Stella turned to Stan. She listed her head to the side innocetly. “What's up, Stan? What did you need me for?”
     
    “What do you think you're doing?” The man took a step forward, the air around the two of them becoming icy and chill.
     
    Before this moment, Stella never realized how much bigger Stan was. He loomed over her with the air of irritation expanding from him. Stella shoved her sudden unpleasant feelings back down. “I was conducting a cross-examination.”
     
    “But, you think Delilah planted the cocaine?” Stan muttered, leaning closer to her. His gaze turned from annoyed to downright hateful. Suddenly, the man grabbed her shoulders, his fingers tight and his palms hot even through the clothes. “Are you that wound up with the Seven Tribesmen?”
     
    “I think it's a possibility,” reaffirmed Stella as she jutted out her chin. The urge to land a kick squarely between Stan's legs fluttered through her head. “Something seems a little off about her.”
     
    “Like what?” The words rolled off Stan's tongue like bitter gumdrops.
     
    “Well, last Thursday, I dug into her record.” Stella shifted from foot to foot, her gaze coyly shifted to the wall beside her. Her fingers fiddled with the edge of the folder in her hands. Her stomach clenched at what she was insinuating, and nausea crawled up her throat. She continued to fight the urge to slam her foot into his crotch as Stan's fingers twitched on her shoulders. “She has a history with drugs. Couldn't it be likely she planted the cocaine in their bedrolls?”
     
    Stan's anger shifted. His features eased and something glittered in his eyes that Stella found unwelcome. His grip on her shoulders loosened a bit. “Why did you pull her record?”
     
    “Well, I uh...” Stella's gaze shifted to the floor. She tried to exude feelings of bashfulness as her hands rolled up the folder, her only distraction from sweeping his hands off her shoulders. The nausea surged upward, coagulating in her throat, but Stella pressed forward. “I overheard you and Delilah in your office on Thursday.”
     
    “What did you hear?” Stan's brows lowered, his tone rock-solid and dark. His hands tightened on her again. His fingertips dug into the back of her shoulders, almost painfully.
     
    “Just some flirting,” Stella shrugged a shoulder. The movement made Stan drop his hands. She bit her bottom lip as her gaze hesitantly slid up to him. The nausea pounded in her throat. “It upset me, so I took off.”
     
    His features softened, again. “Why would it upset you?”
     
    “We had gone on that date, not so long ago, and we were rudely interrupted,” Stella rambled. Her gaze shifted from Stan's face, to the wall, ceiling, and floor. She didn't want to see the interest in his eyes. Her stomach curled in on itself, calling Stella a traitor. Her body wanted nothing to do with the man. “I just thought, maybe... Oh, forget it.”
     
    She turned away suddenly as mortified and angry heat licked across her face. Subjecting herself to wooing her dirty partner while knowing he was to blame for her attempted abduction and Bishop's drug-induced seizing took all of Stella's acting ability. Her fingers clenched and eased around the tightly rolled up folder, a physical manifestation of her taut nerves. Stan's heavy hand on her shoulder forced Stella to pause.
     
    “Stella, are you trying to say you were jealous of Delilah?” Stan glowed with thinly veiled excitement. He forced Stella to turn around and raised his eyebrows as his other hand landed on Stella's free shoulder. Slightly, Stan stooped over her, as if a closer proximity wouldn't shatter his warped reality. “That's why you took some days off?”
     
    Her skin crawled as Stan leered at her. The scent of his