Chapter 247: The Lunch Lady Declares War

Nessa had found our escaping criminal while preparing forty-seven breakfast wraps, which made the rest of us look badly equipped for productive work. She’d discovered the fuel-account sleeve while cleaning her recovered truck, then checked the listed weighing station against a public road camera because the overnight queue sometimes delayed her suppliers.

The grey lorry in the image matched Tavi’s description, but Rook still wanted the plate checked before anyone treated a similar vehicle as proof. She sent the details to officers near Gate Nine while Nessa photographed the invoices and promised to keep the originals somewhere safer than her glovebox.

A buyer’s phone sounded beside us with an automatic demand for payment on the disputed cabinets. Renn was escaping from a smoking warehouse while his system continued billing the guests, which was the strongest argument for damaging office equipment I’d heard all week.

[System: The prick’s still sending invoices while he runs, mate; if we catch him, charge for your time and add a fee for each fucking fee he invented.]

We’ll charge storage while he explains himself, with a handling fee if I have to bite the explanation out of his expensive trousers. Bridget opened her car and told Rook we could watch from a public road without interfering with a moving lorry.

Rook said she would believe that when she saw the unbroken road afterwards. "I’m planning to interfere with the stationary man inside it, which should make this an entirely different problem," I explained before accepting that the officer’s expression was not an invitation to keep negotiating.

We left Lukas with the medic and his injured ribs while Cherry texted that she had ordered him food from a nearby shop during her casino break. Lyra sent a photograph of the busy floor and a message saying she was still earning money despite me, giving me something reassuring to enjoy while our driver took the eastern freight road.

Bridget removed the pins from her hair and pulled her coat around the tear in her dress. Extinguisher dust marked one calf, and her fingers shook slightly as she fastened her seat belt, showing that getting through the warehouse had cost her more than she wanted to discuss in front of the others.

I had been watching long enough for her to notice, so I asked whether she was hurt instead of pretending the upholstery was fascinating. She said the knee was scraped and the dress was ruined, but the bill would look lovely with Renn’s name at the top.

[System: There’s a first-aid kit beside the seat, champ; offer something useful before you stare your way into a second traffic offence.]

I’m charging you rent if you start watching my dates like a retired bloke supervising roadworks from a camping chair. I passed Bridget the wipe and held the packet while she cleaned her knee, leaving her in charge of the parts that hurt.

"You could have stayed outside after the door opened, but I’m glad you didn’t leave me to work out the extinguisher," I told her. She said her family paid for enough staff that she occasionally needed proof she could still do something for herself.

Her hand settled against the uninjured side of my neck when the car turned, and she left it there after the bend. She asked why I’d returned for Tavi when I’d only just learned his name, sounding more interested in the answer than in praising me for it.

"Lukas went after him, and I’m apparently responsible for a spider with the survival instincts of wet bread," I said. Bridget waited for the rest, so I admitted I hadn’t wanted to hear either of them screaming while I enjoyed catching Renn.

Bridget said her family would call tonight poor judgment, then admitted she’d enjoyed herself. I asked whether that included meeting me, and she said she hadn’t finished testing the bad idea beside her.

Her mother called while she was speaking, and Bridget sent a message saying she was busy doing charity. The driver made a sound that suggested he had heard similar explanations before, then mentioned a previous champagne incident without waiting for me to ask.

[System: Stop applying for the bad-influence position, mate; she’s already running the bloody department and deciding whether you qualify for a private induction.]

I was taking romantic advice from a drunk koala whose singlet had surrendered the fight against his gut. The irritating part was that he understood Bridget’s interest before I stopped finding reasons to question it.

If there’s a uniform, I’m requesting a fitting before she discovers my main qualification is looking confident while absolutely shitting myself. Bridget caught my attention moving towards the compartment and said I shouldn’t look so shocked, because she’d been bored long before she’d met a snake willing to argue back.

Our driver took a service road around the queue instead of pushing through the lorries, which let us reach the station without announcing ourselves. I watched the lane markers pass and briefly enjoyed using a route that somebody else had already learned to follow.

The car slowed beside Gate Nine, where a grey refrigerated lorry idled on the weighbridge beneath a bright canopy. Its plate matched Nessa’s invoice, and the dent beside the rear latch matched the vehicle Tavi had described leaving the warehouse.

Bridget sent the confirmed number to Rook while the driver parked beyond the entrance. Through the lowered window, we could hear the station attendant arguing about a weight reading that didn’t match the declared load, with Renn insisting he sign the slip anyway.

A marked vehicle appeared at the far entrance before the attendant agreed. Renn saw its lights, grabbed the man’s sleeve and struck him across the face with the black case when he tried to pull away.

I was through the window before Bridget finished saying my name. Renn shoved the attendant into the passenger side and climbed after him while the driver started the engine, leaving the lowered exit barrier as the only thing between the lorry and the junction beyond.

Beside the lane, an emergency wheel stop began sinking into its housing as someone released the weighing platform. I changed direction towards its exposed lifting arm while the engine rose behind me, knowing that if the plate reached the ground I would have no safe way to stop the lorry before it hit the waiting traffic.