Chapter 12 - The Delivery Driver’s Wrench
The delivery driver stepped squarely between Marcus and Evelyn, lifting the heavy metal wrench in a clear threat. Marcus cursed under his breath, releasing his grip on Evelyn’s shoulder and taking a cautious step back into the shadow of the loading bay.
“Mind your own business, pal. This is a private family matter,” Marcus warned, his hand sliding toward his inner coat pocket.
“Family matter my ass,” the driver snapped, glancing down at Evelyn’s torn yellow dress and bruised arms. “She looks like she’s running for her life. Get in the cab, lady. Now.”
Evelyn didn’t hesitate. She scrambled up into the passenger seat of the delivery van, slamming the heavy door shut and locking it from the inside.
Richard stepped forward, his face pale with rage, waving the court order in the air. “You’re harboring a fugitive from a civil litigation order! You’ll lose your commercial license before sunrise, driver!”
“Let the judge sort it out!” the driver shouted back, jumping into the driver’s seat and slamming the gear shift into reverse.
The van lurched backward down the wet ramp, tires screeching against the slick asphalt as Marcus and Richard leaped out of the way. Clara screamed in frustration, her black umbrella slipping from her hand and tumbling into a puddle as the delivery van rocketed out of the hospital loading bay and into the dark city streets.
Evelyn sat slumped against the passenger door, trembling from the adrenaline crash, the cold rain dripping from her blonde curls onto the dashboard.
“Where to, miss?” the driver asked, glancing over at her with genuine concern as he navigated the winding city blocks. “You look like you need a safe house.”
“Take me to the downtown precinct,” Evelyn said, her voice steadying as she wiped the rain from her eyes. “Not the local station—the federal district office downtown. My father left a second set of records locked in a secure federal vault that these people can’t touch with a fake court order.”
The driver’s eyes widened in the rearview mirror. “Federal vault? Lady, what kind of family did you grow up in?”
“A very dangerous one,” Evelyn replied, pulling the brass key from her pocket and holding it tightly against her chest.
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As the van turned the corner toward the downtown district, a sleek black SUV pulled out from an alleyway behind them, its headlights dark, following their exact trail.
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