Page 57 of Return Ticket

Gabriella laughed in his face. “Do you know how many fines I issue a day? And most of the time, I never see the drivers. The reason they are getting a fine is because they’ve parked their cars and gone somewhere else without checking the time or whether they’re allowed to park where they have.”

He hesitated, as if this had not occurred to him. “So you never saw him?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” She lied without compunction. She was no friend of Mr. Jaguar, but she actually couldn’t remember which house he’d come out of, and this man had physically hurt her.

He studied her. “I know it was you who issued the fine. And I was told you did interact with the driver of this particular car. Why are you lying?”

“How on Earth do you know any of that?” she asked. Was there someone at traffic warden headquarters who’d given this man her route?

“I’ve got my ways.” He tapped the side of his nose, which was a gesture she’d have to ask Liz or James about.

“And your ways are what?” she persisted.

“Never mind, just answer the question.” He lunged at her, grabbing her upper arms and giving her a shake.

Before she could respond, a chair whacked into his back and he swore, letting her go as he turned to see what was going on.

Teddy Roe was holding a chair from the pile by its back rest, moving the legs back and forward as if he was a lion tamer at a circus.

“What the blazes?” The man tried to grab a leg, but Teddy Roe jerked it away, pulling the man off balance.

There was a sudden sound of metal hitting metal, and with a curse, the man looked toward his car.

Jerry was holding a long poker, slightly rusted at the one end, and once he saw he had everyone’s attention, he hit the side of the car with it again.

With an explosive curse, the man ran toward him, but Jerry danced back, over the road to the other side, and waved the poker around from the far pavement. “Bully,” he shouted. “Stop hurting that girl.”

The man turned back, but Teddy Roe had moved forward, and was thrusting the chair back and forth by the backrest, blocking all access to her.

The noise had drawn attention, and a few people began to come out of their front doors.

With another curse the man got into the car, which was still running, and drove away.

Gabriella realized she was shaking. “Mr. Roe, you’ve come to the rescue again.”

Teddy Roe lowered the chair and turned back to her, a huge grin on his face. “’Twas fun,” he said. “Loved it.”

Jerry swanned back across the road, waving the poker in some kind of victory dance. “We got him,” he said. “Got him good.”

“You did. I can’t thank you enough.” She shivered.

She left them slapping each other on the back, and having what looked like a whale of a time.

She was nervous for the rest of her route, worried that if the man could find her at one point on it, there was nothing stopping him from trying again at another.

But no black Mercedes made an appearance.

As she climbed the stairs to headquarters and stepped inside, she looked toward Mr. Greenberg’s office, torn.

Once again, she would be the squeaky wheel, but it was unacceptable for someone to have given out her route. She had a right to feel as safe as it was possible to feel in what was a confrontational job.

She squared her shoulders, and walked toward the boss’s office.

The door was open when she got there, and Mr. Greenberg was packing up his things.

“Gabriella.” He paused, looking at her with a growing frown.

“Mr. Greenberg.” She took a step inside, and realized her fists were clenched.

---