Her Celestial Farm on the Scrapyard Planet novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150 Talk About the Law

Finished

Milhouse let out this nasty little laugh, as if he’d just heed the world’s best joke. He jabbed at the table, smirking as he pointed to a stack of freshly printed photos of Mick and Terence, both sporting black eyes and busted noses. “Twenty–four hours? Not a chance. Colonel Conte and his boy are all bruised up, and that’s hard proof. We’ve got evidence and witnesses. Dot even dream about getting out of here. Get ready for charges“:

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, her tone sharp and cold. “Hard proof, huh? Mr. Wardenfold, you keep saying we started the fight. Did you even bother to pull the security footage from the scene? That mall’s cameras should’ve caught every second of it, right?”

Milhouse’s eyes darted for a second, then he put on this fake, regretful face and shrugged. “What a shame. We just talked to mall management. Guess what? That whole section’s cameras broke down yesterday. Nothing got recorded.”

He finished his little speech with a smug grin that told everyone how much he was enjoying this.

Elizabeth let her voice stretch, sarcasm dripping in every word. “So the cameras broke? How convenient! But, Mr. Wardenfold, I’ve got another question for you. If the cameras are down and you didn’t see any of this yourself, then outside of Mick, Mandy, and their boy and nephew–who all have a stake in this–do you have a single independent witness? Anyone neutral who can really prove that a group of women and kids like us beat up a trained military colonel and two big guys so badly?”

She waved a hand at Fiona, Peter, Tasha, and Selina, then pointed at herself. Her voice turned mocking. “Mr. Wardenfold, look at us. We’re just a bunch of so–called frail women and kids. Are you saying we took down a decorated colonel and his whole family? Really? If you put that in front of a judge and a jury, do you think anyone with a brain would buy it? Sounds more like Colonel Conte took a bad tumble and decided to blame us for his own mess.”

“That’s sophism! It’s nonsense!” Milhouse’s face turned red as a hot stove. He shot up from his chair, finger nearly poking Elizabeth’s nose, spit flying everywhere.

“I’m telling you, Elizabeth! Just because you’re Mrs. Hewitt now doesn’t mean you can throw your weight around! This is my turf! I don’t care who you are, you play by my rules! If you keep mouthing off, I’ll—”

He was so worked up, his finger sliced the air with every word. He got so close, spit almost hit Elizabeth’s face.

Suddenly, a loud bang ripped through the room.

Someone threw the interrogation room door open with enough force to rattle the walls.

That sound cut Milhouse’s rant off mid–breath.

There stood Chief Rigby, sweating bullets, with a composed older man in a dark, tailored suit right behind him.

Corey took one look at Milhouse, still waving his hand in Elizabeth’s face, and nearly lost it. He darted forward, moving way faster than any overweight middle–aged man should.

He smacked Milhouse’s hand right out of the air, his voice sharp and trembling with anger.

“Who do you think you are, throwing a fit in here? Milhouse! You idiot! Who are you pointing at? Try that again and see if you keep that finger!”

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17:58 Mon, Apr 13 D

Chapter 150 Talk About the Law

Milhouse froze.

His hand throbbed where Corey hit him, and for a second, he just stood there in shock.

Finished

He glanced between the chief’s furious glare and the stone–faced older man in the doorway, completely

thrown.

He thought maybe Corey just got spooked by the whole Mrs. Hewitt thing.

He tried to keep his voice low, leaning closer to the chic with a desperate whisper. “Chief, you know who she is, right? That’s Mrs. Hewitt. Elizabeth!”

“What the hell are you talking about? We deal with facts, not status!” Corey’s eyes twitched, and he shot Milhouse a look that screamed for him to shut up.

You blithering idiot!

He tried to play it off, hoping they could all pretend not to know Elizabeth’s identity and smooth this over as some random misunderstanding.

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