Vance tugged his blue cap lower over his forehead and glanced past my shoulder at the main office window.

“She wiped the route off the board.

She said we’re cutting fuel overhead until the merger closes Friday.”

“Vance, who signs your paycheck?” I asked.

Dale cleared his throat behind me.

He wiped his palms on the red rag and stepped one pace closer to the bumper.

“She cleared the schedule through the main computer at ten, Garrett,” Dale said quietly.

“The system locked Vance out of the electronic log.”