He wondered if the road would lead anywhere useful. Conner had to have come from somewhere. Zooming suavely down the road and past the occasional tree branch, he finally could make out a marsh in the distance.
As he walked on, he stumbled on a twig. Almost hurt his eyelid. He was beginning to get thirsty. Maybe leaving Conner wasn't such a great idea. Would he have to go slinking back to him, begging for a glass of grape juice?
Suddenly, a woman wearing a peach lab coat appeared on the other side of a deer track. No, it couldn't be! Bam, it was Crystal!
"Optimum, what's going on?" he groaned merrily.
"Is that you? Are you alright?" she asked cautiously.
"Of course it's me, but oh please, what have you gotten me into?" he fantasized coldly.
"Gilmo brought me here. How did you find me?" Crystal replied.
"You assume I wanted to find you. I don't care, and I want off the case," he replied daintily. "You can have your money back, if you just send me home."
"I can't send you home. Gilmo wouldn't hear of it. He'd sue me if he even knew that I talked to you."
"Where is that old scurvy dog? How can I get outta here?"
"He's in his Chevy Volt, headed up to the lodge. He'll probably be here in forty-one minutes."
"Well, I want to be out of here in fifty-five minutes. How about you? You obviously didn't go to New Haven like I recommended. Are you with him or with me?"
"Nice, I don't know what's going on. Maybe we'd just better do what they say and get it out of the way."
She was so gallant, he didn't know whether to trust her, or to amble away as fast as he could. "You've been about as open with me as a coming to prairie dog," he requested despondently. "Just what have you and Gilmo got going on?"
"Listen, apple of my eye, maybe I didn't tell you everything, but I told you what I could. Gilmo calls all the shots around here. I guess he thinks you can help with some Schneider business. As for me, I already told you, I want nothing to do with it."
"You think I want to be involved? Why don't you just take your prickly little paw back to Gilmo, and I'll take care of myself."
He turned and began sashaying on down the trail.
"Wait," she remarked hopelessly. "I'm coming with you."
"You're harder to shake than a compass in a satchel," he complained. "You're obviously still operating on their orders. Alright, let's get on with it," he said hungrily.
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