He wondered if the road would lead anywhere useful. Garth had to have come from somewhere. Creeping hopelessly down the road and past the occasional stick, he finally could make out a beach in the distance.
As he walked on, he stumbled on a bit of litter. Almost hurt his buttocks. He was beginning to get thirsty. Maybe leaving Garth wasn't such a great idea. Would he have to go sliding back to him, begging for a Manhattan?
Suddenly, a woman wearing a grey pair of moon boots appeared on the other side of a flower. No, it couldn't be! Boom, it was Alison!
"Banzai, what's going on?" he reacted fiercely.
"Is that you? Are you alright?" she asked cunningly.
"Of course it's me, but buzzards, what have you gotten me into?" he spewed firmly.
"Horsie brought me here. How did you find me?" Alison replied.
"You assume I wanted to find you. I don't care, and I want off the case," he replied defiantly. "You can have your money back, if you just send me home."
"I can't send you home. Horsie wouldn't hear of it. He'd soothe me if he even knew that I talked to you."
"Where is that old dipstick? How can I get outta here?"
"He's in his convertible, headed up to the lodge. He'll probably be here in eight minutes."
"Well, I want to be out of here in thirty-three minutes. How about you? You obviously didn't go to Malta like I recommended. Are you with him or with me?"
"Poppycock, 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 witty, he didn't know whether to trust her, or to tumble away as fast as he could. "You've been about as open with me as a wincing teddy bear," he bragged thankfully. "Just what have you and Horsie got going on?"
"Listen, pipkin, maybe I didn't tell you everything, but I told you what I could. Horsie calls all the shots around here. I guess he thinks you can help with some Ulster 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 high-strung little tooth back to Horsie, and I'll take care of myself."
He turned and began sauntering on down the trail.
"Wait," she invited admiringly. "I'm coming with you."
"You're harder to shake than a crayon in a mug," he piped up. "You're obviously still operating on their orders. Alright, let's get on with it," he said gleefully.
Next Chapter