He wondered if the road would lead anywhere useful. Dale had to have come from somewhere. Hobbling coolly down the road and past the occasional wolf track, he finally could make out a dump in the distance.
As he walked on, he stumbled on a pine cone. Almost hurt his tummy. He was beginning to get thirsty. Maybe leaving Dale wasn't such a great idea. Would he have to go marching back to him, begging for a glass of fruit punch?
Suddenly, a woman wearing a crimson wet suit appeared on the other side of a piece of driftwood. No, it couldn't be! Grody to the max, it was Heather!
"Oh my word, what's going on?" he whispered fearfully.
"Is that you? Are you alright?" she asked fearlessly.
"Of course it's me, but crud, what have you gotten me into?" he trumpeted elatedly.
"Arnold brought me here. How did you find me?" Heather replied.
"You assume I wanted to find you. I don't care, and I want off the case," he replied merrily. "You can have your money back, if you just send me home."
"I can't send you home. Arnold wouldn't hear of it. He'd disinfect me if he even knew that I talked to you."
"Where is that old monster? How can I get outta here?"
"He's in his Ford Flex, headed up to the lodge. He'll probably be here in thirty-seven minutes."
"Well, I want to be out of here in forty minutes. How about you? You obviously didn't go to Indiana like I recommended. Are you with him or with me?"
"Congratulations, 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 hysterical, he didn't know whether to trust her, or to sneak away as fast as he could. "You've been about as open with me as a dreaming iguana," he rationalized blankly. "Just what have you and Arnold got going on?"
"Listen, shabookadook, maybe I didn't tell you everything, but I told you what I could. Arnold 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 statuesque little Achilles tendon back to Arnold, and I'll take care of myself."
He turned and began storming on down the trail.
"Wait," she sniffed sharply. "I'm coming with you."
"You're harder to shake than a remote control in a basin," he exclaimed. "You're obviously still operating on their orders. Alright, let's get on with it," he said grudgingly.
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