"Ah, the money," Lizzie glared over the table, pretending to take an invisible pen. "Well, let me get my checkbook. How much do you want?"

His smile was back, this time laced with menace, nothing else on his face had moved. "Dale said you had a smart mouth. He talked about you a lot," his eyes went over her. "He liked to talk, it's why I know about this parcel in Warsa Park. The only thing he owns. And about his hatred for banks. His general paranoia. He only trusted himself. And Lizzie," he imitated Dale's whiny voice.

If everything Leo Guy knew about her was from Dale then it meant the man was already convinced Lizzie was a far worse adversary than she actually was. Plan A was on autopilot.

Resurrected, she got up, taking her time. The formerly white tank top was all she had on over her bathing suit, but it was Dale's so it covered the important parts, reaching her knees. With thinned material, almost transparent. Lizzie wasn't very shy, it meant she had to give a shit.

She got her sunglasses and phone from the table, made from the same yellowed coral plastic as the chair, and went for the trailer. Towards the enemy.

White Grin watched her approach him, still until she was about to enter the door, when he blocked her way with a wall comprised of only himself.

Having foreseen that, she was less scared than he probably expected her to be. She stopped, bored of the dance:

"You're free to look everywhere, and take anything you want. I'm telling you," she demonstratively touched the Lair's wall, "Everything here that isn't pinned down to the ground isn't worth the gas needed to transport it. But hey, it's between you and Dale. You can take his underwear, I don't care."

"So he got out, still he never showed up here?" Leo looked over her head as if expecting Dale to attack from nowhere.

"Yup. You are free to see for yourself," she played uninterested.

With that, he slid sideways, letting her enter the trailer unobstructed. Because Black Hoodie looked like he was about to follow her inside, Lizzie turned at the top of the two wooden steps Dale constructed over an entire summer.

"I hope you brought tools with you. And that that," she pointed to the headlights, "Is a clown car with more people inside it, that turns into a van at midnight," Lizzie advised, "Because you already saw the only valuable things here and it'll take you a while to take that generator apart. You're gonna need help carrying it."

His smile faded.

"I know about the thirty grand," his hand went inside his pocket. "And I know you know about it. Give it to me, and let's stay friends."

There was nothing Lizzie wanted less than a new friend, "I hope you didn't tattoo your way out of prison for this but... there's no money. Look around, does it look like I'm sitting on thirty big ones?"

"Dale said you were smart," Still Too Friendly Guy took a step closer to her. "You wouldn't have touched his money. Just tell me where he keeps it and I'll leave you to..."

He looked around as if for the very first time realizing where he was. "Whatever it is you were doing."

"Fine, be my guest," it was time for Lizzie to enter the trailer, the cold night air made her aware of her skimpy clothing. "But if you do find anything worth thirty thousand dollars, let me know. I wanna take a picture of it with my phone," she closed the screen door behind her.

Hot Guy was the only one who'd ever asked about Dale's bag of money.