“What do you think, Wolf?” Lance just finished explaining his plan. Wolf had kept his word and came over to Lance’s apartment as soon as he had gotten off work and could drive over.

Seated in Lance’s living room on opposite sides of a black leather sectional, Wolf gave him a vague answer. “I think you’re definitely going to need some help.” Secretly, he was thankful Lance had come to him for assistance. It would be better for both of them if Lance was able to complete this mission successfully.

Knowing nothing of Wolf’s ulterior motives for his help, Lance forged ahead and told him about the clue that he claimed was left behind by Walt Disney himself. To help support his argument, Lance displayed the handwritten note that mentioned El Lobo and Hidden Mickeys, plus the list of clues that had formed the word Columbia. He thought it vital to up Wolf’s interest by showing him the note and the handwriting that was unmistakably Disney’s own.

Wolf seemed mildly intrigued by the clue Colombia and the handwritten note. He seemed more enthusiastic—if anyone could call Wolf enthusiastic about anything—when Lance asked him to join him on a trip to the South American country. It was that Colombia that Walt alluded to.

At least that was what Lance was hoped Walt alluded to.

Lance and Wolf were glad they didn’t have to follow Walt’s entire trip to South America to find what they needed. From their research, they knew Walt’s trip had been exhausting. Argentina, Chile, Peru, Ecuador, the Panama Canal. The trip had been fruitful, though. Not only was it a successful goodwill tour, two films, Saludos Amigos and Three Caballeros, were a result of the trip, and each of them earned attention from the Academy Awards.

After changing planes in Houston at 10:00 p.m., their fourteen hour flight neared its end. As they flew over the Pacific Ocean to make their approach inland, they were impressed by the beauty of both the coastline and the inner land in the brilliant early morning light. The sparkling blue of the water turned into vivid greens of the mountainous areas. It was no wonder why Columbia was renowned as one of the most beautiful countries in the world.

A large country with a population of almost forty-three million people, Columbia bordered Brazil, Venezuela, Panama, Peru and Ecuador. In his research, Lance had learned that in the early 1500’s, Columbia had been invaded by the Spanish who found a wealth of gold buried in its fertile ground. Increased taxation by Spain to fund its wars finally led to uprising and revolt. But it wasn’t until 1819 that Simon Bolivar and his armies finally defeated the Spanish and formed the independent Republic of Gran, which included Columbia, Panama, Venezuela and Ecuador. Early in the twentieth century, all the partners withdrew from the association and Columbia was on its own in 1905. Intrigued by the gold discovery, Lance wondered what they would discover at their trail’s end.

After all the experience he had gained during his extensive journeys with Beth and Adam, Lance made the necessary plans for this excursion. Settled back in his seat, Wolf’s stoic face showed neither boredom nor excitement. He had done plenty of traveling himself and would judge matters as they arose. He did have a question for Lance he had forgotten to ask.

“Lance? Tell me….” He broke off when he saw that both of the flight attendants again hovered around their seats and Lance’s attention was diverted. Some of the interest was being directed his way, but he ignored it in his usual manner. At different times during this all-night flight, he had privately wondered just how many blankets, pillows, snack bags, ear phones, and drinks Lance could handle. When Lance was handed a third drink and the attendants finally remembered there were other passengers onboard to attend, Wolf took the cocktail away from him, downed it in one gulp, crushed the plastic cup, and set it back on Lance’s tray table. At the amused look on Lance’s face, Wolf felt he had to give some sort of explanation. “It’s only 5 a.m. We don’t need you tipsy.”

“’Tipsy’?” Lance let out a good-natured laugh. “I didn’t think you’d even know that word, let alone use it!” He waved off Wolf’s concern. “I know, I know. The girls are just being friendly. What was the drink this time? The last one was a Cosmo.”

“No idea. I didn’t even taste it. I wanted to ask you something. What was the Hidden Mickey reference in the clue you showed me? Something about it being the first one? I never did hear the explanation of that.”

Lance glanced around to see where the flight attendants were and to check the surrounding passengers. Most of the other passengers were either reading or were asleep. Pretty sure he wouldn’t be overheard, he still lowered his voice before he answered. “Can you hear me if I talk like this?”

Wolf didn’t show his amusement. If you were whispering from the front of the plane, I could still hear you. “Yes, I can hear you fine,” he said out loud to Lance.

“Okay, good. I just didn’t want anyone else to hear. Anyway, when we first read Walt’s diary, he said he would be sending us on a search for Hidden Mickeys. We, of course, thought he meant the ones like you find hidden around Disneyland—you know, the three circles that make up Mickey’s head?”

Wolf nodded. He was used to being stopped while on duty at Disneyland and asked if he knew where this or that Hidden Mickey was located. He had finally had to memorize a few just to make the guests happy.

Lance continued. “We quickly found this was just a metaphor for everything he had hidden. Some of the prizes he had left behind really were Mickey something-or-others. Most were not. So, I wasn’t sure if this part of the clue would turn out to be an actual Mickey or not. Turns out it was.” Warming up to the subject, Lance turned sideways in his seat to face Wolf. “I found it in only one of those reference books you saw piled on my table. It was one of the main reasons I knew which Columbia Walt meant. The first time a hidden mickey appeared in a film was in the 1945 animated short film called Cold Blooded Penguin. It was a part of the film Three Caballeros. There was even a picture of that scene in the book I had. Mickey is painted on a sand pail belonging to Pablo the Penguin, who is the star of that film.”

Wolf just nodded again when Lance finished. He had always been impressed by how thorough and detail-oriented Walt was, how one idea of his could be taken and grown and developed into a lasting phenomenon.

They were both silent as the plane began its descent toward the airport, lost in their own thoughts.

Once they had landed, they had a connecting flight to a nearby coastal village. Their spacious jumbo jet was replaced by a small ten-seat commuter/cargo plane. The helpful and attentive flight attendants were replaced by Wolf who now found he needed to stow both of their bags. As it jockeyed for position on the runway, their small plane was dwarfed by its larger cousins. After three jarring bounces, they were once again airborne and heading back toward the coast at a much lower elevation. They crossed a few rivers and wondered which one they would be taking in a few hours.

As soon as they landed and cleared a rather relaxed Customs, Lance came across his first obstacle: He didn’t speak the language. He had become complacent in the former travels as English was all that had been needed. Now in a small town away from the commercial and tourist centers of the bigger cities, he was faced with a string of local taxi drivers who had no idea where the harbor was that held their reserved boat. Repeating the name slowly didn’t help any more than showing them his itinerary. After watching Lance and the driver getting more and more frustrated, an amused Wolf stepped in and easily gave directions. Both Lance and the taxi driver were visibly relieved as their luggage was thrown into the trunk and they settled into the back of the cab.

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” In a cloud of dust, the taxi sped off from the airport clearing.

Wolf gave a small smile as he looked out the window. “You never asked.”

Used to the quiet moods of his Security partner, Lance merely grinned. “True. Anything else I should know that might come in helpful?”

Wolf pretended to be deep in thought. “I can also speak Lakota, French, some Italian, and can start a fire with two sticks and a piece of string. Is any of that helpful?”

“Seeing how remote this area is, the fire might come in useful. Lakota? What’s that?”

“My people. I am Lakota.”

Lance grabbed the armrest of the car as the driver made a sharp turn, seemingly on two wheels. “That would explain the fire thing then.”

Wolf just smiled and made no further comment.

Moments later the cab came to a screeching halt in front of a small marina. Some of the signs were in English and grandly proclaimed “Tropical Jungle Excursions” and “See the Amazon.” From his research, Lance knew the slow-moving river in front of them was nowhere near the actual Amazon River, but it was considered a tributary of it. Wolf was in a deep discussion with the taxi driver over the exact amount of the fare. The driver apparently had forgotten that the dark one spoke Spanish. The two men came to a reluctant, but almost mutual, agreement. Lance wondered what exactly Wolf had said to the man as the driver muttered something that sounded rather unpleasant under his breath during the time he tossed their bags onto the pavement, slammed the trunk of his cab, and sped off again.

“Wolf, what did he just say?”

“’Have a nice trip’,” was Wolf’s steady response.

Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Really? I didn’t get that from his body language.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary to add where he thought our trip should go….”

Lance broke out in a wide, easy grin. “Yeah, I kind of thought that was the case. See if you can find…” he broke off to consult his travel itinerary, “a Jorge. He is our skipper into the wilds of the beautiful tropical jungle, as it said in their brochure online.”

Wolf gave a noncommittal grunt and quickly found their guide and their manner of transport. Both men stood on the dock a moment and stared at it. Humphrey Bogart wouldn’t have taken this boat.…

“You already pay?” Wolf asked him.

“Yeah,” Lance muttered flatly.

“Great.”

“Yeah. Well, we wanted an adventure.”

“Wasté kte sni.”

Lance looked over at him. “What did you say?”

“I said ‘it won’t be good’.”

Lance gave a laugh and slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, it won’t get any better the longer we stand here and stare at it. Ah, this must be our intrepid guide.”

Jorge emerged from the shack that served as his ‘Safari Office.’ Dressed all in khaki, he did give the air of a Jungle Explorer. Fortunately for Lance, he did speak English. “Welcome, amigos, to Columbia!” Arms spread wide in greeting, he approached them with a huge smile.

Lance sincerely hoped he wasn’t expecting a hug.

“You misters ready for your jungle cruise?”

Lance wanted to make sure of their destination first. “You know for sure where El Lobo is located? It’s on this river?”
“Oh, sí, Señor Brentwood. El Lobo is a famous landmark in this region. Many…umm, I am not sure of right word. I would say many de tribu come to see El Lobo. You ready go now?”

Lance looked to Wolf for translation, but Wolf had an odd look on his face. He didn’t look exactly worried, just suddenly alert, and there was a tenseness that appeared around his mouth.

“Anything wrong, Wolf?”

Wolf’s sharp blue eyes cleared as his head snapped around. “No. It should be fine,” was his vague reply.

Jorge had already tossed their abused baggage onboard the Niña, as he had affectionately named his small boat. The two men sucked in their doubts as to the seaworthiness of the Niña and followed their bags in a more orderly fashion.

As the small Evinrude motor coughed and sputtered to life, Lance quickly glanced around for life vests. Amused, Wolf watched his head swivel back and forth for a moment and then had to remind Lance of something. “We’re not in California any longer.”

As the jungle quickly enveloped them, Lance had to agree as he swatted a relentless buzzing sound that seemed to find him irresistible.

“Must be a female mosquito.” Wolf was beginning to enjoy this trip more and more.

Irritated, Lance waved his hand over his ear again. “I see they don’t seem to be bothering you at all.”

Wolf’s eyes narrowed. “They wouldn’t dare.”

Lance gave up on the ineffectual waving he had been doing since they left the dock. He was starting to relax and appreciate the lush greenery around them. “You know what this reminds me of? The Jungle Cruise back home. Walt must have been equally impressed by the sights. It’s beautiful.”

Wolf looked curiously into the water. He wondered which part of the Amazon or its tributaries had the flesh-eating piranhas. It would have been interesting to drop some of their lunch into the water and see the result. Purely educational, he told himself with a smile.

The two friends knew from their research of Walt’s trip that they had about thirty miles upriver to travel. The day was a balmy eighty degrees, not a cloud in the sky—when they could see the sky through the jungle canopy that sometimes spanned the moving waters.

It would be hours before they reached their destination and, not feeling a need to chat at the moment, all three men were lost in their own thoughts. Lance, invariably, turned to remembrances of Adam and Beth. How could a journey such as this not bring them to mind? If Adam had been the one who discovered their destination, they would have had more specific, detailed information about the area. Beth would have loved the beauty of the jungle and commenting on every parrot that screeched overhead or on the variety of flowers that profusely bloomed along the banks. He hadn’t nicknamed her Captain Obvious for no reason. He gave a silent sigh as he trailed a lazy finger in the water as they motored along. Then, remembering, as Wolf had done, that piranhas were native to South America, he hastily pulled his hand back into the small boat.

Wolf maintained a content, even look on his face, but his mind still worked around the word that Jorge had been unable—or unwilling—to translate. Wolf knew the translation, and it bothered him. Witch doctor would be the closest English words. He knew the wolf was important in many cultures’ beliefs and the fact that the rock formation they were seeking was called El Lobo, or The Wolf, all worked to make him wonder what exactly they would find at their journey’s end.

Jorge also thought of de tribu, only he wasn’t particularly worried. He had four religious medals fastened securely around his neck. There was also some garlic, two silver bullets, and a string of juju beads in the boat, just in case….

In the jungle, when darkness falls, it falls quickly. Lance had decided to take their journey on the river right after they arrived, rather than spend the night at one of the small motels in town and get a fresh start in the morning. He hoped their journey would end before sundown and would thus avoid spending the night in the jungle, but, if they had to, they had to. There were enough supplies to keep them fed, hydrated, and warm. Jorge didn’t seem to mind one way or the other. If their trip took two days instead of one, he would get double the fare.

In time, the Niña pulled into an almost-imperceptible cove. There was so much underbrush and so much moss hanging from the trees that Lance and Wolf were surprised when there was actually a sturdy post in place with which to tie up the little boat.

Jumping to shore, Lance looked eagerly around. He didn’t see any formation that might be worthy of being called El Lobo. In fact, he didn’t see any rock formations at all. Walking away from the river, he could hear the sound of running water coming from another direction. He turned to ask Wolf his opinion, but he could see that Wolf was apparently listening to something else. Turning his head this way and that, Lance couldn’t detect any unusual sound. Wolf was standing completely still, his head up and tilted to the side as if he heard something very faint. Lance saw his nostrils flare briefly.

“You just sniff the river, man? That’s probably not a good idea here.”

Wolf turned back to Lance. The distracted look on his face was as if he couldn’t remember where they were or why they were there. That look passed in an instant. “No, I was just listening to the sounds coming from the jungle.” The statement in itself was true, but his eyes said something different.

With the realization that Wolf wouldn’t tell him anything unless he wanted to, Lance let it go. They were so close to their goal that he was excited to get moving. “So, which way do we go? I think I hear another river or stream or something over that way,” he offered, pointing vaguely to the west.

After conferring in Spanish with Jorge, Wolf nodded. “You’re right. Let me grab the flashlights and the shovel while Jorge gets a fire going.” He paused, glancing up at the sky. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until morning? It’ll be dark soon.”

“No, let’s get going. If we don’t find what we need, we can go back in the morning. If we do find it today, we can go home tomorrow.” The last word was accented by a slap against his neck as another mosquito died. “One down. Twenty million to go.”

“Is the jungle losing its appeal for you already?”

“Something like that.” A shriek from a nearby parrot almost drowned his words.

They could see a faint path that lead away from their clearing through the jungle. The men could tell others had made this journey since Walt’s time. That made Lance all the more certain they were on the right path.

With Lance taking the lead with one of the flashlights, Wolf brought up the rear. Jorge had no desire to go see El Lobo. He got paid whether they came back or not. Wolf could hear the whisperings of a breeze as it filtered through the jungle canopy. Only…he wasn’t sure it was a breeze. He felt his heartbeat pick up a bit.

Lance’s flashlight played over the huge formation in front of them. He was fascinated by the rocks and the fact that he was in yet another place where Walt himself had walked decades ago. Knowing how he and Adam had found the clues before, he got to work making a systematic sweep over the entire formation with his flashlight. He was going to ask Wolf to lend a hand, but, on turning around, he could see that Wolf had company.

Wolf stood tall and wary as the dark figure emerged from the depths of the jungle. Their eyes locked as the older man slowly approached the dark, tall Wolf. He got within twenty feet of Wolf and stopped. Squatting down, he made a show of lighting the torch that was pulled out of the cloth pack he carried on his back. The flint sparked and caught, and suddenly the clearing was bathed in light. In the flickering, waving light, the stranger was much older than Wolf had thought at first. Lines appeared deeply etched in his face. His black eyes were cloudy, a whitish film covered the left eye completely. Dressed in worn, loose clothes, there was nothing remarkable about his outfit except for the decoration that hung around his neck. The necklace was made from teeth—sharp canine teeth. Wolf recognized them as wolf teeth.

Wolf had been aware that they had been followed for the last ten miles of their trip. As he was now being scrutinized, Wolf said nothing. Out of respect for the other man’s advanced age, he would let de tribu speak first about what was on his mind.

He was inwardly surprised when the man spoke to him in his native language. “Wóciciyaka wácin.”

Wolf answered him in English. “Then speak. Wóglake.”

De tribu was unfazed by the English words. “Tukténitaŋhaŋ he?”

“Does it matter where I come from? I am here now.”

“You have been here before.”

Wolf’s eyes widened. That was the only indication of the surprise the words invoked in him. “You’re wrong. I’ve never made this journey.”

De tribu saw the astonishment that quickly passed over Wolf’s dark eyes. “Watohal.”

Wolf’s cool demeanor almost fell with that one word. The future?

But the tribal healer was not through with Wolf. He switched to Spanish. “Debe proteger el corazón.”

“Protect what heart? ¿De qué estás hablando?” What are you talking about?

The older man pointed at Wolf with his blazing torch. “No puede caer en malas manos.”

Wolf didn’t move when the torch was thrust at him. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘wrong hands’. I’m just here with my friend.” He switched back to his Lakota tongue. “Wo iyokihi mitawa sni.” Not my responsibility, he spoke clearly and slowly.

“Iye tawci un.” It will be, was the prophecy spoken just as clearly and just as slowly. De tribu advanced two steps toward Wolf. He seemed hesitant to approach any further. Lowering his voice, he switched back to Spanish, “Yo se que eres.” I know what you are.

Wolf lifted his head and straightened his shoulders. Pride emanated from him. He glared at the older man, daring him to continue.

De tribu didn’t take the challenge. Now was not the time. “Ekta gni.” Go back.

Wolf snorted at him and turned his back. This man was dismissed. Wolf had no further use for him or his mysterious words and would listen to no more. Now was not the time.

Recognizing the gesture, the older man went to the stream and, with one grandiose gesture, doused his torch. By the time Lance’s eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness, de tribu had vanished back into the jungle.

Lance, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet through that fascinating interchange, looked from the dark jungle back to Wolf for an explanation.

“What was that all about? Who was that? What did he say?”

“He said ‘Yo se que eres’,” repeated Wolf flatly.

Lance just stared at him for a moment. “Yeah, that’s what it sounded like. But what does it mean?”

“He wished a good journey.” Wolf, for once, was glad of Lance’s inability to speak Spanish.

Lance was about to mention body language again, but, by the dark look on Wolf’s face, he decided to let it go for now. They did have a long flight home. He would find out more at that time.

“That’s nice,” Lance commented dryly. “Do you think you could help me look for the clue now?”

At Wolf’s blank look, Lance knew the interview with the stranger had affected Wolf profoundly.

“Walt. Clue. El Lobo.”

Silently, Wolf nodded and moved toward the rock formation. As he began a search pattern over the rough surface, Lance noticed Wolf’s eyes were narrowed and angry. Now his curiosity was really piqued.

Minutes later, Wolf had stopped. “What is it we are looking for exactly?”

“That’s been the problem all along. We never know for sure. The most common find were the initials WED. That turned out to be our indicator.”

“You mean like these?” Wolf pointed his flashlight low on the clearing side of the rocks.

Excited, Lance ran around to where Wolf indicated. “Yes! That has to be it! Why don’t you start digging right there?”

Knowing Lance’s propensity to avoid both laborious work and getting dirty, Wolf rolled his eyes and reached for the shovel Lance helpfully held out to him. The tip of the shovel bit into the fertile, dark earth. It seemed like mere moments before the tip of the blade struck something hard. With the hope that it wasn’t yet another rock, Lance swung his flashlight over the freshly-turned dirt. Wolf moved aside more of the loamy soil. The small beam of light caught on a different color—gray.

Eager, Lance motioned with his light for Wolf to keep digging. Smiling to himself at his partner’s lack of manual exertion, Wolf carefully continued to unearth what turned out to be a wide, flat plastic container. Since this was the first time Wolf had been in on a find, he felt some of Lance’s excitement override his disturbing interview with de tribu.

When the container was sufficiently clear of dirt for Lance’s approval, he reached into the hole to retrieve it. “This is shaped like the capsule we found inside Walt’s desk in the Opera House.” Lance couldn’t take his eyes off the container. In the desk they had found twelve hand-painted animation cels from Snow White inside that capsule. Some of those cels had been part of the parcel Beth and Adam had loaned to Disneyland to get her job back. Well, thought Lance, feeling generous at this point, they werewelcome to them. Whatever was here, whatever was to come, he hoped would have meaning and value to him.

Wolf broke into his train of thought. “Is this what you usually found?”

Still staring at the gray capsule in his hands, Lance had actually forgotten Wolf was there with him. “What? Oh, yes, it is. Do you want to open it here or when we get back to the harbor?”

Wolf raised one shoulder in an uninterested shrug. His attention was elsewhere again. His eyes were busy scanning the jungle, distracted. “It’s your call.”

Lance looked back at the prize in his hands. He really didn’t want to open it here or in their impromptu camp. “Why don’t we just stash it in your pack and open it in private later?”

Wolf silently took the capsule and didn’t even glance at it as he put it in his backpack. He seemed on the alert again, tense.

When the capsule disappeared from his vision, Lance’s attention turned to his partner. He noticed Wolf’s wary stance. His Security partner had the reputation on the job of finding every person trying to hide out in the Park. Lance wondered what was making him edgy. “Is everything all right, Wolf? You look as if you expect poisoned arrows to come flying out of the jungle.”

After a final, searching look into the darkness, Wolf turned to lead them back to camp. “I don’t think they use arrows any longer.”

Lance’s eyes got wide when he realized what Wolf had just said. They walked a little faster over the dark, rocky path as it wound its way back to Jorge and his welcome campfire.

When the two friends emerged from the jungle, Jorge anxiously looked from one man to the other, silently observing at the troubled look on the dark one’s face. Knowing this jungle, knowing what might lurk in the depths, his hand involuntarily went up to caress one of the medals that hung from his neck. His lips moving in a silent invocation, he motioned the others to the food he had warming over the fire. Lance, his good mood back at the mention of a hot meal, chatted with Jorge about the river, his life here, and if he had ever made any trips to the Amazon itself. He didn’t notice Wolf ate no food or took no part in their conversation.

After Lance and Jorge had retired to their sleeping bags to try and get some sleep before dawn arrived, Wolf stayed on guard. He sat with his back to the fire, not letting the brightness affect his night vision. His blue eyes never stopped moving. When all movement ceased from the two sleeping bags, when their breathing evened out, Wolf stood from his place near the fire. Eyes narrowed, he left the small clearing and silently blended into the darkness of the jungle.

Four days later, a travel-weary Lance let himself and Wolf into his apartment. His plan to get home early was dashed by a tropical storm that blew in over the Pacific and stopped all air traffic for two days. Once the storm cleared, the airport had become a clamoring mass of people all trying to get home.

Exhausted, Lance sprawled across his sofa. Wolf picked up one of his research books that was overdue at the library and began to idly thumb through it. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

Wolf raised one shoulder in a half shrug. “Not really. Must be superior breeding.”

Lance chuckled. He had used that same expression on Adam when Adam had trouble grasping the intricacies of rappelling. “That must be it.” With a groan he pushed to his feet and headed to the kitchen. “Gosh, I’m hungry.”

That earned a smile from Wolf. “You ate on the plane—and on the way home from the airport.”

The reply was muffled as it came from inside his empty refrigerator. “That was two hours ago. I really need to go shopping,” he mumbled more to himself than to Wolf.

The research book was tossed back onto the coffee table after Wolf glanced at the wall clock. “I need to get going. I really don’t want to watch you waste away from hunger.”

Surprised, Lance came back into the living room. “What? Don’t you want to be here when I open the capsule and see what’s inside? We did decide to wait until we got home, you remember.”

Wolf looked out the window of the small apartment toward the tiny, rectangular pool in the center of the complex. A few noisy children were happily splashing in the shallow end. “I appreciate the offer, but this quest is something I think you need to do.”

“But you went all the way to Columbia with me. Why would you do that if you weren’t really interested in it?”

Wolf just shrugged a shoulder again. “Because you asked me to go. In case you needed some help—as you did.” He wasn’t sure what Lance would have done with the language problem. Probably pulled out some dusty Latin phrases and tried those.

“And I was glad you were there. I was thinking you might want to work along with me to see where it goes.” Lance was again surprised by Wolf’s answer. He found all this fascinating. Apparently Wolf didn’t share the enthusiasm.

Wolf’s eyes looked like his mind was far away. “I need to go home for a few days. I need to speak to my father about something. I have an on-going situation of my own to deal with.”

“About that old man in the jungle?” Now Lance was really curious. Wolf didn’t talk about his family much. Okay, never…. And when he took off he’d be gone for days at a time. “Want some company?”

Not answering Lance’s questions, Wolf headed for the door. “In case you end up at the Park again tonight—as you always seem to do—be careful. It is going to be very foggy tonight.”

Frowning, Lance looked out the window. The sky was completely clear. “But….”

“Doka.” Wolf raised a hand.

Lance raised his hand in like manner. “What’s that? Good-bye?”

Wolf gave a small smile. “We don’t say good-bye. Doka means ‘see you later’.”

“Ah. Doka, Wolf. And thanks.”

Alone at the window, Lance watched his Security partner walk across the complex to his waiting Mustang GT. A rare feeling of loneliness and introspection swept over Lance. He wondered why Wolf wasn’t interested in what the gray capsule contained. Adam and Beth, he remembered, had been thrilled with every new discovery. “To each his own, I guess.”

A glance at the telephone had him wondering if he should call Kimberly to see how she was doing and to let her know that he was back. He looked out the window again and crossed his arms. Did she even know he had been gone? If she was her father’s daughter, she probably did. He was being tested, he knew that. Once he opened it, should he tell her about the capsule and what was in it? Did he really trust her? She had literally pushed him out of her house after her father suddenly died. Why didn’t she let him help? What was she hiding? Did she know about that strange old man in the jungle?

At this point, there were more questions than answers. And he wouldn’t find out anything if he continued to stand there and stare out the window. Pushing his prodigious hunger out of mind, he grabbed his suitcase off the recliner and took it into the bedroom. Pulling closed the thin drapes at the one window, he opened his travel bag and retrieved the eight-inch-long gray capsule.

Just like the capsules they found on their first journey, this one was likewise securely sealed at one end to protect it from the elements. It took most of Lance’s strength to pry off the end cap. The seal had done its job admirably, and the contents were dry and intact as Lance upended the capsule. Three sheets of paper fell out and fluttered to the bed. The smaller page was easily recognizable as a sheet torn out of Walt’s diary. The second sheet was a five-by-seven-inch piece of white animator’s paper. The third, protected between the first two sheets of paper, turned out to be a lone animation cel. Lance carefully picked it up by its edges.

The painted drawing on the clear sheet was a highly detailed, intricate wooden box with a large, red heart as its clasp. Plunged through the heart was a golden dagger with three jade green stones at the top of the hilt and at the ends of the handle. Lance frowned as he stared at the cel, not recognizing it. “Kinda gruesome.” There were swirls of blue and green in the face of the box, and a glow had been drawn around the entire box. “I should have kept some of the cels Adam got. At least they were recognizable from Snow White… Hey, hold on a minute….” He gently set the animation cel on the bedspread and went into the living room. Taking up one of the research books, he used the index in the back to find Snow White. Quickly turning through the pages of stills from the movie, he found a full page shot of the Evil Queen. There in her hands was the same box that was on the animation cel in his bedroom. “Okay, but it is still gruesome.” The caption under the picture told how the Evil Queen instructed the huntsman to bring Snow White’s heart in that box. “Gosh, I hope that isn’t a hint of what’s to come…,” he mumbled as he returned to the bedroom.

He next picked up the diary page and read what had to be another clue: “You don’t need to go to France to find this royal wolf’s castle.” A certain French foreign-exchange student he had met in college came swirling into his mind and he was somewhat disappointed he wouldn’t have to make a trip to France. He might not know how to speak Spanish, but he had found plenty of ways to be fluent in French.

The last piece of paper proved to be a tinted drawing. As it wasn’t signed, he wasn’t sure if it was drawn by Walt or not. The drawing was three coats of arms, or shields, sitting side-by-side in a row. The first one was a solid, dark blue with three fleurs-de-lis—two on top and one centered below the other two. The middle shield was a little more elaborate. Sitting on an off-white background were three standing birds, blue with white breasts. Coming up from the lower left side was a dark blue chevron that held three fancy crosses. The third shield was the one that caught Lance’s eye. It was a darker blue background than the first shield. Three gray stars were at the top edge. Under the stars was a large white animal standing on its hind legs, furry tail upright behind it. To Lance, it looked like a wolf, as might be suggested by the clue that accompanied the drawing. All three shields were on a soft pink background, the top of the pink had wide serrated edges, but was incomplete. Lance gave a half-grin. I guess you didn’t want to tell me exactly where to go, now did you, Walt?

Lance decided to go get something to eat before starting to figure out what the clue and the drawings meant. There was an inexpensive Chinese restaurant just down the street. The leftovers alone would keep him fed for a couple of days. Humming “Whistle While You Work”, he drove off in his dusty Jaguar.

A black Cadillac was parked five stalls down from Lance’s spot. As the Jag headed in the opposite direction, toward the main street, the side mirror of the Caddy was adjusted to watch the car’s progress. Smiling to himself, the driver bided his time to make sure the Jag didn’t suddenly come back for some reason. Just as Lance settled into the red leather seat of the restaurant, Daniel Crain was using a well-worn lock pick to let himself into Lance’s apartment.

At the window in the living room, he did a quick check to make sure Lance wasn’t somehow walking up the curved sidewalk. Daniel looked around the small living room and attached kitchen. The black leather sofa was the most dominant piece of furniture. A medium-sized TV stood on a low oak bookcase filled to the brim with leather-bound volumes. Not particularly interested in the furnishings, Daniel headed for the desk in the corner of the room. Careful not to disturb anything, he poked around in Lance’s desk drawers, looking for bank statements or anything he might be able to use against Lance later. When he heard footsteps on the walk outside, he hurried to the side of the window and peered out. He relaxed when the person kept walking past Lance’s section of the complex. Going back to the desk, he hesitated, not remembering if the checkbook was on top of the pile of papers, or where the gold letter opener he had examined had been placed. He swore out loud and chided himself for not paying more attention to the details. He put everything back to the best of his knowledge. Finding nothing of interest, Daniel pushed the chair back in place and headed to the kitchen.

He figured Lance would have a safe somewhere considering what he had overheard from his boss. Rich people always have safes. Or, former rich people. He gave a nasty snicker over Lance’s fall from grace. Opening every cupboard, he only found the usual mess in the usual kitchen. Lance obviously wasn’t a gourmet chef. Nor did he have a safe hidden in the kitchen.

Irritated that he had so far found nothing, Daniel made his way into Lance’s bedroom and gave a triumphant smile when he saw the three items Lance had left on the bed. He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. My, rather careless, aren’t we? Leaving out important items like this.” Forgetting to look further for a safe, he concentrated on the things piled on the bed. The drawing of the crests was moved to the side to get a better look at it. Taking a small digital camera out of his pocket, Daniel snapped a picture of each item so he could analyze them later. He glanced at the luggage tag that still hung off of Lance’s bag. “Columbia? So that’s where you went. My, for a penniless beggar, you do get around, don’t you?”

Happy with his discovery and certain he had left no traces, Daniel knew it was time to leave. Back into the living room, he resisted an overwhelming urge to steal or break something. Daniel gave a final look around the small apartment, snickering at the size and furnishings. “Hot shot lawyer,” he sneered, and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

Lance came back from dinner with a large paper sack filled with white take-out boxes from the Chinese restaurant. Along with the happiness of a full stomach, he had also gotten an interesting fortune cookie. “Love and prosperity will soon be yours.” He pulled it out of his pocket to read it again as he walked over to his desk. Still reading, he was surprised when he tripped over something. The leg of his chair was angled in such a way that it didn’t go all the way under the desk. That was odd, as he was sure he had pushed it completely under in that small room. Every inch of space helped.…

He fixed the chair with a mindless shrug and headed for the bedroom to look over the clue again. He had thought more of the French foreign-exchange student than the clue during dinner and needed to get his mind into Clue Mode again. The appreciative chuckle stopped in the middle of the room when he saw the three items spread out on the bed. He knew he had placed them in a neat pile. Hadn’t he?

Arms folded against his chest, he stared at the bed. He was pretty sure he had left them neat.… Maybe it was jet lag. It had been a strenuous trip.… Everything was still there.

Getsome sleep, Brentwood. You’re getting paranoid. And no more saké shots, he chided as he headed for the bathroom to get ready for bed.