Ted, at various times, sat with various women. An observer would have thought he belonged to Prudence at one dinner, to Mirriam at another, and to Flo..., if they’d been there when he sat with her. Her younger sisters, long used to the odd relationships that the Dalton women had with men, took everything in stride.Suzie was sixteen and, like Flo had at that age, seemed to have no interest in boys or men whatsoever. She was very serious about her studies because, of them all, she wanted to go to. An older man appeared from the back then and noticed the clerk’s expression.“Is something wrong, Wilson?” he asked.“No sir, these Federal Agents want to rent three cars,” he told the older man, who looked at us suspiciously.“What is the purpose of these rented cars,” he demanded, probably thinking that we wanted them for a raid or something.“We’re on leave and are going home for Christmas,” Chris told him.“And you require three vehicles for that?” he asked, still suspicious.“We’re going to. Sara had told Jenna about it as well and originally she concurred with Prue's diagnosis about Sara's pre-hospital jitters and the quality of the cuisine there, but that theory had been blown out of the water, as Sara had been midnight mall strolling again, at least half a dozen times over the last few weeks. Sadly for Sara she seemed to be stuck in a dream loop as she woke up each time the little shopkeeper started to speak. Jenna and Prue sifted through the details of Sara's dream, looking. No. I mean stinky like dead rank rotting flesh covered in sweat and crap and rolled in piss kind of stinky. I mean stinky like making your eyes water stinky. Those people were not clean. Second, they are not sanitary. When a Cro-Magnon goes and takes a shit, he does it down wind to be polite. Then, he wipes his shitty ass off with a bunch of grass and then he wipes his fingers on the grass. Then that filthy bastard comes right back to the fire and settles in to eat. He pats his mate on the face.