Swamped

For a start, you don't want to say too much in front of the woman from the orphanage. Asking her to leave should reduce the tension a bit and make your request come along more smoothly. And you've got a good idea on where to begin with that.

"Let's start by taking care of you," you say, turning to her. "I'm not sure how safe it is out here tonight, but the council hall's right over there. If we had someone who could get you in, without breaking the lock, that would probably be the fastest way to get you out of harm's way. Don't know how far off your home is."

"I do think it's not a night to be staying out if I can help it," she agrees. "And home is at least half a mile away. If she can get me in, I'm for it."

The thief looks a little suspicious, but she soon speaks up.

"I can get the door open, and the lock should still be good. Won't take three minutes."

Arlene leads her over, and you follow. She pulls an odd tool out of her belt and gets to work on the door.

You wonder where she got that and learned to use it. But you don't think it's a productive line of questioning right now.

"Done," she says after a bit, opening the door. "Lock it behind you and it'll work just fine."

"Thank you," says the woman from the orphanage. "I don't know what I'm going to do about the rendezvous I was expecting, but I suppose that's not my main concern right now."

She goes inside, and closes the door. You start walking back towards the grove.

"Now we can talk a little more freely," you tell her. "So here's the real mission."

You pull out the sausage.

"This is illegal contraband. Specifically, we think it's illegal contraband somebody wanted to plant on one of their potential enemies."

"And what's that got to do with me?" she asks. She seems real uncomfortable. Maybe she planted something in the council hall rather than stealing it. But she also didn't seem too concerned about letting someone go in there to poke around.

"Well, I don't want to be caught carrying it. But I don't want to just get someone else in trouble. So go figure out a safe way to dispose of it. And see if you catch anyone's attention while you do."

She looks at the sausage, stares for a while, then grabs it out of your hand.

"I don't know any place around here," she grumbles. "How am I supposed to find a place to get rid of this? I don't even know where there's any place with a stove to cook it on."

"Wouldn't advise eating it," Arlene interjects. "There's weird stuff on it. Don't go dumping it into the ocean, either."

"So what exactly does that leave me?"

"I'm sure you can figure something out," Arlene says with a shrug.

She scowls at you, but runs off. So she's sincere, at least - she may just want to be gone, but she's not abandoning the job.

"Don't know what you were thinking, but it's just the two of us now," says Arlene. "So what did you have in mind?"

"The person Mortimer was tracking," you say. "Did he have a pet with him?"

"Didn't notice one. Though Mortimer got a better look than I did. Why do you ask?"

"There was a strange creature nearby. Our guest from a moment ago caught sight of it. I want to track it."

"Sure," Arlene says, shrugging. "How do you suggest we go about that?"