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Show Coffee Drinkers Preferred Page 7 of 307 the entire place was the fortified air conditioning which offered tremendous relief from the glaring Utah sun that I had just escaped. I glanced into his small kitchen area and saw that the trash had not been emptied in forever and that he was working on filling Glad trash can bag number three. The air-conditioning also helped work the sweet stench of all this garbage down into the bearable zone. It however could do little for the stink of what must have been a two-packs-of-cigarettes-a-day habit, and from the look of the contents of his trash, at least a case of beer a day. There were a few empty quart containers of scotch as well. Steve was nothing if not thorough it would appear. I had never met a private detective before so I had no idea how typical he was. I knew he was no Magnum P.I. but then again, this was no Honolulu. One of his flat-screens proudly proclaimed a list of graduates from the Masters Program in English at the University Of r Utah - My Alma Mater. My name was on the screen. Toward the top, but only because my cognomen begins with A. Another screen revealed my account with the Central Utah Telephone Company. This page showed my phone number and the last several months of billing records. Another page featured the banking records and social security number of your Now Not Feeling So Nice Nephi. I began to use the mouse to bring other open |