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Show Coffee Drinkers Preferred Page 12 of 307 screens on which my life had been dissected. "So... you're the Internet Research instructor at Snow?"' Nephi knows when to come clean. "One of them." "And you got yourself a Masters in Lit from the University of Utah?" He looked at the screen. He wasn't trying to hide any of his snooping and he wasn't rubbing my face in it. Hmm... Not- Reliable-Narrator-Nephi had jumped to yet another conclusion. I had thought he was playing some kind of strange The Usual Suspects meets Hannibal Lector mind game with me. He wasn't. He was just a straight shooting alcoholic Sanpeter with far too many computer skills. "A lit degree is mostly research," I said. "Good. I do a lot of records searches. Sometimes I'm working on skip traces. I'll never tell you who my clients are unless you need to know. I never know how much work I'll have for you. Some weeks it might be as little as five hours. Other weeks I may need to go out of town and you'd have your hands full. If something comes up that I can't do, would you mind traveling?" "It's summer and I'm not teaching." So I had been wrong about him. Not about his being old. He was in his sixties I think. But he was not the strange calculating machiavel I had envisioned. His face'was weathered and weary, and his eyes were red-rimmed and drooped. The capillary damage at the end of his nose managed to come off as |