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Show Coffee Drinkers Preferred • Page 45 of 307 Steve opened the door. "Your generation. I can't believe it." "Do you have any coffee?" He poured me a cup and handed it to me as he walked to his flat screens. "This is a tough one. I can usually find people like that." He snapped his fingers. "But something is wrong here. I followed this young lady through three states. She started here in Utah and went to New Mexico, Arizona and Nevada. Little traces over the last two years. I had her in Las Vegas. Well, I thought I did. But she's gone." "Who's looking?" "Listen, Nephi. I can't tell you who my clients are unless you absolutely need to know. And you don't. Here." He put a laptop on the desk in front of me, flipped it open and turned it on. It needed a password to open. "I've set this up for you. Username is ''knuckle' and the password is 'sandwich'." "Is that supposed to be funny?" I asked. "No, it's a reminder of what will happen to you if you bust my laptop." I had a few choice username and password combinations that I would have loved to share with Steve, but he was helping push my pitiful bank account into an area where stark terror did not hit me every time I peeked at the balance, so I bit my tongue. "I've got some tools for you that will allow you to hammer most networks. You need to spend less time worrying about getting |