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Elliott when he's about to torpedo me.) "Where did you come up with this shit? It reads like something out of one of those supermarket rags." |
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This time I had him. "Does the name Brenda Cashman mean anything to you?" |
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He rolled his faded blue eyes and curled a few strands of his bushy white beard around his index finger while he referenced the name. "Sounds familiar. Why? Do I know her?" |
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"She was your graduate research assistant three years ago. You gave her excellent academic references when she applied to the University of Michigan for their doctoral program." |
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"Oh, yes, now I remember," he lied. In 30 years of banter, both serious and lighthearted, I have never known Cosmo to admit being wrong or forgetful. His ego just won't permit it. But the ravages of time were coming down on him and occasionally it showed. "What's all this have to do with her?" he grunted. |
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I leaned back, riffled through the stack of papers and asked myself how much further I wanted to push this whole affair. "Brenda Cashman sent me these documents. She said she was doing some research and ran across the first incident, the report from Choker Point. She said she poked around some, but she wasn't able to uncover anything else on it." |
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