She says, 'Wow, ride up north in a house trailer.' Ross says no, a motor home, with a built-in bar, the whole thing custom-designed and equipped, including a chauffeur. And she says, very innocently, 'Gee, I don't know, sport. I don't know if I'd be able to handle it, a custom-designed motor home.' You know, putting him on a little. He says, 'I got a ski lodge up there, near Gaylord. I own it.' She says, 'That sounds great. What do you ski on this time of the year, the grass?' "

O'Boyle, watching the tape recorder, looked up. "She used the word sport. That's what the guy called you a couple of times, didn't he?"

Mitchell paused, nodding. "You're right."

"Go on. Wait a minute," O'Boyle said then. "If she doesn't work in the place and I assume she's not a hustler, what was she doing there?"

"A friend worked there. Cini used to pick her up sometimes, drive her home."

"Where did Cini work?"

"I'll get to that," Mitchell said. "I didn't start talking to her until her friend joined us. Actually I came back from the can and the other girl's there and Ross's already switched over, giving her the business. So I sat down next to Cini."

"You know the friend's name?"

"I forgot. Donna. No, Doreen something or other. She's black. The best-looking black girl I ever saw. That's why Ross jumped on her. Really good-looking." Mitchell paused.

"Go on," O'Boyle said.

"I don't remember how Cini and I started talking. I mean, what about. But it was nice. She didn't give me the innocent big eyes she gave Ross. We just started talking-I think about meeting people, you know? How people meet and start dating and then sometimes they get married. She told me she was married when she was eighteen and divorced two years later. So now she was taking a secretarial course at Wayne, night school, and working as a model during the day."

"What kind of model? Ads? Commercials?"