Page 84 of Perilous

“Oh, no, Holom,” I say with thick sarcasm. “You seem really drunk. Let me help you…”

I step back and watch him stumble a little bit more. He finally collapses down to the floor, spilling his drink next to him.

“Finally,” I say.

I step over Holom Alistair’s drugged up, passed out body so I can get to the real purpose of my visit here.

* * *

His desktop computerand his laptop are password protected, as expected.

The laptop though has a spot at the top right corner for fingerprint scanning to get into it. That leaves me crouching down next to Holom and using his right thumb to get into the laptop. For good measure I also stick my fingers against the side of his neck and check for a pulse.

He’s got one. It’s weak but it’s not threatening. He’s completely drunk and drugged, floating in some other universe right now. He’ll wake up tomorrow, face down on the floor with his glass next to him and he’ll try to piece things together but not much of it will make sense. Hell, he might not even remember me being here. Or if he does, he’ll question whether it was real or a dream.

I walk Holom’s laptop back to his all-glass desk and sit down in his ergonomic chair.

What the fuck am I looking for?

Logic tells me anything really bad would not be sitting right on the home screen.

I click through some files, stumbling across business plans, legal documents, and financials.

I back out of all those folders. I sit. I think. I click another folder.

Images.

There’s a whole bunch of folders waiting.

Donahue Expansion.I click that folder. There’s a bunch of pictures of a building. I begin the task of clicking through every folder, name after name, project after project, until I finally stumble across something.

A folder labeledRia T. Sila.

I want to know who the fuckRiais. Then it hits me. The folder name is just Alistair spelled backward.

“No fucking way,” I whisper as I shake my head.

That seems as stupid as naming a folder full of porn asNOT PORN.Or naming itNrop.

The first two rows are pictures of trees. Another row is various parks. Then a row of waterfalls. Then there’s another folder waiting. LabeledOTHER.

I double click that folder and…

“Motherfucker,” I say out loud.

I look around for a printer and see one on the bottom right shelf of the desk.

A few clicks and a few seconds later, I have something to look at. Something to study. Something to keep tucked away for now.

But I’m not done yet.

I close the folders and the laptop and work my way to Holom’s bedroom. The bed is a mess, which surprises me.

There’s also a faint smell in the air. Perfume and sex. When I see a purple thong on the floor, I shake my head. Looks like Holom has been seeking some relief.

I walk around the bedroom and check the bathroom, the closet, the dresser drawers. Everything is in order and in perfect condition. It’s almost too organized.

On a whim I look under the bed and there’s a black box under it. I have to see what’s inside. Weapons? Drugs? Sex toys? Maybe a collection of teeth and Holom is secretly a serial killer.

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