"Scotch. Single malt. No ice."Mickey left to get the drinks, and she turned to face me. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, copper? You lo...kin' for loot, or a body?" The name's Sam, and it's P.I., not P.D. And what I'm lookin' for is information about this 'Mesmer' fella' who's performing here tonight."She mulled this over a moment as Mickey brought back our drinks. She knocked hers back with one swallow, then stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray on the bar."Why don't you come. When I blinked thickly my eyes opened to reveal my son's messy room. I had somehow found myself standing in the open doorway and no memory of actually taking the steps to get there.Almost as if I did not need to consciously formulate what needed to be done, I knew, deep down, that I needed to know!I took a few steps into the room and turned on his computer, the best our sparse budget could afford about fourteen months ago and then a few upgrades from my son's earned savings.Enter BIOS. More

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