In Deep Shitake (A Humorous Romantic Suspense)

by Patricia Mason

  “I’m your only sibling,” Leo replied.

  “A mere technicality.” Mo laughed. “We’re trying to find someone in this horde.” She motioned to the monitors. “You know Clarence from the agency?”

  “Yeah. Squirrelly guy. And who’s he?” Leo asked, looking at Ross. Sudden recognition struck. “Hey, you’re—”

  Ross felt himself inhale and stiffen for the blow.

  “Ross Grant.”

  He exhaled in pleased relief.

  Leo held out his hand and then Ross clasped it in a firm shake.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Ross said.

  “I thought your portrayal of that doctor battling drug addiction in High Medicine was inspiring.”

  Mo’s expression was pricelessly surprised.

  “Thank you,” Ross said with what he knew must be a sillysmile. “It’s very refreshing to have someone mention any of my work apart from the Stephen Dagger character.”

  Leo grinned. “Oh. The Stephen Dagger character. I remember a certain poster…” He looked archly at Mo who glared in return.

  Her expression said “Don’t you dare.”

  Ross wondered what she didn’t want her brother to say?

  * * * * *

  Mo knew she would have to kill her brother if he kept this up. He could tell she was squirming and he thought her discomfort was oh so funny. Leo knew very well that Mo wouldn’t want Ross hearing about the Stephen Dagger poster she once had. No doubt, if he wanted to, Leo could phrase the disclosure of the information for Mo’s maximum discomfort.

  With a gleam in his eye, Leo opened his mouth.

  “Dammit.” The old guard at the monitors swore and stood up. “Those animal characters in the Japanese anime room are at it again. They seem to think this is some kind of plushy convention.” The guard grabbed a walkie-talkie from the desk. He marched toward the door and then threw it open. “And those temporary guys we hired are on break again. Great. Just great. This is the fifth time today that I’ve had to break up a furry orgy,” he groused.

  “Go ahead,” Leo said. “I’ll keep an eye on the monitors.”

  “Stupid fur balls,” the guard muttered as he pulled the door shut behind him.

  “Where were we? Oh yes, I was reminiscing about the Stephen Dagger poster,” Leo said. “I remember seeing that poster—”

  “Never mind that. We need to find Clarence,” Mo interrupted. “He probably arrived about an hour ago.”

  Leo allowed himself to be diverted. Mo knew she was going to hear about this later. He would claim she owed him big time.

  “It shouldn’t be hard to find him if he’s here.” Leo returned to his computer to sit down. A few keystrokes later, he brought up a digital image of the line of conventioneers at the entrance to the center. At the front of the line was a Freddie Kruger look-a-like. Behind him stood a wookie. And behind him was...son of a buscuit!

  “Is that a live image?” Mo asked.

  Leo nodded.

  “Why? What do you see?” Ross asked coming closer. “Is it Clarence?”

  “No. It’s nothing,” Mo answered, waving at Leo to continue running the cameras.

  A click of the mouse and the images moved to fast rewind. The line of conventioneers moved backward. Should she tell Ross she’d seen Milton waiting to get in? No. Such a revelation would open a whole new set of issues. She would just have to make sure they avoided the reporter.

  Leo glanced over his shoulder. “Are you Mo’s boyfriend?”

  “No,” Mo shouted. Lowering her voice, she said, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Lover?”

  “Leo. Shut the duck up.”

  Peering over Leo’s shoulder, Mo scanned the crowd. After a few seconds she spotted what she was looking for. “Stop.”

  Leo clicked the mouse and the image froze.

  “There he is.” Mo pointed to the screen. Between Dracula and a Vulcan stood Clarence in his Stephen Dagger costume. The outfit consisted of a body hugging black shirt tucked into tight black leather pants. On his feet were black biker-type leather boots. Clarence had even styled his hair like the super spy. The black shoulder length hair had been slicked back, except for the front bang, which fell in a curl on his forehead. Signature Dagger.

  Now that he was wearing the garb, and with that hairstyle, Clarence did have a decent resemblance to Ross acting as Stephen Dagger. Of course, the gawky and lank Clarence didn’t have the muscular build to fill out the clothing the way Ross would have.

  “Whoa. That’s a really big gun he’s got there,” Leo observed.

  Clarence did indeed have a replica of the trademark super spy gun tucked in a holster at his side.

  Ross pressed against Mo’s back and peered over her head at the computer screen. She glanced over her shoulder at him. Ross’s expression was impassive. Whatever his reaction to seeing a Stephen Dagger doppelganger, he was hiding it. He stared coldly at the image of Clarence that was still paused on the computer screen.

  Now that she noticed his nearness, Ross was having a significantly detrimental effect on the regularity of her heartbeat. Could he see the speed of it in the pulse at the base of her neck? Mo straightened and found herself eye-to-eye with Ross. There was barely three inches between their lips. The temptation was strong to lean forward and press her mouth to his. Kissing him would be so easy, but at the same time to difficult. Taking that kind of action would tell him clearly she was attracted to him. She couldn't reveal such potentially humiliating information and put herself at a disadvantage. She had to stay in control.

  A tense silence stretched between them.

  “Is your gun that big?” Mo taunted trying to break the tension.

  “It’s…” Ross stared into her eyes and then glanced down at her lips and winked as he said, "bigger.”

  “Watch it. That’s my sister you’re talking to,” Leo inserted.

  Fortunately, Ross was amused. “Yes, sir.” He gave Leo a mock salute with two fingers to his forehead.

  “Let’s see where Clarence went from there.” Leo brought their attention back to the computer. He typed away on the keyboard and abruptly the image was replaced with one of an interior corridor just inside the entrance to the building. Clarence fast-forwarded across the screen.

  Leo manipulated the computer images, clicking from one camera to the next, following Clarence as he progressed double-quick toward the main hall. Then Clarence stopped at a booth stocked with movie weaponry.

  “It looks like he’s at Booth 113.” Leo tapped the screen. “This camera shot is live.”

  The image zoomed in on Clarence examining an evil looking sword. He ran his finger along the edge and then brought it to his mouth and sucked as if he’d drawn blood. Still, Clarence examined the weapon covetously.

  As far as Mo could recall, Stephen Dagger hadn’t used any swords in SpyMatrix. Maybe the receptionist was thinking about branching out into another character. Clarence the Barbarian.

  “Let’s get him,” Mo said.

  Ross nodded as he hurried out of the small room.

  Leo placed his hand on Mo’s arm, stopping her from following Ross. “Sis, why don’t you lay off the witty comebacks? I can tell you like this guy.” Leo’s expression was serious.

  “I just met him,” Mo sputtered, trying to tug out of his hold.

  “Yes, but you use a tough, snarky exterior as a shield and that’s intimidating to a guy. From the way he looks at you, I can tell Ross likes you too.” Leo squeezed her arm.

  “How does he look at me?” she asked, wishing she didn't want to know

  “Like he’s…like he’s licking you with his eyes."

  Ooooh. That was evocative.

  “Well, props to me that the big celeb wants to lick me. But with his eyes? Ew,” Mo joked.

  “There you go with the snark. All I’m saying is ease up a little and give Ross a chance.”

  Yeah right. Famous last words. “A chance to cut my heart out?” Mo tugged her arm and, this time,
Leo let go. “I gotta find Clarence.”

  “Just think about what I said.”

  She definitely didn’t want to think about his advice, but she probably would anyway. Right now she had other things to worry about. Like finding Clarence.

  * * * * *

  The main hall area had been set up in aisles with booths offering every sort of cinema related product or service. From the expected booth offering DVD movies for sale to the unexpected booth offering a product described as extraterrestrial munchies, it was all there. Mo and Ross headed toward the weaponry booth—intermittently visible through the passing clusters of costumed conventioneers—about seventy feet away from the entrance to the hall.

  “There’s Clarence.” Mo pointed to their target as he continued to examine the sword.

  Ross charged forward.

  “Wait.” Mo tugged on the back of his shirt and they stopped near a booth with a sign that proclaimed: Costumes for Rent. Clarence was now brandishing the sword experimentally fifty feet away.

  “I think I should talk to him alone,” she stated.

  “What is it now? Client confidentiality again? Don’t you recall that I’m the client now?”

  Mo shook her head. “No, it’s not that. We don’t know how Clarence will react to seeing you. He obviously had a fixation on Stephen Dagger. He could freak out when he comes face-to-face with the real Dagger.”

  Ross turned an evil eye on her. Before he could respond, she said, “I know you’re not Dagger, but you’re as close to the real Dagger as there is in this universe. I don’t think it would be a good idea for two Daggers to meet because…” She searched her mind for some persuasive argument. Inspiration struck. “Isn’t there some kind of rule that two Kirk’s can’t meet face-to-face without a matter and antimatter explosion destroying the universe or something?”

  “What the bloody hell are you talking about, woman? Who is Kirk and what does he have to do with this?” Ross squawked. “Are you saying that it could cause an explosion if I question this Clarence bloke? I don’t see how that is possible given the laws of physics.”

  Mo resisted the urge to check whether the word geek had suddenly appeared on her forehead. “Bad analogy. Just something from the television reruns of my childhood.” Mo glanced at three passing youths dressed in futuristic military uniforms. “Must have been the surroundings that got to me. Forget it.”

  He stared at her in wonderment. “You really are a nutter.” He shook his head. “We’re wasting time.” Ross started forward again. One megastep, then two. Mo trotted along behind him.

  A group of young men dressed as pirates crossed in front of them and then stopped, blocking Clarence from view. The swashbucklers began to argue boisterously with one another about whether the second Pirates movie was better than the first. “I think we should go to the back-to-back movie showing they have here in the Continental Room to settle this once and for all,” one youth dressed as pirate captain said to the group.

  “Yeah,” another one, also dressed as a captain agreed.

  They were all Captains. Captains with very heavy eyeliner.

  “Excuse us,” Ross said, pushing his way through the group.

  The group parted and Clarence became visible again. He wasn’t holding the sword now. The sword had been placed back on a rack on the wall of the booth. However, Clarence was holding something else. The hand of a tall blonde. The woman turned.

  “Heather,” Ross gasped.

  * * * * *

  Ross and Mo lurked near the costume rental booth observing Clarence and his companion from behind a rack of what looked like cartoon animal hides. The heads, with their enormous glassy eyes, hung back as if someone had broken their necks.

  “That’s Heather, my girlfriend—I mean ex-girlfriend,” Ross mumbled.

  “Can’t decide if she’s an ex or not?” Mo couldn't help the arch in her eyebrow. Was that jealousy in her tone? She’d better watch that. She didn’t want Ross to get the wrong idea. But she did have to admit to herself she was jealous.

  Peering at Heather over the rack of fake animal skins, Mo found herself digging her fingernails into the bunny head in front of her. The beauteous Heather chattered to a nodding, but solemn, Clarence. Heather twirled a golden curl with one hand partially obscuring her face. For fries’ sake, the woman had to be at least six feet tall, with legs at least five of those feet. And talk about thin. She was probably only about one hundred pounds.

  “She doesn’t eat, does she?” Mo commented.

  “What does that matter right now?”

  “It’ll just make me feel better.”

  “Then I’m sorry to tell you that Heather eats all the time. She has to eat constantly or she becomes too thin.”

  “That’s just not right. Oh I see! She worships at the porcelain altar then?”

  “What?” Ross said in confusion.

  “Bulimia?”

  “Is this important?”

  Heather passed her hand through her hair, fluffing the long blonde locks, and then struck a pose in a white mini halter dress that Mo had only seen in vogue. Mo had hated her on first sight but even more now.

  “It appears that I was right,” Mo said. “Your girlfriend is obviously the one who convinced Clarence to have me break into your car.”

  “Ex-girlfriend, if you please. And nothing is obvious in this scenario.”

  “Why would he be talking to Heather if she wasn’t involved?”

  Mo saw Heather clutch Clarence’s arm and then she furtively surveyed the crowd around her. Mo and Ross ducked simultaneously behind a teddy bear head.

  They each inched their heads up to peek over the bar of the costume rack and found themselves face-to-face with a young woman wearing a nametag that read Susie, Costume Adviser.

  “Are you two going to rent those costumes or just pet them all day?” Susie carped with a pinched expression on her face.

  Susie was probably twenty and dressed in a black leotard with pink ballet tutu. Realistic cat ears sprouted up from the top of either side of her head. Susie’s face was a heart shape with a pointed chin. If she hadn’t worn the ears she would still have resembled a cat with her petite upturned nose and slanted green eyes.

  Mo glanced around Susie and saw Heather lean toward Clarence, gesturing animatedly while she talked. Satisfied that the subjects hadn’t escaped, Mo turned her attention to the costume rental clerk.

  “Thank you, but I don’t think we need costumes.”

  Susie’s right eyebrow spiked as she scanned first Ross and then Mo. “You look okay,” she said to Ross. “Great Stephen Dagger make-up. Although, you could use a big gun and a little restyling of your hair.”

  “Brilliant. Thanks. I’ll take that under advisement.” Ross had a large dollop of sarcasm in his tone.

  “But you,” Susie spoke to Mo. “You’re in serious need of a costume. What are you dressed as? A librarian?”

  “What?” Mo sputtered, looking down at herself. This skirt and blouse combo was one of her favorite outfits.

  “What movie is that costume from? Grumpy old women?”

  Ross’s snicker was cut off as he coughed into his fist.

  “I didn’t say it.” He cocked his head toward Susie. “She did.”

  “Yeah, but you thought it was funny,” Mo complained.

  “No, I didn’t.” He widened his eyes in mock innocence, which slowly dissolved into a smile. “Maybe a tad bit funny.”

  “Hardee har har har,” Mo said.

  Heather was still talking as Clarence nodded. Cream cheese. Did the girl ever run out of things to say?

  “Listen,” Mo said to Ross. “Maybe we should rent costumes if we’re going to follow those two around. That way we wouldn’t have to keep hiding behind stuffed toys.”

  “They’re Japanese anime characters.” Susie huffed with disgust.

  Mo ignored her comment. “They’ve got a replica of the big gun here and you’re obviously a natural for a costume of —”


  “If you say the name Stephen Dagger I’ll go barking.”

  “Go where?”

  “Barking mad, totally insane.”

  “Okay, then. You’re a natural for a costume of the nameless one.”

  Ross rolled his eyes. “And what will your costume be?”

  Mo looked around the booth and spotted something in the corner. “What about a southern belle?” Mo spoke in her most extreme drawl and gave an exaggerated batting of her eyes. She motioned toward the replica of a Civil War era ball gown.

  “Cute, but you need something with a head or the lad will recognize you.”

  “Of course, that means I’m going to have an itchy and hot costume, but you have a point.” Mo turned to Susie. “Oh well. If I have to be an animal, I want to be a cat. Those ears are very realistic. Do you have any more of them?”

  "These aren't part of a costume." Susie grabbed Mo’s hand and then brought it to the top of her head to stroke her ears. “See? They’re real.”

  Mo squeezed the pointed end of one ear and began to stroke the fur. “They’re quite soft too.” When she noticed what she was doing, she jerked her hand away. “You were born with cat ears?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Susie laughed and reached up to push her black, chin-length bob behind two very human ears. “These are my biological ears. The cat ears are implants I got last year.”

  “They aren’t covered in actual cat fur are they?” Ross asked. “I’m terribly allergic to cats.”

  “No it’s not actual cat fur.”

  Ross moved in closer and inspected Susie’s head. “I have to say those ears are truly bizarre.”

  “Not at all,” Susie said happily. “It’s quite natural really. I’m a trans-species.”

  “A what?” Mo asked.

  “You’ve heard of transsexuals. An example of that would be a guy who feels he’s a woman in a man’s body. The guy gets surgery to become a woman, right? Well, I’m a trans-species. I’m a cat born in a human’s body. So I’m getting surgery to change species.” She beamed with pleasure. “I’m saving up for my whisker implants.”

  “What’s next after the whiskers? Are you going to get a tail?” Ross asked.