In Deep Shitake (A Humorous Romantic Suspense)

by Patricia Mason

  “But I don’t usually count that time since I wasn’t awake through the entire movie,” Clarence said.

  “Really,” Ross drawled. He offered the seat to a grinning Clarence with a wave of his hand. The younger man plopped down.

  The “interrogation team”, comprised of Ross, Mo, Leo and Miss Kitty, surrounded Clarence.

  “Okay, Clarence. Spill it.” Mo demanded. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t believe it’s you, Mr. Dagger,” Clarence said, ignoring Mo. His eyes gleamed with excited adoration as he gazed up at Ross.

  “Grant. It’s Ross Grant,” Ross said firmly.

  “Oh yeah.” Clarence grinned. “I’m the president of your fan club. It’s called the Acolytes of Stephen Dagger.”

  “It would be,” Mo said with sarcastic venom.

  Leo’s sputtered chuckle drew Mo’s attention. He bent toward Miss Kitty and whispered in her ear. Susie looked up at him flirtatiously and laughed.

  Oh pickles. The two of them were sharing a “Clarence” joke.

  “Acolyte?” Ross asked.

  “Yeah, you know a follower, devotee,” Clarence replied.

  “You know, Ross. Like the follower of a cult leader,” Mo said.

  “I know what acolyte means,” Ross said with a frown. “You do know that Stephen Dagger is a character in a movie, don’t you? He isn’t real." Ross directed the comment to Clarence.

  “Yes, but Stephen Dagger is worthy of worship. I’ve always felt that SpyMatrix is like the bible. All the secrets of the world can be learned from SpyMatrix if you know how to listen.”

  More snickering and shared looks passed between Leo and Miss Kitty.

  Mo couldn’t stand it. She had to know about her brother and the catwoman. Mo pulled Leo away from the girl with the ears and took him into the parlor.

  “What’s with you and her?” Mo whispered furiously.

  “She helped me locate Clarence at the convention,” Leo whispered back. “So I could follow him.”

  “You’re not dating her, are you?” Mo asked.

  “Not yet,” Leo answered. “But she has got a rockin' bod and I would like to know if she has a tail to go along with those ears.”

  “She doesn’t.”

  “How do you know?” He asked with an arch to one eyebrow and a salacious smirk.

  “Wipe that look off your face. She told Ross and me yesterday. Besides a tail would just be weird.”

  Leo laughed. “As opposed to the ears?”

  “Just do me a favor and don’t date her. Talley doesn’t need a sister and I definitely wouldn’t want to deal with her litter box.”

  “Don’t worry, sis. She’s a nice girl. She’s only done a couple of fetish films. Nothing hardcore. In one she crawled around with a little collar and—”

  “Oh my gouda. I don’t want to know,” Mo interrupted, clamping her hand over his mouth.

  Leo laughed again and the two of them returned to Clarence, who was still gushing about his idol worship.

  “You wouldn’t believe how big the Acolytes have become. They can’t wait for the sequel. It’s all the talk on the loops.”

  “I’m not doing a sequel.”

  “You’ve got to. The Acolytes will be so disappointed.”

  “Hey, cottage cheese head,” Mo said. “We don’t want to know about the fan club. We want to know why you called the other night and told me Harry had assigned me to break into Ross Grant’s car.”

  His expression became blank. Then a frown emerged. Good the little bagel was finally realizing this was serious.

  “I don’t understand. I didn’t tell you to break into anyone’s car. Why would I do that?” His tone was so earnest and his gaze so sincere that Mo would have sworn he was telling the truth except that she knew for a fact that he was so totally lying.

  “And I would never tell anyone to break into your car.” The lying bagel turned his fake sincerity like a laser beam in Ross’s direction. “I would never do such a thing, Mr. Dagger.”

  “Grant,” Ross said with a distracted tone. He didn’t seem focused on Clarence, but on his own thoughts.

  “The call you got must’ve been from someone else,” Clarence said with an exaggeratedly wide-eyed innocence.

  “You.” She glanced at Ross who met her gaze with a question in his eyes. “I spoke to you, Clarence. I know it was you.”

  The little bagel’s eyes widened even further. “Are you sure you got a call at all, Ms. Tuttle?” Clarence glanced up at Ross, then back at Mo. Then Clarence winked.

  “Did you just wink at me?”

  “Why would I do that, Ms. Tuttle?”

  More suspicions seemed to be swirling in Ross as he stood there silently. She had to do something.

  “But you were using the Stephen Dagger name at the convention,” Ross said.

  “Sure,” Clarence said. “I love pretending to be Dagger and being in costume at the convention was encouraged.”

  “Hmm,” Ross said.

  “If you don’t have anything to do with this then what were you doing at the convention with Heather Davies?” Aha. Mo had him there.

  “I’m president of her fan club too,” Clarence replied easily. “We’re working on a write-in campaign to the studio for her to be cast as Francesca in the SpyMatrix sequel. She’s perfect for the role.”

  The creep had an innocent explanation for everything.

  “It was Heather Davies, wasn’t it?” Mo said. “She’s behind the car break-in assignment, right?”

  “Of course not.” Clarence shook his head.

  Ross stared at a point in the distance as if deep in thought.

  Clarence nodded.

  “You nodded,” Mo said seizing on the gesture. “It was Heather Davies.”

  Ross’s head jerked around and he focused his attention on the receptionist.

  “I didn’t,” Clarence said directly to Ross.

  Ross glanced to Miss Kitty.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I was looking at Leo,” she admitted sheepishly.

  “I was distracted too. Sorry, sis,” Leo said, glancing from her to Miss Kitty.

  “Oh for the love of cheese, he nodded,” Mo said with exasperation.

  “I did not,” Clarence said nodding again.

  “There he goes again,” Mo cried. Did you see it this time?”

  Ross scowled and shook his head. Leo shrugged and Miss Kitty’s mouth curled in a negative indication.

  “What about the break-in here? Why did you give someone the address to my house? Ross heard you on the telephone.”

  “Oh that,” Clarence said with a laugh. “I’m sorry. That was the guy you went out with last week. The blind date.”

  Mo didn’t remember any blind date.

  “He wanted your address so that he could send you flowers. He said the two of you had a little misunderstanding and he wanted to make it up to you. He said he wanted another date even if you were kind of a ball break—well, you know.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense.” But from the expression on Ross’s face it was making sense to him. "You told us not to go to Ross’s hotel," Mo said. She had to have him there. Ross had heard that.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Clarence replied. "That must've been somebody pretending to be me.

  “Oh, you are so fired Clarence.”

  “But, Miss Tuttle, what for?” Clarence asked with total innocence in his tone.

  “For lying. I didn’t go on any blind date last week. I haven’t been on a date in six months that I didn’t get paid to go on.” That didn’t sound so good even to Mo’s ears.

  “I mean—” Before she could explain that she’d only been on work related dates, the front doorbell rang.

  Frosted flakes. “I’ll get it,” Mo said, heading away. What was at the door had to be better than what was in this room.

  Thoughts of what she could say to turn this thing around swirled through her head as she traveled the short distance. There ha
d to be some way to force Clarence to tell the truth. She had to have some way to wipe the suspicion from Ross’s mind.

  Mo looked out one of the glass side panels before she opened the door. “Creamed shitake on toast!”

  Milton stood outside with a snide smirk curling his lip as he held a sheaf of papers, tapping them against the open palm of this other hand.

  What did he want? Nothing good, that was for sure.

  “Who is it, Mo?” Ross said from behind her.

  Mo turned, startled.

  “Ummm.” Her cheeks felt so hot she knew they must’ve turned a bright scarlet. She had a split second to wonder how it was that she could feel— and no doubt look—so guilty when she was innocent while Clarence looked so innocent when he was definitely guilty.

  Ross moved toward the side window. “Let’s see, shall we?”

  Mo stepped in front of him.

  His eyes narrowed on her. Ross reached around to grasp the doorknob.

  “You definitely don’t want to open the door," Mo said.

  “I think I do.”

  “Oh all right.” Mo moved away and Ross opened the door.

  Unfortunately, Milton hadn’t disappeared. When he saw Ross, his lips formed a grin.

  “What a pleasure to see you,” Milton said.

  “It isn’t mutual,” Ross replied.

  Milton laughed. “May I come in?”

  “No,” Mo said, drawing the reporter’s attention.

  “Oh, Mo, there you are. My favorite actor and my favorite source in one place.” The reporter barged forward, pushing past Ross and Mo. He entered the parlor and looked around as Leo, Clarence, and Miss Kitty looked on in confused silence.

  “I wanna tell you I’m having one great day,” Milton gloated.

  “I’m glad somebody is,” Mo muttered as she followed after him. “What do you want?”

  “I wanted to come by and personally give you a preview of an article scheduled to appear in the National Star. You should be the first to see it in print. After all you were such a help." Milton held out the sheaf of paper—obviously a print-off from a computerized version. “It’s a bonus that you’re here too, Ross.”

  The headline grabbed her by the throat: “Ross Grant Caught in Romantic Tryst With Savannah PI.” It was written in all capital letters. In smaller print below: “The wedding is off,’ says his tearful fiancée.” A photo of Ross bending toward Mo, their lips lightly touching in a kiss, occupied a fourth of the page. It would have been a sweet picture of new love, if it hadn’t been obvious that they were caught coming out of a sleazy motel.

  Milton turned to a page with more incriminatingly intimate photos. Mo tried to read the contents of the article.

  “Oh I’m sorry, Mo,” Milton said, shoving the mock up paper toward her. “Take it.” He thrust it into her hands. “Your quote is in the fourth paragraph.”

  Scanning quickly, Mo spotted it. “He wouldn’t have made love with me last night if he didn’t suffer from a complete lack of integrity and have morals that couldn’t stand upright under a toadstool,’ said Imogene Tuttle, a PI with Incredible Love Investigations, when asked about Mr. Grant’s engagement.”

  Mo scanned further and continued reading. “According to sources Grant’s fiancée, the beautiful model Heather Davies, is devastated by his behavior and has called off the wedding which was to take place next month. ‘She’s humiliated’ a friend is quoted as saying. Miss Davies could not be reached for comment.”

  Ross tore the paper away from her and stared down at it intently. His eyes narrowed and a flush of anger began to creep up his neck and to his cheeks.

  “You’re married, aren’t you?” Mo asked Milton.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Do you want to stay married?”

  “Yes. Why do you want to know?” he asked suspiciously.

  “No reason, just curious. Just more evidence for my theory that any man, no matter how worm-like, can convince some stupid woman to marry him.”

  “Insulting me isn’t going to help your lover.” Milton puffed himself up to full Milton height, and adjusted his heavy glasses.

  By now Ross had turned beet-red.

  Milton watched him for a moment. The corners of his mouth turned upward in a satisfied, smiling triumph.

  “Well, ta-ta,” the reporter said with a wave and walked back toward the front door. He opened it. “Oh.” He glanced back. “Don’t forget to call me if you have any more scoops for me, Mo.” With that, he exited.

  Through the cacophony of questions from Leo, Miss Kitty and Clarence, Mo took a silent Ross by the arm. She dragged him into the kitchen, pushed him in front of her, and closed the door behind her.

  Her knees shook. Mo didn’t know how much longer she could stand upright so she moved to the refrigerator near the entrance. It seemed like the most stable item in the kitchen to lean on.

  Ross paced in silence, first toward the sink and then back toward the door. At the cabinets again, he pivoted, and strode back to her. He grabbed Mo by the shoulders and gave her a shake. “How could you do it?” he asked.

  Was that misery twisting his features? A part of Mo whispered to her that she could still reach him if he cared that much.

  “How much money did he pay you? You should have opened it up for bid. I would have paid a lot more to protect my film.” He shouted the words into her face as he clutched Mo’s arms.

  The small sting of his fingers reminded Mo of when he’d clutched her to him with passion instead of anger. “Get your hands off me,” she yelled. He wasn’t hurting her, not physically anyway, but she couldn’t bear his touch right now.

  Ross seemed startled. He looked at the spot where his right hand gripped her arm, then at his left. He released her. Clenching his fists at his sides, Ross stepped back until he was standing against the counter, as far from Mo as he could get in the small kitchen. Although he had physically released her, his angry eyes continued their penetrating gaze.

  ”Maybe it wasn’t money. Maybe you’re one of those women who get off on gutting a man. Is that it?” He growled the question out quietly, as if he had to struggle not to shout.

  “It fits with what Clarence said. All this drama.” He waved his arms in an expanse. “The car break-in, the so-called conspiracy that we had to investigate, the ransacking of your house. You certainly swept me up in all of it. And it could’ve been you that got me involved with that Kubikov chap. Was it all some elaborate scheme to get into my life so that you could trash it?”

  “No,” Mo choked out. No witty comeback came to mind for once. No protective one-liner to hide her emotions.

  “What was it? Earn a little money and stick it to the guy at the same time? It all makes a bizarre kind of sense.”

  “No,” Mo screamed the single word to force him to listen. His words hit her more strongly than any punch could have. She almost doubled over with the force of it.

  The swinging door burst inward, slamming against the wall, as Leo barreled in. “Get away from my sister.”

  Leo eyed her position, half-crouched near the refrigerator, before he charged toward Ross. Leo grabbed Ross by the throat and pushed him forcefully against the counter and cabinets. He lifted his other hand in a fist, ready to strike.

  “Did you hit her, you scumbag?”

  “No. Leo. No,” Mo hurried to say as she stepped toward Leo. She plucked at the back of his shirt. “We were just arguing. It was verbal.”

  “Are you sure, sis?” Leo didn’t move his eyes—or his fist—away.

  Ross glowered at Leo. “Of course I didn’t strike your sister. Let go of me, boy, or you won’t be so lucky.”

  “Oh really? I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Celebrity.” Leo eyed Ross with an unwavering challenge.

  Mo had never seen her brother this way before, barely containing a large amount of violence. Where had her little brother gone?

  “You’re not really a super spy, you just played one in the movies.” Leo growled the words at Ross
. “And if you hurt my sister, I’ll make sure you won’t be pretty enough to make another movie for a long time—if ever. You get me?”

  Ross twisted away from Leo and threw him back. “Go ahead and try. I’m so bloody angry right now that I’d love to beat someone to a pulp. It may as well be you.”

  “Oh yeah?” Leo laughed. “You can try.”

  Leo got into Ross’s face and they stood toe-to-toe. Each was in a stance that dared the other to throw the first punch.

  “Knock it off.” Mo touched Leo’s arm. “Just go in the other room, bro. It’s all right.” She pulled Leo toward the door while he continued to glare at Ross over his shoulder. At the doorway, Mo moved around Leo and gave him a push. He stumbled over the threshold into the dining room.

  “I’ll be right here,” Leo said, staring past her at Ross with open threats shooting from his eyes.

  “Thanks, Leo,” Mo said. Her brother, bless him, didn’t move. He stood rigid outside the room with a belligerent expression, fists clenched. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and then closed the door in his face. Mo turned and leaned back against it.

  She inhaled deeply and then breathed out, trying for calm. Ross’s breath was still chugging in angry bursts, his face red.

  “Ross, please.” Mo moved to Ross’s side. “I wasn’t the source for that story. Are you kidding? Why would I do that?” She touched his arm tentatively. “We made love. It was real. I wasn’t pulling some kind of con. How can you believe I would do something like that?”

  ”It’s happened before,” he said as he jerked his arm away from her touch.

  “Well, it didn’t happen this time. I wasn’t the source.”

  “Come on, Mo. You gave him a quote.”

  She knew she had a guilty flush on her cheeks. “Yes, I gave him a quote, but that wasn’t it. He ambushed me in the parking lot this morning. He took some words I said and twisted them around. They were taken completely out of context. I was actually talking about something completely different.”

  “That’s what they all say. It was taken out of context. They misquoted me.” Ross’s face contorted as he mocked her in an exaggeratedly high, whiny voice.

  “They? Who is they?”