In Deep Shitake (A Humorous Romantic Suspense) (31 page)

As Mo stormed toward the rattletrap, Milton flinched and then disappeared in the direction of the car floorboards before re-emerging with a newspaper opened in front of his face. Milton bobbed up, peeking over the top of the newspaper, and then sank back down again. The newspaper took on a slight tremble.

Approaching from the driver’s side, Mo hammered a fist on the window. Milton turned toward her, the newspaper an opaque veil over his face.

“Hey.” She continued pounding on the window.

The trembling of the paper increased. Milton turned away to face the passenger side, keeping his back to Mo.

“I can still see you.”

Milton turned back toward her in his seat with a lame waive and a stilted smile. He rolled down the window slowly. “Oh, hi. I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah sure.” Mo stood, arms crossed over her chest, glowering at him.

“Fine. I admit it. I did see you,” he said with a sheepish grimace. He opened the car door and Mo stepped back to let him climb out. As he straightened, he thrust a recorder in her face. “Care to comment on what you are doing at this sleazy motel with Ross Grant?” His voice had a
weasely
nasal quality as he made the demand.

“That’s none of your business. Just what the jalapeño pepper are you doing here?”

“There are people who will pay good money for some dirt on Ross Grant. Even if he is a ‘has-been’ actor, he’s still famous.”

Mo silently restrained herself from throttling him. He apparently read her lack of response as encouragement because he continued. “You should do yourself a favor. We could make a nice tidy sum of money together. The National Star will pay you for the inside story of your illicit motel tryst. It’s particularly saleable since it looks like you were able to, shall we say, steal Mr. Grant’s affections from his fiancé on the eve of their fabulously expensive Hollywood wedding.”

“Why you little—” Mo stepped forward and the nerd cowered away, bumping into his car.

“Be careful, Mo. I make a good friend but a bad enemy.”

“That road goes both ways, little man, so you’d better think twice before you mess with me. How did you find us here, anyway?”

A hearty laugh burst from Milton. “Now you know I can’t tell you
that.
I always protect my sources.” Milton pushed the recorder into her face again. “Come on, Mo, give me a good quote. Has the love investigator thoroughly investigated the heartthrob?”

“You sleazy little—,” Mo stepped toward him and Milton scuttled back behind the steering wheel of the car and then pulled the door shut behind him. He hurriedly twisted the key. The car started with a grinding sound and the engine whined.

He cleared his throat and pushed the heavy glasses up his nose before speaking. “You act as if this is my fault. My morals aren’t in question here. Mr. Grant is a cheater. Like it or not, that’s news.”

“I’ll give you a quote if you want a quote.” Mo choked on the blackish smoke coming from the car exhaust before she could continue. “Ross Grant is a courageous, wonderful man. He’s not cheating on Heather Davies because he isn’t engaged to Heather Davies.”

“How do you know, Mo? How do you really know for sure?”

“I know because he told me. He wouldn’t have made love with me last night if he
was
engaged. He has complete moral integrity. You’d understand that if you didn’t suffer from a complete lack of integrity and have morals that couldn’t stand upright under a toadstool.”

Milton shot her a sly smile and put the car in gear.

“Thanks, Mo.”

Tires that were probably already bald became balder as the car screeched into reverse. The grinding of the car gears had Mo wincing. The car sped forward through the parking lot. It careened into a right turn, sped along the street, and then disappeared from sight.

Fudge. What had he been thanking her for? What had she said?

Chapter Fourteen

Disconcerted, Mo took refuge in the motel room. Talley ran to her from the corner to greet her with an angry yowl. He rubbed against her leg in one direction then another. He was hungry for attention or just plain hungry.

“I’ll get you more breakfast in a minute, baby.” Thank heavens she’d thought to get a couple cans of tuna from the gas station.

Mo strode into the bathroom and Talley slipped in with her before she closed the door. Her hand shook as she pulled the cell phone from the pocket of her jeans. She flipped it open and then punched in the numbers of the agency. She heard seven rings before an answer came.

“Incredible Love,” Harry greeted in a sour tone.

“It’s Mo.”

“Where are you? When are you coming to work? You’re late. Clarence is still MIA. I’m manning this place alone and I don’t like it.”

“What about Gary?” Mo asked with surging irritation. The agency’s other investigator could pick up a little slack when she needed some time away from the office. She’d done the same for him in the past.

“He’s not here yet. But then I expect him to be late. You’re the reliable one.”

Oh pistachios. “I’m still working on that Ross Grant thing.” Mo cracked
open
the bathroom door to peek out. Ross would be here any minute, wondering why she hadn’t appeared in the parking lot with Talley. Relief hit her when she saw the room was empty. Good.
No Ross yet.

“Do you know anything about a sleazy reporter by the name of Stewart Milton?” Mo asked, closing the bathroom door and then leaning back against it.

“Oh no. I mean yes,” Harry said. “I investigated him yesterday when you said he was hounding you. There’s nothing remarkable in his personal life. He’s married but has no children. I hear he’s a sadistic shark. He loves to make people bleed and then feast on their carcasses. Don’t make him mad.”

Mo wanted to say, “Thanks for the advice but you're too late.” She didn’t. No use in lamenting about the past. Mo had to find a way to deal with Milton in the future.

“Who is he? What are his weaknesses? Does he have any
bad
habits I could exploit?”

“Why are you asking?” Harry replied. “I don’t like the sound of this. I know you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Mo said, peeking out the door again into the still empty room.

“You’ll try to cajole, intimidate, and downright attack anybody who’s trying to hurt someone you love. But don’t do it here.”

“Well, I may have to.”

“Don’t attack Stewart Milton,” Harry interrupted. “Don’t even threaten him. He has the power of the press.”

Mo fell silent.

“Seriously. You could get hurt.”

Mo maintained her silence.

“It’s not only you at stake here, Mo. He could really hurt this agency with bad publicity. You stay away from Stewart Milton,” Harry said.

The silence continued for a few seconds before Harry spoke again.

“And if you can’t stay away from Milton then just give him what he wants. From what I know of him, it’ll hurt a lot less.”

“What if I can’t do that? What if I can’t give him what he wants?” Mo asked.

The line went silent for a few moments before Harry responded. “I’ll have to fire you,” her boss said with a heavy sigh. “I rely on this business for my sole support. I can’t have it damaged.”

Mo choked back the sudden bust of pain
Harry’s
words caused her. She’d known, but didn’t want to believe, what choice Harry would make between business and friendship. The truth hurt when it slapped her in the face.

“I’ll keep that in mind, boss.” She tried to say it lightly, even though her chest felt heavy.

“So, you’re working the Ross Grant thing. Any luck finding Clarence?”

“Nope.” Mo started at hearing a knock on the door. “But I do know Clarence was using the name Stephen Dagger for some blackmail scheme on a Russian named
Kubikov
.”

“
Omigod
. And now they think Ross is Dagger.”

“Yeah.”

“What a mess.”

“Double yeah.”

“Are you in there, Mo?” Ross’s muffled voice came through the particleboard.

Mo covered the phone’s mouthpiece. “I’ll be right out,” she called and then uncovered the mouthpiece. “I won’t be in the office today. I need to follow up on some leads.”

“What did you say?” Ross’s muffled voice asked.

Covering the mouthpiece, Mo answered. “Nothing. I’m just talking to Talley.”

Talley jumped up and placed his front paws on her knees.

"
Yowwwwwwrrrrrr
."

“In a minute, baby,” she said as she stroked his head and missed half of what Harry was saying in her ear.

“— Jessica Nelson says. So I need you to report there tonight at eight p.m.”

“What?” Where was she supposed to be? And what assignment did Harry want her to go to?

“We need to check out right now or else we owe for another night.” Ross’s barely audible voice overlapped
Harry’s
.

“Jessica Nelson,” Harry said in her ear. “The wife of the cross-dresser? She says— Oh honey, the other line is ringing. I’ll call you back.”

A beep in her ear signaled the end of the call. Mo hadn’t had a chance to tell Harry that Jessica Nelson’s husband was involved with
Kubikov
.

A movement in the mirror over the basin caught Mo's attention. She barely recognized the ghostly looking girl she saw in the reflection. Unfortunately, she couldn’t totally blame the unflattering fluorescent lights. The recent events were weighing heavily on her. Thoughts of Ross, Milton, Harry, Clarence, Heather,
Kubikov
and
Gigantor
swirled around in her head. What was she going to do about them? She only knew for certain that Ross had somehow infiltrated the barriers around her heart and she couldn’t lose him.

This was one of those times when the cosmos seemed arranged as a test of Mo’s sanity and on the grade scale—A+ being perfectly calm normalcy and F being slobbering psychosis—Mo suspected she hovered in the D+ area at the moment. But given that her heart and her career teetered on the edge of a precipice, maybe insanity was the sanest possible reaction.

Mo plastered a smile on her face. It didn’t help improve her appearance much. Ross would surely know something was wrong. She opened a button and then another on her blouse. If she unbuttoned a third, her bra would be visible. Mo reached in to adjust each breast up in the cups of the lacy black fabric. She pulled each side of the collar so that her boobs practically popped out. With any luck Ross would never even look at her face.

She opened the door. “I’m ready,” she said.

This time the parking lot was free of rodents. No sign of Milton, the rat. As they walked toward his car, with Ross’s hand at the base of her spine, Mo’s eyes darted around. She needed to tell Ross about seeing the reporter earlier. She didn’t want the rat appearing in order to put his own spin on things before she had the chance... No, that wasn’t right. She knew she’d had plenty of chances to talk to Ross. She'd just found it difficult to work up the nerve.

“Oh bollocks.” Ross abruptly halted.

“What?”

“It’s that ridiculous couple. Come on. We’ve got to get to my car before they see us.”