In Deep Shitake (A Humorous Romantic Suspense) (16 page)

“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.

“Goodness no,” Susie said. “Why would I get a tail? That would be weird.” Susie eyed Ross as if she thought he was a pervert. “Besides, if I got a tail, my clothes wouldn’t fit right.”

 “Maybe I should go with make-up and a wig,” Mo suggested. “I could go as … Shitake.”

“I don’t think we have vegetable costumes,” Susie said. “Or are mushrooms a legume?”

“They’re fungi actually,” Ross pointed out.

“There aren't any mushrooms in the movies.
At least not that I know of.
So we don’t have a shitake costume. Anyway a mushroom costume wouldn’t have a wig. So I don’t understand.”

“Ross.” Mo grabbed him by the arm and turned him toward the weaponry booth. “Heather and Clarence are gone.”

“Shitake,” Ross said.

“You both want mushroom costumes? I’m lost.” Susie glanced between them with a quizzical expression.

“Join the queue.” Ross sighed.

Chapter Eight

Mo snapped her cell phone shut. “Leo said he would call when he spots either Clarence or Heather on the security monitors. They’ve only disappeared for now.”

“I suppose we’ll have to wander around until he calls or until we find them ourselves. Although, I feel bloody foolish in this gear,” Ross groused.

“I think you look very dashing.” Mo smiled, sending excitement racing through him.

Ross had always wanted to perform the
Phantom of the Opera’s
lead male
role, but he’d imagined it would be on the Broadway stage or in a London theater, not in a daft convention of geeks and freaks. He’d been about to opt for no costume at all, when Mo had spotted the Phantom mask in the costume rental booth and gone into raptures about how she had loved the musical. But Ross wasn’t about to admit that perhaps his costume selection had resulted from Mo’s admiration for the Phantom. Oh no, he kept telling himself, her opinion had nothing to do with it.

“I only wish there’d been a matching outfit for me,” Mo said.

 “You wanted to be the Phantom, too?”

“No, funny man.” Mo slapped his arm.

Her playful gesture sent sparks up his arm as if he’d touched an electrical socket.

“You know what I mean. It’s too bad they didn’t have a Christine, the female character from Phantom.”

His lips quirked into a smile.
She wasn’t dressed as Christine, but Mo looked terribly cute in her costume.

“What are you smirking at?” Mo asked with narrowing eyes.

“Your clown costume. It’s rather…interesting.”

“I’m not a clown,” she protested, placing hands on hips. “I’m dressed as a martial arts warrior. I am what
is
known as a geisha-ninja. You must have seen those movies. These characters were all the rage a few years ago.”

“No, actually I’ve never seen a geisha-ninja movie. I still say you’re dressed like a clown. Perhaps the whiteface make-up and black wig fooled me.” His gaze traveled down the length of her body. “Not to mention the pajamas.”

“I’m not a clown and these aren’t pajamas!”

“Okay, perhaps you look like a French mime.”

“I am not a clown or a French mime,” she shouted.

He could see she
bristled
. She was annoyed...but so cute. He wondered if she would be downright beautiful when angry.

“You’re definitely not a mime,” he goaded. “Mimes are silent and Lord knows you could never be silent.”

“I’m going to ignore that insult since you are obviously jealous that my costume is a
nunchuck
wielding superhero and your character has no weapons.” She gave a haughty sniff. “You probably miss your big gun.”

“Are you supposed to be a male or female? Is it geisha-ninja or ninja-geisha?” Ross teased.

“I’m sure this character is a female
nunchuck
wielding ninja-geisha.”

“It’s certainly no
Wonder Woman
costume,” Ross commented.

Imagining Mo in the bustier and short shorts caused another zing to pass through Ross. Good thing she hadn’t chosen that one. He didn’t think he could have handled Mo as Wonder Woman in the luscious flesh.

“I don’t know why I’ve never seen those Ninja movies. They sound Oscar worthy,” Ross said in a rush, hoping she hadn’t noticed his ‘state’ of arousal. At least these capes were good for something, he thought as he did his best to pull the corner of the cape to hide the part of him he didn’t want her to notice.

“All that matters is Clarence not recognizing me right now,” Mo muttered.

“I don’t think even your brother would recognize you.” Ross sighed in relief. She hadn’t noticed a thing.

* * * * *

Half an hour later, Ross and Mo were still strolling through the convention hall, looking for a trace of Clarence or Heather, without success. Mo caught sight of herself in the mirror mounted near a booth advertising photographs.

No way did she want a photograph to remember herself in this outfit. Choosing this costume had been a horrible mistake. What had she been thinking? If she’d tried to make herself as unattractive as possible, she couldn’t have done a better job. Just because she didn’t want a romance with Mr. Wonderful Ross Grant didn’t mean she wanted him to think she was ugly—or a hermaphrodite. Oh well, she would try not to think about Ross’s opinions.

The Love Boat theme trilled. Mo flipped the phone open to hold it against her ear.

“Nice costume, Mo. But I think that character is
Tiki
.” Leo said.

Apparently, her brother
did
recognize her in this outfit.

“Yeah. What about it?” Mo demanded.

“It’s
kinda
butch since
Tiki
is a
male
ninja-geisha.”

Leave it to Leo to hone in on her sore spot to scrape the scab off.

“Great. Thanks for the observation. Did you call to insult me or have you got something to report?”

Leo laughed heartily. “I saw Heather Davies go into the women’s rest room outside the main convention hall. Wow. She’s got a really gorgeous body. Is she really
that
beautiful in person?”

Another scab rubbed raw. Mo chose not to rise to his bait. “Yes, she is. What about Clarence?”

“Oh yeah. He went into the men’s rest room opposite the women’s.”

“Thanks. Later, bro.”

As they hastily walked toward the main hall entrance, Ross and Mo decided to split up. It seemed natural for Ross to follow Clarence into “the
loo
”, as he called it, for the surveillance of Clarence and for Mo to follow Heather.

Once inside, Mo passed two teenage girls dressed as streetwalkers—wonder which movie those outfits were from—giggling and primping in front of the mirror. There was no sign of Heather Davies.

Mo bent to scan under the stall doors. A pair of feet clad in fashionable strappy sandals, were visible in the first stall. Hopefully, the feet belonged to Heather.

The girls abruptly stopped giggling and eyed Mo’s reflection suspiciously. A little brunette, in her thigh-high boots, leather mini-skirt, and blue tube top, straightened away from the mirror and then turned toward Mo. She whispered to the blonde who was dressed in four-inch red stiletto heels, hip hugging leatherette
capris
and a belly shirt. The blonde whispered back and then the two adopted a wide track around Mo as they made a hasty exit.