In Deep Shitake (A Humorous Romantic Suspense) (21 page)

BOOK: In Deep Shitake (A Humorous Romantic Suspense)
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“Where is he?” The officer flashed his hand-held torch around the darkness.

 Ross held a hand up to his eyes to prevent being blinded.

“He’s still in the duct.”

“Oh yeah? I’ve got another idea.”

The officer pulled at an object connected to a belt loop at the side of his waist. Ross hoped the object wasn’t a gun. Surely, the officer wouldn’t shoot at the cat. But Ross half expected it. He’d heard that things were a bit like the Wild West in the American South. Instead, as the officer brandished it forward, Ross realized the object was a nightstick.

“Officer, I don’t think—”

Before Ross could complete his sentence, Officer Dan wielded the weapon. Bang, bang, bang. He pounded the stick against the backside of the metal duct.

As a result, Talley bolted from the duct, running full speed toward Ross. Ross only had enough time to absorb a brief impression of wild green eyes and a tirade of cat-speak, before an angry Talley ran over the top of his head and then attached himself via some tremendously long, and extremely sharp, claws to Ross’s back.

“Son of a—”

Officer Dan laughed gleefully. “Hey. See there? That got him out of his little hidey-hole.”

“Yes, it certainly did,”
Ross
said between clenched teeth as he crept back out of the crawlspace with his passenger still firmly fused to him. Ross immediately felt his sinuses clog. Then Ross sneezed violently.

When he freed himself from under the house, Mo grabbed the cat and tried to pry him off of Ross’s shirt. He flinched as Mo pulled and Talley refused to be removed.

“Talley. Let go, baby.” She tugged more forcefully.

“Be careful, those claws have some of my skin attached,” Ross said through the congestion of his allergic reaction.

“Sorry. He doesn’t seem to want to part with you right now.”

Ross straightened, causing the cat to climb his body and settle in a curl on the backside of his shoulder like a live hump. A hump attached with nails, biting through the fabric and making a pincushion of his skin.

“Call me Quasimodo,” Ross joked. Somehow it didn’t seem manly to cry about the puncture marks on his back.

There was one benefit of this particular lump as Mo hugged him from behind. Ross felt a fierce tug of pleasure. Of course, she was mainly hugging the cat, as she mumbled loving baby talk to the beast. But Ross felt her arms enfolding him too, so he felt good. He wanted to relax into her embrace and enjoy this moment of peace.

Officer Dan shoved a piece of paper and a pen at Ross. “How about an autograph, Mr. Dagger.
For my wife this time.
Could you make it out to Dora, the most beautiful woman in the world? Oh, do you have one of those posters you could sign instead?”

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

Kubikov
leaned back in the chair with his feet resting on the desktop. Alone in the office, he finally had the chance to read through the monthly profit and loss statement prepared by his accountant. This version wouldn't be shown to the IRS in an audit.

His black brows converged in a frown. Not enough profit. Never enough profit.

The pounding music from the next room matched the rhythm in his temple and he found himself absently massaging the spot.

The cell phone in his pocket rang.
Kubikov
pulled it out and glanced at the face: Betsy. Grumbling, he tossed it onto the desk unanswered.
Kubikov
didn’t need to talk to her right now.

The office landline phone rang. Seizing the receiver he answered. “Da.”

“Boss,” Ivan said. “I do as you tell me.”

The cell phone beeped, drawing his attention. “Hold on,” he said to his brother as he examined the face of the phone and found a text:
When are you coming home? I’m not going to be stuck with a crying baby all night by myself. I practically gave up my career for you and this kid. I’m coming to the club to perform my act tonight.

“Career?”
Kubikov
made a sound between a chuckle and a huff. Stripping wasn't something the mother of his child was going to do ever again.

A knock sounded on the office door. “Come,” he called. The door burst open. Its knob hit the wall before bouncing back on the three men entering. One man held it open for the others to come through. Two stupid morons— he couldn't remember their names—and the alligator food between them.

“Boss,” Moron One said after closing the door behind them.

Kubikov
held up a hand. “Shut up. I’m on phone.”

“...And that what happened,” Ivan finished, his voice coming across the cell phone. Then he fell silent.

Kubikov
clenched his teeth. “Repeat what you said. I did not hear.” He glared at the threesome standing on the other side of his desk.

“I go to the home of Dagger's girlfriend. But I find nothing. And that what happened.”

“But you got the man, right?" Without waiting to hear Ivan's response, he continued. "Bring Dagger here and I question him.”
Kubikov
slammed down the receiver. He jumped to his feet, stomped to the alligator food and then examined him up and down. The guy—Bruno—appeared healthy except for the Band-Aids on his chest.

Kubikov
withdrew the
Glock
from the waistband of his suit
pants.“What
are you doing here alive?” he waved the gun at his employees. "He supposed to be in some gator stomach by now.”

“The alligators wouldn’t eat him. They just nicked him with their teeth,” Moron Number Two said, pointing to the Band-Aids on Bruno’s chest.

“I told you. Get chicken. Tie around neck.”

Moron Number One nodded. “We did. We got the best chicken in town. That special Cajun style fried from that place on Bull Street.”

Kubikov
stared at them, mouth agape. “I meant raw chicken,
gloopee
.”

“But the alligator liked the chicken, he ate it.”

“Shut up. Why do you argue with me, stupid?”
Kubikov
tore at his hair in frustration.

The two men nodded and hung their heads.

The landline phone rang again and
Kubikov
snatched the receiver up. “Da.”

“Boss.” Ivan again. “I need tell you. I not have guy.”

“What?”
Kubikov
didn’t think he could’ve heard right.

 “I think you should just pay the blackmail,” Ivan continued.

“Don’t think anything,”
Kubikov
said. “Just do as I say.” He hung up and threw the phone on the desk.

My Way
played as the cell phone wiggled.
Kubikov
could see the ID: Betsy again. He grabbed it and snapped it open. “Leave me alone, woman! I’m working.” He tossed the closed phone onto the desk again.

Kubikov
turned back to the three morons in the room. “I not have time for you now. Get out!”

“Am I still on the payroll?” Bruno asked.

Kubikov
rolled his eyes. “
Nyet
.” He pulled the
Glock
, pointing it at Bruno. He squeezed the trigger. A round ripped through the flesh on Bruno’s arm. He screamed, clutching the wound.

“Now try the gators.”

The two morons stood gaping at him.

“Get the gator food out of here before I shoot all of you.”

The morons finally came to their senses and grabbed Bruno. They dragged him toward the door that led into the building’s lobby.

“Not that door. That one,” he said, pointing to the back door to the outside. “You don’t want someone to see, do you?”

They shook their heads and changed directions.


Gloopees
,” he muttered.

Kubikov
turned his back on them and phoned Ivan from the landline.  His brother answered on the first ring.

“Tell me I didn’t hear you right,"
Kubikov
demanded. "You say you still don’t have Dagger and you can’t bring him to me?”

There was a gulp on the other end. “No, sir.”

He thumped the landline receiver on the desk, before putting the receiver to his mouth again. “Get me Stephen Dagger and his girlfriend,” he shouted into the mouthpiece.
Kubikov
thumped the receiver on the desk again until the hard plastic cracked and then crumbled, falling into pieces across the desk’s surface. The room finally fell silent.
Kubikov
wiped at the sweat on his brow and walked around the desk before collapsing into the chair.

He breathed in and out, attempting to concentrate on the rhythm as he’d learned in his Buddhist meditation group. The notes of
My Way
began to play.
Kubikov
raised the
Glock
, squeezed the trigger, and blew the cell phone off the desk.

 

* * * * *

 

Mo and Ross were in his car heading away from her house when Mo's cell phone rang. She glanced at the face.

"I can't believe it," she exclaimed, glancing at Ross. "It's Clarence."

Ross, at the steering wheel, turned a corner. "Find out who the bloody hell he gave your address to."

She nodded and answered the call. "I don't even know what to ask you first," she said.

“Everything is definitely not virtuoso,” Clarence answered.

“Really?” she asked. “I hadn’t noticed, except that somebody broke into my house and trashed it. I have a feeling you know who it was."

“No money was dropped off?”

“Are you completely insane?” she yelled. “Someone broke into my house. Why would they leave me money?”

Clarence fell silent.

“Come on,” she said. "Tell me what’s going on."

Ross pulled his Mercedes to a stop before backing into a parallel parking place in front of his hotel. He switched off the engine and looked at Mo questioningly.

The police had allowed them to re-enter the house once the official work was finished. After the locksmith had declared the front door secure, Mo tried to reach Leo on his cell phone. He didn’t answer so she left a message about the break-in. After showering, Mo slipped on some clothes that hadn’t been disturbed by the breakers. She offered Ross the use of her shower along with a pair of her brother’s jeans, a shirt and a jacket.

Finally, with no sign of Leo, Mo had not felt safe alone so she and Talley had taken Ross up on his offer to spend the night in his hotel suite. He would sleep on the sofa, he’d assured her. What a gentleman. Where was a lecher when you really wanted one?

“I tried to call you and tell you not to go back to your house,” Clarence said.

“Yeah. Thanks for nothing, bagel-head.” Mo rolled her eyes. “I’m putting you on speaker so Ross can hear this.” Mo pressed the button on her phone so Clarence’s voice would fill the car.

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