In Deep Shitake - Part 17
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Part 17

She was shaking her head before he'd completed the entire sentence. Ross shrugged out of the jacket he wore and handed it to Mo. How sweet. His concern over her warmth touched her heart.

"Here. Put this over your arm to hide the carrier. I don't think they technically allow pets in this hotel."

Her heart rapidly deflated. He wasn't being sweet, just practical.

She accepted the jacket with a grimace. After covering the carrier, Mo walked forward.

A hotel valet opened the door for Mo to enter.

"Thank you," she muttered.

"Mmmmrrrwwww," Talley meowed.

The valet fixed Ross, who had followed her through the open door, with a strange look.

"Sorry," he said, rubbing his midsection. "My stomach always growls like that when I'm hungry."

The s.p.a.cious hotel lobby oozed luxury, with a vaulted atrium ceiling, and a clear gla.s.s enclosed elevator traveling upward. An elevator with one pa.s.senger: Gigantor.

"Ross, look," Mo said, pointing to where Gigantor stood with his back to them.

"Yes, I see him. It seems our friend is involved in this mess with Clarence."

"It could be a coincidence that he's here," Mo said even though she didn't believe it.

"Could be, but it's not."

The elevator came to a stop at the top floor and then Gigantor disappeared, apparently going down the hall.

"Why do you say that?" Mo asked, still grasping for the last straw.

"Because he just got off on the floor for my suite."

The hotel bar included cafe style seating on the periphery of the lobby. From her position at one of the tables, Mo achieved a trifecta. She could: observe Ross who was talking to the desk clerk, monitor the elevator for the return of Gigantor, and enjoy a nice drink. Although Mo didn't drink much, a large gla.s.s of anything alcoholic sounded perfect right about now. Better yet, something to eat. This place must serve some kind of burger.

So far none of the wait staff had visited her table, which was ridiculous since there was only one other customer in the place. A shadowed figure sat in one of the inside booths, but Mo couldn't quite make out his face.

A wraith-like young man, a waiter dressed in a uniform, fiddled with clearing a nearby table. But as far as she could tell, he did nothing but move dishes around on the tabletop. With several piercings in his ears, and a faint green tinge to his hair, he had the look of a goth trying to pa.s.s as conservative for the sake of his job. Mo just wished he'd stop fiddling around with the dirty dishes long enough to take her order.

She caught his eye and motioned to him. He lumbered over.

"Yes, miss?" He asked the question in a sour tone.

"I'd like to order. Do you serve food?"

"Yes, but my shift is almost over."

Mo stared at him.

"Another waiter will be on duty in ten minutes," he grumbled.

She fixed him with a narrow-eyed stare.

"Oh, all right. I'll get you a menu."

"Thanks."

Turning on his heel, he trudged away.

Across the hotel, Ross talked to the desk clerk while making animated gestures. The desk clerk said something and then Ross reacted by waving his arms again. Uh oh, the problem had to be something pretty bad for a British man like him to be behaving that way.

"Here," the waiter said grudgingly. He thrust the menu, a laminated piece of paper, at her. "I'm off duty in eight minutes."

"That's b.l.o.o.d.y brilliant." Ross's shout wafted over to her.

Son of a brisket, what had happened now?

Mo's attention returned to the waiter. The little Pop-Tart stood, tapping his foot at her.

"Seven minutes," the waiter said.

"I'd like to at least glance at the menu before I order," she drawled.

He glared at her and she glared back.

"Oh all right," he said with a pout. "I'll come back." His feet never lifted off the hotel flooring as he shuffled away.

The menu had the usual fare of burgers and sandwiches. In her starved condition, Mo didn't know what to order.

Ross marched to the chair across from hers. He pulled and lifted it back before pounding it down into place. He plopped onto the seat, making an audible huffing sound.

"That sodding desk clerk called the police and they refused to come. They said as far as they could tell, no crime had occurred here yet."

"Do the police know Gigantor a.s.saulted us earlier and probably broke into my house?"

His eyebrow arched with a "Do you think I'm an idiot?" question emanating from him silently.

"Of course you told them."

"Yes, but the sodding clerk didn't explain the matter to them properly. He seemed more concerned about getting an autograph."

"Why don't we call and leave a message for your fans, Officers Tim and Dan? Maybe they can help us."

"Those two brainiacs?"

"They're better than nothing."

The waiter returned. "My shift ends in four minutes. Do you want to order something or not?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely famished." Ross took the menu from Mo. "What do you have?"

"It's all on the menu, mister. Listen, Larry isn't here yet, and the manager won't let me leave until you order," he said with a sullen pout. "My shift ends in three minutes. So you better order fast."

"Who's Larry?"

"Larry is the waiter with the next shift."

"It doesn't matter who Larry is," the waiter shouted. "Would you just order? My shift ends in two minutes. Jeez."

When Ross glanced her way, Mo shrugged.

"You think you're so clever. Mr. Superspy. Yeah." The waiter slammed his hands down on the table, bringing his face mere inches from Ross's "I recognize you, Stephen Dagger. You celebrities think you can be as rude as you please and the little people can't do anything about it. Well, I'm going to do something about it. My shift is over."

"What did I do?" Ross asked, glancing at Mo with genuine confusion.

The waiter untied the pocketed, black ap.r.o.n from around his waist, walked to the bar, and then tossed it at the bartender on his way by.

Oh pickles. Now they couldn't order anything to eat... or drink.

"Fab." Ross tossed the menu down. He stood. "I'm going to talk to that desk clerk again. I was so irritated I forgot to ask him if I had any messages or deliveries."

When Ross had reached a point almost halfway across the hotel, Mo saw a familiar figure enter the elevator on the top floor and then begin his descent. On the ground floor, Gigantor exited the elevator before walking across the hotel lobby in a direct path toward Mo.

She grabbed the menu to hold it up in front of her face. Maybe the brute hadn't spotted her yet. Peeping over the top of the menu, she saw Gigantor coming, coming, coming. Should she try to run?

He pa.s.sed her and continued into the bar's depths. She turned to watch the large man as he walked through the bar to the booth where the shadowed figure waited.

"The hotel doesn't allow pets, ma'am." A voice came out of nowhere.

Mo jumped about a foot out off her chair while switching her gaze to the new waiter who had crept up to her table. The shift change had finally occurred.

"I don't have a pet," she said, directing her attention back to the booth. She still couldn't see the occupant's face.

"You have a pet right there in that carrier at your feet, ma'am." The new waiter's toe tapping caught her peripheral vision.

"I presume you allow service animals as required by law?" Mo asked.

"Yes of course we do, but-"

"This is my seeing eye dog."

"Ma'am, I can plainly see that is a cat," The waiter almost spit out the words in annoyance. "Not a dog."

"Really? I didn't know. Being blind and all. And quit calling me ma'am."

"Very funny, ma'am. You're obviously not blind."

"How do you know?"

He squirmed with uncertainty before his expression turned belligerent. "You're not blind. You're looking at the menu."

"I'm holding it up so that no one sees I'm blind."

He squirmed again. "The animal is in a carrier. How can it lead you anywhere?"

"I'm not deaf."

"I don't know what you mean." His brows knit in confusion.

"The animal tells me where to go."

"Are you trying to make me look ridiculous?" the new waiter demanded.

"You don't need my help to look ridiculous."

"Since you're blind you obviously won't be able to see this." The waiter saluted her with one finger-the middle-and walked away.

Over at Gigantor's table, the shadowed figure shifted and a pin light illuminated his face.

She recognized him.

Mo stood, knocking the table, which teetered on two legs before falling back into place.

"I'm going." She grabbed Talley's carrier and then marched toward Ross.

She heard a shout behind her. "Ma'am, you still have our menu." Over her shoulder she realized the waiter's shout had brought the attention of Gigantor and his friend right to her.

Tossing the menu down, she increased her speed to a trot. Talley emitted a loud "Mmmmrrrrwwww" protesting the abrupt movement.

After what seemed like an eternity, actually just two or three seconds, Mo reached Ross's side.

"Come on, Ross. We gotta go," she said, tugging his arm.

"Not yet," Ross growled out. "This cretin still doesn't understand the situation. He seems to think I'm making some kind of movie like candid camera. So he's being especially unhelpful."

"I know what's going on here." The desk clerk grinned. "And you're not going to catch me acting like I stupidly believe a ridiculous story."

"It's not a movie!"

"Yeah sure. That's what those frat guys thought and they ended up looking really stupid in that mock.u.mentary."

"Ross, it doesn't matter." Mo tugged again on his shirtsleeve. "Come on."

"Just a minute." He held up an index finger.

"No," she shouted. "We don't have a minute. I saw Gigantor and he was talking to someone I know. Worse, I think Gigantor saw me. So let's go."