Part 26 (2/2)

”It was Heather Davies, wasn't it?” Mo said. ”She's behind the car break-in a.s.signment, 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 had 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 gla.s.s side panels before she opened the door. ”Creamed s.h.i.+take 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 doork.n.o.b.

”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, pus.h.i.+ng 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 fiancee.” 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.

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