The Lovely Chocolate Mob (28 page)

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Authors: Richard J. Bennett

Tags: #Suspense, #Fiction, #Christian

BOOK: The Lovely Chocolate Mob
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“He’s just confused,” I said. “Mixed-up.”

“Confused! I don’t think so; he knows exactly what he wants.”

“Look,” I said, becoming an advocate for Dr. Burke, “A guy like that is a girl-magnet. They throw themselves at him; they don’t care if you exist or not. He’s managed to stay loyal most of his married life.”

Helen turned to me with this “‘I don’t believe what I’m hearing” look and said, “Do you know how lame that sounds?”

“Yes,” I said. “I know how it sounds, but the issue is a real one; wherever he goes, girls follow.”

Helen said, “This is a bit unusual; why are you taking up for him, after…” and then she stopped in the middle of her sentence. She continued on another path, saying, “You would think Susan Lovely’s family would want to rub Franklin out.”

“She really doesn’t have much family left,” I replied. “That’s why the Cornelius Lovely estate was left to her. It disappeared, but Franklin had nothing to do with that.”

“If he planned to marry it, why would he steal it?” she said, almost as though she were joking.

“I also need to tell you something else, something that you can’t share with anybody, not your siblings, and especially not your children.”

“What’s that?”

I looked around for prying eyes and listening ears, then said in a low voice, “Franklin is safe and hiding at my home.”

Helen looked surprised and tried not to react. All she could say was, “What is he doing there? Why hasn’t he contacted us?”

“He was brought there by Walter Dale, who rescued him from the plans of the cartel; those are the people who want to kill him. Walter beat them to the punch and staged his ‘death.’ We’re taking care of him, but we won’t let him contact anybody by using the computer or telephone. Everything is bugged, and that’s why I wanted to see you face-to-face.”

“Walter Dale, from college?” Helen asked this with a frown. “He wasn’t exactly in our group, was he?”

Suppressing any anger, I replied, “No, Walter was pretty much in his own group. Genius is oftentimes misunderstood, and it can sometimes create a lonely world.”

Helen dropped that subject and moved on: “I tried to contact you soon after Franklin wound up dead, or missing. Why didn’t you return my call?”

“I’m sorry about that, but we were busy trying to get settled with Franklin. We had much to do, and like I’ve said before, the phone is suspect.”

“I see,” she said. She looked around, then focused her attention elsewhere, and said, “Miss Planter, are you helping with all of this?”

“I’m sorry, Helen. I asked Miss Planter if she would join us because I think she can be of benefit to you and Franklin. I was hoping that after this calms down and things get back to normal, there might be a time for what she has to offer.”

“And what’s that?” Helen asked.

“I decided a few months back that I really wasn’t happy, and so I wanted to see someone who could give me a ‘course-correction’ in life. I did a little research on resources in Lovely and decided that Miss Planter was the person to help. She’s a mental health counselor, and I’ve been visiting her office in hopes of finding a happier path in life.”

Helen looked at me as though she didn’t really understand. I continued, “I have talked with Franklin, and he’s agreed to attend marriage counseling sessions. Miss Planter has agreed to be the counselor for you and Franklin. Now, if you’re willing, these sessions could become a reality. Maybe all problems and issues can be brought to light and examined and solved.”

“Maybe,” said Helen, “but there’s still this little problem about Susan Lovely.”

“You understand I’m not a full-fledged marriage therapist,” said Miss Planter. “I’m more of a counselor. I listen to detect problems, then suggest possible solutions based on what is found.”

“How did you ever manage to get Franklin to agree to something like this?” asked Helen, turning back to me. “He’s never shown any interest when I had suggested it before.”

“We made a deal,” I said. He owes me something, and I suggested this as a means of payback.”

“He owes you his life. I see. It’s not his idea; it’s yours; you’re holding his feet to the fire.”

“Well, yes, but he didn’t refuse. He could have. That’s a start.” I was trying to sound positive without defending Franklin too much; I didn’t want her to think I was on his side. I didn’t want her to get the idea that I took sides.

“Do you know what kind of a risk you’re taking?” asked Helen. “Everybody in the city is looking for Franklin. The police have practically taken up residence in our guesthouse; I had to chase them out of the garage. They only agreed to locate there because it’s air-conditioned. They’re convinced he’s drained Susan Lovely’s bank account and murdered old man Lovely in order to gain access to his billions!”

“I know you’re under a lot of stress, Helen, but remember this: There are cutthroats out there looking for him. The only way for him to stay alive is to stay hidden. He can do nothing at the moment to clear his name. He’s made mistakes, but he’s your chosen husband and the father of your four children, all who seem to love him.”

This brought Helen into our reality for a moment. I hoped she wasn’t uncontrollably angry with him; the only reason he was in deep trouble now was from his involvement with Susan Lovely.

“I’ll try to stay calm and reasonable,” said Helen. “Karen, it’s good of you to agree to be a part of this. What do you charge?”

“There’s no charge, Mrs. Burke. You’re friends with Randall. That’s good enough for pro-bono.”

I looked over to Miss Planter, surprised by her quickness and style. She was covering up for me; I’d pay the fee, of course, but she didn’t let Helen know. This was good of Miss Planter.

“She’s really a very good counselor. I recommend her.”

Helen looked at me again; she knew something was going on. Woman’s intuition was at work; this was supposed to be about her marriage, not about me.

“I’ve got to get back to the house,” said Helen. “The police are there; they’ll probably get suspicious if I’m gone too long. They’re watching everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if they followed me here.”

“You’re just eating out and seeing old friends,” I said, giving her an explanation for “stepping out.” “They have no reason to suspect us. It might do some good to see other friends, also. Throw them off our trail; this will help Franklin.”

“Thanks for all you’re doing, Randall. Thank you also, Miss Planter.” Helen stood to leave, and I stood as well. “Franklin doesn’t deserve such friends.” She looked at me. “Keep in touch,” she said, and left.

I didn’t have much of an appetite after that and wound up picking at my spaghetti. Miss Planter noticed; she was a sharp lady, keen, and could read subtle body language.

“Randall, it’s getting late, and I’ve got to work tomorrow.” O.K., I had to work also. I had to get back to the house and check on Walter and Dr. Burke. I settled up with the waiter and left, taking Miss Planter back to her apartment. I escorted her to her front door, she opened it, then turned to me and said, “You’re a good man, Randall Owen,” reaching up to touch my cheek, then planting a big kiss right on my face! On my mouth, right on my garlic and spaghetti tasting mouth.

Well, hey, I wasn’t going to let her hit and run, so I put one right back on her, and we spent a few minutes smooching in her apartment before I decided that she really had to work tomorrow and I needed to make myself scarce. I left quickly, and once out in the car decided what had just happened was fun. I’d almost forgotten how much fun.

Now I didn’t mind going home and checking on the houseguests, both fugitives from the law, one from the chocolate mob as well. I wondered how much time I’d get for aiding and abetting a couple of suspects from justice.

Getting into a Routine

For the next few weeks we tried to establish a routine around the small house, as much as we possibly could. There were more groceries to be purchased since there were three of us now; hopefully I wasn’t under any surveillance. Maybe if I had gotten fatter, this would explain the extra food, but that would be a bad idea. It’s too easy to just let it go, to just get out of shape. I had started getting up a little earlier and doing sit-ups, walking more and trying to be aware of the food I ate. Having a purpose seemed to spark an interest in my overall health. Were all good things interrelated like this? Maybe I should have gotten interested in harboring fugitives much earlier. Taking care of oneself enables one to take care of others. Was this what it’s like being responsible for others? Was raising children like this?

Dr. Burke had been going stir crazy; he was used to a huge mansion and walking all over a big hospital and visiting patients and being on the golf course and the lake. Walter reminded him if he thought it was bad here, he ought to try prison. At least here he could cook his own food, which wasn’t really saying much.

He did turn out to be a great help around the house, though; he vacuumed, washed dishes, cleaned the refrigerator, laundered the clothes, folding and putting them away, something I wasn’t used to. Usually I threw my socks into a drawer and dug them out of a pile; it was different finding what I needed in little neat stacks. He cleaned the bathroom, emptied the trash, and kept the house in overall neat order, and probably felt as though he had to earn his keep; he came here with nothing and wound up wearing some of my extra clothes, which I didn’t mind; I gave him what I could. They were a little big on him, but he made-do.

Walter watched television and played on my computer and used up all the paper in the printer. He had been working on some project but didn’t say what it was; all I knew was he wanted me to purchase lots of color ink. He avoided any gadgets and gizmos in his RV, since he’d been traced by the FBI after intercepting funds meant for Susan Lovely. By using a separate computer, he reasoned, he’d thrown the bureau off track.

Reminding Dr. Burke of his situation helped to convince him to stay put. We did what we could to relieve some of the tension; at night David came over after work, so we wound up playing poker a lot, and sometimes David’s wife, Mae Ling, sent oriental food over, which was eaten quickly, her cooking being much better than ours. We told David that Dr. Burke was my cousin; of course he knew better, knowing Franklin from college days, but if he were dragged into the courts he could say we told him we were cousins, and David would be considered an innocent man, who just played poker with the guys.

Table games were better with four people: the small talk that accompanied the games, the exchange of ideas, the fun of the game, and the good oriental food. This made for a good end of the day. We’d tell jokes and swap stories, but when Dr. Burke mentioned his warning from the cartel, being locked in a room and shown photos of his past, Walter, David and I exchanged glances and moved on to other subjects.

I usually went to bed at a reasonable hour since I had to work the next day; David had a wife to go home to. Walter and Dr. Burke stayed up playing cards after we quit; it appeared as though Walter had made a new friend, and Dr. Burke seemed to overlook most of Walter’s eccentricities. I supposed a doctor had seen much of the public and had learned to get along with different patients. Maybe he’d just grown up a bit; he didn’t have anything to do with Walter while we were in college. Maybe he wasn’t just another pretty face, after all, anymore.

I had continued seeing Miss Planter for our usual “mental evaluation” sessions, but it was clear our meetings had taken on a new atmosphere. She asked me personal questions, my views on life and issues, and allowed me to do the same with her. We tried to schedule marriage counseling with Franklin and Helen, but it was hard to get Helen away from home. Finally, one day Helen told the cops that she was going “out” so she could feel normal and in control again, and they seemed to agree with her; she may have become an irritant to them as well. She’d drive around to make sure she wasn’t being followed and learned to look for bugs or strange electronic devices on her clothes and in her purse and on the car. The medical center building was downtown anyway, so if her car was seen on a screen, she could say she was at any store or movie or restaurant in the area, and they’d never know the difference.

Walter and I managed to sneak Franklin out of the house by putting a wig, dark glasses, and a mustache on him and loading him into my car while we walked next to him on both sides, so nosey neighbors wouldn’t get an eye-full. He’d stay down in the back seat until we arrived at the medical center, then we’d take the stairs up to the third floor and walk in the back way to Miss Planter’s office. We tried to avoid Phyllis the receptionist that way, as we felt she’d be sure to know the difference between real hair and a fake wig. The mustache and glasses didn’t look too convincing, either.

I’d be off for lunch, and Dr. and Mrs. Burke would take my time slot for their meetings with Miss Planter. I’d wind up sitting in the waiting room during these sessions, reading an e-book, and this involved being seen by the receptionist a few times; I’m sure she thought things were strange, but she was trained not to pry. I’d stay silent and try not to draw attention to myself. At the end of the meeting, Mrs. Burke would come out into the waiting room while Franklin would go out the back door; I’d meet Helen in front of the receptionist and walk out with her; I’d then meet Franklin downstairs and drive him back to the house. To the secretary, it probably looked as though Helen were there for pre-marital counseling with me; why tell her the truth and get her involved as well? The fewer people who knew about this, the better. It would have been difficult for Miss Planter and Helen to both drive to my house; Miss Planter had to be near the clinic, and Helen would be taking a chance of being followed; that wouldn’t go well for Franklin, or me.

One evening, I arrived home after work to find Franklin more depressed than usual. Since he hadn’t been out all day, it couldn’t have been related to a marital counseling session. I asked Walter if anything bad had happened, and he said, “Oh yeah, we were in the den, watching the news, when that female newshound, Darla Bell, had made her way to Susan Lovely’s home for an exclusive interview. Since it was Susan’s money I stole, I mean borrowed, the cops have been all itchy to put the blame on Franklin. The evening news will come on in a few moments; stick around; I’m sure they’ll broadcast it again.”

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