The Lovely Chocolate Mob

The Agreement

Early in the morning my cell phone rang. I reached for it, picked it up, and viewed it; it was from Helen. I didn’t know what to say; how was I to explain to Helen that her once presumed dead and now-missing husband was sleeping in my living room/den at that very moment? I was fuzzy-minded and decided not to answer it and let it keep ringing until it stopped. I heard it beep again, telling me that a message had been left to my in-box. I couldn’t trust the phone or the airwaves just then; I probably needed to tell her face-to-face what had developed. Until then, it was just best to not answer the phone and include her in our mix-up. The police or FBI or the cartel (or Walter!) could be listening in, and I had spilled too many secrets already. Rolling over, I went back to sleep.

A few hours later I awoke feeling rested and got up to make breakfast for Walter, my new guest, and myself. Trying not to make too much noise, I walked into the kitchen through the dark and could hear Dr. Burke snoring on the couch; at least he was getting a sound sleep. I made bacon and eggs and had orange juice for myself and was sure to make plenty for my two guests. I heard the snoring stop, and then the stirring start up. I was eating at the kitchen table; the only light on was from the vent-a-hood in the kitchen. Dr. Burke stumbled into the kitchen/dining area.

“Something smells good!” he said.

“I made extra; get yourself a plate and have some breakfast.”

Turning on the overhead kitchen light, he found his plate and glass and utensils, then joined me at the table.

“Thanks for putting me up,” he said. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“I can think of a way,” I said.

“What’s that?” he said, stopping in the middle of a bite.

“I have a friend who’s a counselor. I’d like for you and Helen to schedule an appointment for marriage counseling.”

He put his fork back down on the plate, saying, “Oh, now come on! I was hoping it was something I could do for you, like medical advice, or treatment, lend you money, or… mow your lawn, for Pete’s sake!” Guess what I said made him lose his appetite.

“My yard is cut, and you need to stay inside,” I said. Besides, your marriage is more important than my lawn. I’m in fairly good shape, for my age, and from what I understand, you don’t have any money to be lending anybody.”

Dr. Burke looked at me with a puzzled look and said, “Now, how did you find that out?”

“I’ve heard things, seen things, and came to that conclusion all by myself. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“Well, how did you figure it out?” asked Dr. Burke, curious how someone would know of his financial situation.

“Let’s review,” I said. “You live in the nicer section of town, you have a wife who doesn’t work, you have kids…”

“How did you know Helen doesn’t work?” Dr. Burke asked. “You seem to know a lot about my business.”

Maybe I had spoken too much. Thinking quickly, I said, “I’ve seen Helen in the newspaper. She volunteers for every do-good organization in town. With all that volunteering, who has time for work?”

Thinking on this for a moment, Dr. Burke said, “That makes sense.” He went back to eating. “Yes, I am currently experiencing a financial setback.”

“I imagine I’ll know a whole lot more about you in the next few days,” I said.

“So why do you want me to see a marriage counselor?” asked Dr. Burke.

“To help preserve your family, to save your marriage, to give your children a fighting chance in this world to grow up in stability, and most of all…” I paused, for dramatic effect.

“Most of all, what?” he said.

“Most of all, to pay me back, which is what you said you wanted to do.”

Franklin Burke sat there, going through all the reasons poured on him, and said, “All right, Randall Owen. I’ll do it. I do owe you.”

“Good,” I said. “I’ll talk to the counselor later. In the meantime, lay low for a while. You need to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Nobody can know you’re here. If anybody finds out, it could mean the end of you, and maybe me, too. You don’t want me to get killed for protecting you, do you?”

“No… I guess not.”

“That means no phone calls. I’ll need your cell phone.”

“I don’t have it; Walter took it from me when he brought me here.”

“What did he do with it?”

“I think he took the battery out of it, he said something about triangulation.”

Good for Walter. “Well, don’t be contacting anybody. Don’t use my hard-line phone, and don’t be calling Helen or especially that Susan Lovely. I don’t want them to know you’re here and I don’t want the police, the FBI, or the cartel knowing you’re here. I know you’ll be able to make contact if you want to, but it’s best you don’t. The whole world is after you, it seems.”

“Okay, Randall. You’re the boss.”

After that was settled, I got showered and shaved and ready for work. As I was heading out the door, Dr. Burke asked, “Say, Randall, how come you’re doing all this for me? After all I did to you back in college?”

I looked back at him. “I’m not doing this for you.”

“Are you doing this for Helen?”

“Partly, yes. But I’ve found that the motivation for this comes mostly from your innocent children.”

Franklin looked shocked at this; it hurt him. I didn’t mean for it to.

“How did you know about my children?” he asked.

Seeing I couldn’t keep this a secret any longer, I said, “Helen told me about them. She suspected you were having an affair.” I left Mindy out of this; if he wanted her to know, maybe he’d tell her later.

Dr. Burke turned pale at the news his wife suspected the truth. Maybe I had better let him know his whole world hadn’t collapsed on him.

“You have four beautiful children, Franklin, and they love you very much.”

Hopefully that reassured him that a good life was worth living. He just sat there, now staring off into the distance.

I went to work and somehow muddled through the first hour of work, working my hardest, still playing catch-up. After the first hour, I was really on a roll again and began to feel sharp on the current project. In the second hour, I was making progress, and the same in the third and fourth, when it came time to stop. It was lunchtime, and I had an appointment with Miss Planter.





With the Counselor

Walking into the mental health office, I couldn’t help but notice a little smirk on the secretary/receptionist’s face when she saw me, or was I imagining that? Maybe it was the large package I was carrying which started her expression. I don’t like young kids smirking at me, no matter how pretty they are. Maybe that’s another fault of mine I should discuss with the counselor.

Miss Planter opened the door from her office and invited me in. The earlier appointment had just left, so nobody else was around. I gave her the box of chocolates. “What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a present.” I said. I was hesitant to name the origin.

“A box of chocolates? Wow, this seems to be a deluxe edition! Hey, what are you trying to do, make me fat?”

“You can share them with Phyllis,” I said. “She can pass them out to the clients.”

“This is almost too good for clients!” Miss Planter laughed. “No offense, Mr. Owen.”

I laughed, for the first time in what seemed a long time. “No offense taken, Miss Planter.”

“Phyllis can handle this better than me, I’m sure,” continued Miss Planter.

“I have to tell you… this is from the bad people. The cartel. They know about you.”

Miss Planter looked into my eyes. “They know about me? How? You didn’t… tell them about me?”

“No, I didn’t even mention you; I didn’t tell them about myself, either, but they knew about me.” I updated her on the whole story, what had happened since I left to warn Dr. Franklin Burke, my abduction, the questioning, trying to find Helen, and then coming home to a surprise.

“And he’s staying at your house?” she asked.

“Yes, he’s there now. Not so loud, you never know who’s listening.”

“Did you check your lapel, then?” she said.

“Already done. Walter’s not listening in, not today, anyhow.”

“I think you should tell Helen about her husband,” said Miss Planter. “She’s probably worried sick after finding out he’s not dead, but missing. She might think he’s been kidnapped. It’s a sure bet the police are looking for him. They can provide protection.”

“You don’t know these people. They seem to be everywhere. They look like policemen; they might even be policemen. It’s hard to know who to trust!”

“You need to meet face-to-face with Helen, or get her away from the police and her family long enough to tell her not to worry about her husband, that he’s safe and not in the wrong hands.”

“Yes, you’re right. It’s something I should do. I’ve told Dr. Burke not to contact anybody, to just disappear. He has to be on the lam for awhile.”

“How long is this going to last?” Miss Planter asked.

“As long as it takes,” I said. “Until the danger is over, at least. Maybe he’ll have to go into some kind of witness protection program.”

“But that’s only if he testifies, and he hasn’t seen anybody doing anything. You’re the one who’s a candidate for that!”

“But I’m not the one who’s in danger.” Switching gears, I said, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Okay.” she said.

“You and I, we seem to be friends, right? I mean, I trust you, and you trust me?”

“Yes, I think we’ve become friends of a sort,” she agreed. “What’s the favor?”

“I’ve made a deal with Dr. Burke that he and his wife would come to you for marriage counseling.”

“Marriage counseling? With a cheater and a spend-thrift?” she said in an astonished tone.

“Well, yes. I mean, you can do that, can’t you?”

“I can do some of it, up to a point. My job is more of a diagnostic, evaluating type. I’m not what you’d call a certified marriage counselor. Besides, my schedule is all filled-up!”

“You wouldn’t have to rearrange your schedule. How about seeing them, in my slot, and we’d rotate? I could have a day, they could have a day, and we could continue like that.”

“Your slot? That would work, but it might take twice as long to find out, examine, and evaluate all the issues… what about your issues, your goals, your happiness?”

“Strangely enough, I seem to be very happy at the moment.” I waited for her to get it, and she did. Her eyes went down and she tried to stop her smile, but there it was. It was good to see her smile. And we had come to an agreement.

“I’ve still got to talk to Helen about this after I inform her of her husband’s whereabouts. Let me call her now, with you here.”

“I thought you didn’t trust phones,” said Miss Planter.

“I’m not using my phone; I’m using yours. Mine may be under surveillance. Besides, I won’t say anything revealing.” Somehow, I was finding that being in Miss Planter’s presence gave me strength and clarity of thought.

I dialed Helen’s number using Miss Planter’s desktop. Helen’s phone rang, and a voice said, “Hello?” It was Helen. There was no mistaking her voice.

“Yes, Helen. It’s me. I’ve got to talk with you.”

“Randall! Did you hear about Franklin? I’ve been trying to reach you; he’s missing!”

“I heard something through the grapevine. Listen, I need to talk with you. Can you leave the kids for awhile and meet me after work today at Luigi’s Italian Restaurant?”

“Yes. All the kids are with relatives; they’re farmed out for a few days. What’s this about?”

“I can’t talk now; we’ll talk later. See you at seven, then? Come alone.”

“I’ll see you at seven. Bye.”

I turned to Karen. “I’d like for you to come along but don’t know if you should get in any deeper than you already are. In fact, it might be wise for you to put some distance between us. These people play rough.”

“Let me decide that,” said Miss Planter. “I’m the counselor; that’s what you pay me for. Pick me up at 6:30, my place. Let me give you my address.”





Television Journalism

I got off work at 5 p.m. and headed straight home for a shower and a change of clothes; since I’d be buying dinner for two women tonight, I wanted to look decent.

When I walked in the door, there were Walter and Dr. Burke watching television. The local news was on, featuring Darla Bell, one of the talking heads. She was in the field, so the story must have been important. Usually, for less flashy stories, minor news reporters are used, but for the big stories they let the anchormen out. This probably had something to do with ratings, but I don’t know how. Anyway, she was covering the story of the missing doctor and was seen interviewing a local police detective, Lieutenant Bryan Bond, who said a few things that roused the good doctor…

Darla Bell: “Lieutenant, can you share with us any leads concerning the strange missing-person case of Dr. Franklin Burke?”

Lt. Bond: “Yes, I think we can say we’ve established a motive for his disappearance.”

Dr. Burke sat up at this. I wanted to take a shower but came back out from the hallway to watch this segment. Walter was also all tuned-in.

Lt. Bond: “As it turns out, a vast amount of money was removed from the bank account of Miss Susan Lovely, a known acquaintance of Dr. Franklin Burke, and it appears that this amount is quite significant.”

“What’s that got to do with my disappearance?” asked Dr. Burke. “Are they trying to tie me in?”

Darla Bell: “Can you tell us how much money is involved here, Lieutenant?”

Lt. Bond: “Not at this time, Miss Bell, but our department will contact you when we’re allowed to share that information with the public. For now, let’s just say that a man on the run could live quite comfortably, probably for the rest of his life, on the amount he stole.”

Darla Bell: “So what the police department suspects is that it was Dr. Burke who somehow made off with money belonging to Susan Lovely, a local celebrity model and heir to the Cornelius Lovely Chocolate fortune?”

“What the heck?” said Dr. Burke. “She’s…”

“Sh-h-h-h!” said Walter, locked in on the TV screen. “I wanna hear what she has to say.”

Lt. Bond: “We’re not saying that it was Dr. Burke, Miss Bell. We will say that he is a ‘person of interest’ in this investigation, and…”

With that, Lt. Bond looked at the camera and said, “Dr. Franklin Burke, if you’re watching this newscast, you need to report to the nearest police station and turn yourself in. We have questions that only you can answer. If you’re innocent, you have nothing to fear; if you’re guilty, it will go far better for you if you come in under your own power.”

Then he turned his attention back to the news journalist. “That’s what this appears to be, Miss Bell. Dr. Burke had access and motive, motive since we have ascertained that he was in dire financial straits at home…”

Dr. Burke quickly stood up. “This is bull! ‘Dire financial straits?’ Does everybody know my business?”

“Keep calm, Franklin,” I said. “The police are just doing their job; they’re trying to find a reason for your disappearance.”

“I’ve got to call Susan and find out what this is all about! How could she let them suspect me?” He looked at me and asked, “Would she suspect me?”

That last question hurt. He looked like a wounded puppy. Maybe he really was in love with that girl, and not just her money.

Walter looked uncomfortable through this whole scene but remained stoic and glued to the television.

“You can’t be calling anybody, Franklin.” I said. “If the mob finds out you’re here, your life won’t be worth a plugged nickel.”

“What’s a plugged nickel?” asked Walter.

“Something that’s worth less than five cents,” I said.

Franklin waved his arms as to hush us both. He’d heard something more disturbing. “What’s this now…?”

Lt. Bond: “… Dr. Franklin Burke was the family doctor for the Lovely family and was the personal physician to Cornelius Lovely in his last moments on earth. The department has obtained a court order to exhume the body of Cornelius Lovely, for the purpose of an autopsy.”

“An autopsy? He died of natural causes!” screamed Franklin. Walter and I looked at each other, as if we didn’t care for the way this was all headed.

Lt. Bond: “… if we find anything unusual, anything out of the ordinary, we will then charge Dr. Franklin Burke with first-degree murder in hastening the demise of our beloved city patriarch, business leader, and benefactor, Cornelius Lovely.”

Walter turned to Franklin. “Looks like you’re in hot water, Doc.”

“Stealing? Murder? I’ve got to get out of here! I’ve got to contact a lawyer!” said Dr. Burke, standing and almost in a panic.

“You’ve got to stay alive; that’s what you’ve got to do!” I said, over his protests. That rang a bell with Dr. Burke, who sat back down on the couch.

Walter tried some comforting words, like, “Jail’s not all that bad, Doc,” but somehow I don’t think the good doctor was convinced.

I had to get my shower.





At Luigi’s

I picked up the beautiful Miss Planter at 6:30 p.m. sharp, then we drove over to Helen Ceraldi-Burke’s part of town, to Luigi’s Italian Restaurant. Luigi’s was a family-owned, real Italian restaurant, with Luigi being a first-generation Italian-American immigrant. He was quite aged and spent most of his time at home now, but his sons, grandsons, nephews and nieces continued to run the restaurant. They had managed to keep the atmosphere of Italy in the establishment, with stonework and wrought irons displays, and of course real Italian food, but had also modernized where they could; they had to stay with the times to compete.

I arrived with Miss Planter; we found a booth and got comfortable. A few minutes later, Helen walked in. I stood to greet her, and she was a bit surprised by seeing another beautiful woman in my presence. I didn’t expect her reaction, but for some reason, it felt good.

I made the introductions and sat Helen with us in our booth next to me.

“Helen, I have something to tell you. I need for you to remain calm and not make a show.”

“Okay, Randall. Nothing could rattle me now. I’m ready.”

“Franklin is in danger from people who want to kill him; he didn’t fake his death, and he didn’t steal anybody’s money. These people mean business.”

“Kill him? Who would want to kill Franklin? And how would you know this?”

I told Helen about meeting the Lovely cartel, about a group planning to ”rub out” Franklin for his involvement with Susan Lovely, for any blemish on the Lovely Chocolate Company’s global reputation. After explaining the economic reasons for wanting to do away with Franklin, I could see Helen was visibly angry.

“He’s continued to have contact with that Susan Lovely woman?” she said through clinched teeth.

“Yes, it appears so,” I said.

Helen was disappointed and frustrated but managed to say, “Thanks for at least not telling me in front of Mindy, or any of the other children. Let them continue to think their father is loyal.”

“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.