The Lovely Chocolate Mob

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.”

So I settled in the den with Franklin and Walter to catch the evening news, and sure enough, it played out like he said.

Darla Bell: “Here we are inside the gated community of ‘Sweet Dreams,’ named for a line of chocolate from the Lovely Chocolate Factory, and also at the home of Susan Lovely, heir to the Lovely Chocolate family fortune and recent victim of cyber-crime. Miss Lovely, what are your views of the recent family heist?”

I tried not to laugh when the camera panned to Susan Lovely, who was dressed in a hat, sunglasses, and a pink bikini and some jewelry, and lying in one of those plastic reclining chairs by her pool. She didn’t look the part of a victim, rather appeared as though she were a spoiled, pampered girl looking for some publicity.

Susan Lovely: “I hope the police find the person, or persons, who committed this crime against me and my good family’s name. It’s been a horrendous experience not knowing what happened to the Lovely family fortune! Grandfather would be so hurt by this.”

Walter chuckled under his breath here. I looked over at him and, even though I was grinning as well, shook my head “No,” for “Not now.” I wanted to hear all of this, and Dr. Burke was glued to the set; he had suffered enough without our laughing at him or this situation.

Darla Bell: “Do you feel that with the disappearance of your family physician, Dr. Franklin Burke, as well as your fortune, that this is more than just coincidence?”

Susan Lovely: “Well, Frank… Dr. Burke has disappeared, and so has my fortune. It certainly looks suspicious to me; what do you think?”

Darla Bell: “Do you think he had anything to do with the premature death of your beloved grandfather, Cornelius Lovely?”

Dr. Burke stood up. “Premature death? He was 94 years old, for Pete’s sake!”

“Shh! Shh! I want to hear this,” I said. Franklin sat back down.

Susan Lovely: “My grandfather was healthy before he died. It certainly would be beneficial for Franklin to remove my grandfather if he indeed were the one who stole and made off with my rightful fortune. I hope the police find him before he spends it all on gambling and wild women!”

Franklin stood up again. “Gambling? Wild women? What the heck?”

Walter started laughing yet tried to stifle himself. He turned to Dr. Burke and said, “She’s thrown you under the bus, Gus!” I looked at the television and saw a little movement in the background. “Who’s that?” I asked.

There was a young man, dressed in a florescent blue “Speedo” bathing suit and a chromed chain necklace, bringing a drink to Susan Lovely on a platter. “I think that’s the new pool boy,” muttered Dr. Burke. “Susan said she needed someone to clean her pool and was looking for someone to hire.”

The young man leaned down for Susan to take her drink. “Thank you, Julio,” she said. He leaned down further to kiss her square on the lips, in front of Darla Bell and the camera. When he stood up to leave, Susan smiled at Darla. “It is so hard to find such good help these days. I am truly blessed even though I am suffering from financial deprivation.”

Franklin stood up and walked out of the room. He could only go one place for privacy, the bathroom, and he shut the door. We were silent out of respect for his feelings but were also suppressing our laughter all the same. Things had gone from bad to worse for Franklin. Walter and I looked at each other and just shook our heads. Walter observed, “She doesn’t seem to be missing Franklin too much, do you think?”

I chuckled and answered, “No, not a bit.”

Darla Bell came back on the screen, saying, “Still no sign of the missing family physician, Dr. Franklin Burke. Thief, murderer, or both? Will the missing money ever be found? Will Susan Lovely’s financial estate ever be able to recover from this blow? Will the town of Lovely recover from the premature death of Cornelius Lovely, founder, employer, and benefactor? Will the police ever find the fugitive? Stay tuned to KDBC news for further developments! This is Darla Bell, reporting from the community of ‘Sweet Dreams.’”

Before turning the television off via remote, Walter said to himself, “Lookin’ well, Darla Bell…”





The Kids

Dr. Burke walked around for the next few days in a gloomy despair; he kept busy around the house, but the workload had fallen off considerably, as though he couldn’t talk himself into working. He would exercise a little, but his heart wasn’t in it, and he’d quit halfway through any push-ups or sit-ups. He had even taken to reading from Mother’s huge Bible that I kept on the coffee table in the den. It seemed to comfort him a little, but since his gloom was worse than we had seen before, Walter, David, and I decided we should do something to cheer up the good doctor. He needed to see his kids.

They were at school for most of the day and at night were coming back home to stay with Helen. J.R. was active in sports, and since summer was coming up, the little leagues were getting an early start. The teams were already formed, uniforms bought, and schedules printed. We were going to treat Dr. Burke to a little league game. He needed to get out, and it was doubtful there was too much criminal activity in the city park for the police to worry about.

The night of the first game we dressed Dr. Burke up in the wig, sunglasses, and mustache, and since he was wearing my clothes, he looked more like a regular person than a doctor. He certainly wasn’t wearing a high-dollar outfit, or upper-crust “recreation” clothes. He had to settle for faded blue jeans, tennis shoes, a green T-shirt, and an unbuttoned blue-collared, long-sleeved shirt over it, with the tail hanging out and sleeves rolled-up.

I had seen Helen at the marriage counseling meetings and told her that, if she were able, to have as many of the girls at J.R.’s baseball game as she could, since their daddy was going to be there. She couldn’t tell them why, however, since the less they knew, the better for all involved.

The children needed to see their father as well. They knew was he was missing, and everyone in town was looking for him for crimes against humanity, or Cornelius Lovely, but not much more than that. All the children’s peers at school knew was what their parents and the television was telling them, that Old Man Lovely was dead, the family fortune was missing, and that Dr. Burke was the most likely candidate for his murder. This was hard on all the school children, but Mindy, a college student, missed much of this. J.R., the youngest, took most of the burden since he couldn’t reason out the situation or defend his father among his playmates.

Helen didn’t want this to look like a family outing; the police might get suspicious. The children were all told to get to the park separately, in their own cars and bicycles, if they could. J.R. rode with a teammate to the park, Mindy and Beth took their own cars, and Lucia went bike riding for the afternoon. Nobody was at the Burke household except for Sylvia, the maid, and the various pets. The police didn’t really see a pattern until the two girls took off in their cars, at separate times. Everybody was gone, and nobody told the cops where they were going.

It was around 8 p.m. when J.R.’s team started playing. We arrived after the first inning, walking in as though we owned the place, and sat high in the bleachers. Franklin was with me, and Walter and David came in another car. Walter had dressed exactly like Dr. Burke, so he could act as a decoy if Dr. Burke were spotted. We sat in the far right bleachers, behind first base; Walter and David sat in the far-left bleachers, behind third base. David was dressed an awfully lot like me, which was a lot like Dr. Burke. I hoped we all four weren’t spotted together; we’d probably draw more attention as a foursome, four middle-aged men who dressed a lot alike, who all shopped at the same dollar store.

Dr. Burke and Walter both wore a wig and dark colored glasses and a mustache. It was especially good that they weren’t seen together, as they would have drawn looks from the people in the park.

The game carried on, until J.R. came up to bat. I watched Dr. Burke during this time, hoping he wouldn’t cheer too much and draw attention to himself. We were only there to watch, and not be watched. He was a well-known man in the community, and we didn’t want anybody putting two and two together concerning the strange man cheering J.R. Burke.

The girls had also arrived at the ballpark and managed to find each other and were seated in the stands, up high in the bleachers behind the backstop, where they could talk and see the most action. This is where it was most crowded; the parents all gathered together in this general area; the girls felt safer in the middle of a crowd. All they knew was they were there to cheer for their little brother’s team. If Helen was there, she was not seen.

The game was mostly even, and the teams were tied 11 to 11 by the eighth inning. The park lights had come on, and the teams were now playing with lights. We were mostly under cover of darkness, where we felt safer. I told Dr. Burke to remain seated, and I’d try to contact his daughters so they could meet with him. Since two of them didn’t know me, and I’d only met Mindy once, I hoped she’d remember me, or else I’d have to find a way of convincing them.

I walked over to the crowded middle area and climbed the bleachers to the top. Walking towards the middle where the three sisters were seated, I stood as near to them as I could and tried to capture their attention.

“Mindy! Mindy!” I called. All three sisters looked in my direction, which was about 15 feet away. Mindy didn’t recognize me, which was what I was afraid of. They started talking among themselves and giving me the evil eye, as though I were some sort of aged pervert. Great. I hoped the other spectators didn’t turn to look at me in the same manner.

I sat back down, deciding it was time to use the telephone. I called Walter, who was probably deeply engrossed in the game, who probably wouldn’t want to be disturbed. “Pick it up, Walter,” I said to myself. It rang four times and then a recording came on, telling me to leave a message. I called him again. This time he picked it up.

“Hello?” he said. I could tell he wasn’t in the mood to be cooperative.

“Walter,” I said, trying to sound calm, “I need for you to do something.”

“You need for me to do something. Now? Can’t it wait?” he said.

“If we don’t act now then ‘Mr. X’ may not be able to see his kids,” I said, trying not to name Dr. Burke. “The problem is, the kids don’t recognize me, and ‘Mrs. X’ isn’t anywhere to be seen.”

“I’m getting popcorn!” said Walter. “Why don’t you give ‘Mrs. X’ a call? I’ve got my hands full!” he said, sounding exasperated.

“I’ve already called ‘Mrs. X’ too many times in the past,” I said. “I don’t want my number showing up on any police reports. I don’t want to appear being part of a pattern; that’s why I’m asking you to call her.”

“Well, what if I don’t want my number showing up on any police reports?” said Walter, crunching popcorn. “I’m a wanted man, you know.”

“Being a wanted man already,” I reasoned, “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Walter was stumped by this twisted logic but said “Give me her number,” anyway.

So I did and added, “Tell Helen that her daughters don’t recognize me. Tell her to call them and let them know I’m sitting nearby, to let them know I’m legit.”

“Yeah, I’ll do just that,” said Walter, “and I may tell her a few other things besides.”

“Now Walter, be nice. She is the kids’ mother, after all.”

“I’ll try to remember that! Later!” and he hung up, presumably to call Helen.

“Hello?” said Helen, as she answered her cell phone.

“Hello, is this Helen Ceraldi…Burke?” asked Walter, picking at his popcorn near the popcorn stand.

“Yes, who’s calling?”

“This is an old college alumnus, Walter H. Dale. I have a message from Randall Owen.”

“Walter Dale, from college?” asked Helen. Walter could hear the unpleasant surprise in her voice.

“Yes, it’s me, Helen Ceraldi…Burke. Randall is looking for you at the ball park. Where are you?”

“I’m sitting out in the parking lot in my car; why didn’t he call me?”

The phone went dead, and Helen looked at it. That was under a minute, not a long call; oh well, she didn’t want to talk to Walter, anyway.

A voice next to her said, “He didn’t call you because he didn’t want the police seeing his number contacting you.”

She jumped as the voice spoke and turned to see a familiar-sounding man, peeling a mustache from his face and removing a wig and sunglasses. What stood in his place was an older, more worn Walter Dale than she had remembered from college days.

“Oh! Hello, Walter. Nice to see you again!”

“Why aren’t you in there cheering the team?” asked Walter. “J.R.’s doing good.”

“How did you find me?” asked Helen.

“Who else in town would have a flashy red convertible? It’s you all over,” said Walter, rubbing the hood of the car.

“I guess you’re with Randall, then? You know everything that’s been going on?” she asked, trying to not spill any information.

“Yes, and yes, I know everything. Why aren’t you in there? He needs your help.”

“I… I didn’t want run into Franklin,” she stammered. “If you know everything, then you know he and I aren’t on very good terms. I don’t want to see him any more than I have to.”

Walter leaned down next to Helen, putting his arms on the door window area, his head on his arms. “Say, aren’t you in some kind of marital counseling with your doctor-husband? Aren’t you two trying to get everything together?”

“Yes, we’re currently in counseling, Walter.”

“Well, while you’re there, Mrs. Helen Ceraldi hyphen Burke, has the counselor ever asked you why you have two last names instead of one like everybody else?”

“I have two last names because I love my father and want to honor him,” said Helen through gritted teeth. She really didn’t like the idea that Walter knew of her family problems.

“Oh, that’s funny ‘cause I thought mebbe you didn’t think your husband’s name was good enough by itself… as though you’re ashamed of him!”

“What I think of my husband is none of your business, Walter!”

“Right now, everything is my business,” said Walter. “And I’d be real careful about how you treat your hub-hub; he is your meal-ticket, as well as being your pathway to riches.”

“After the divorce, there’ll be plenty to live on,” Helen said, “And he’ll have to pay me for child support for the next ten years!”

Walter slowly stood up, looked down at her and said, “You could do that. Or… you could put on your big girl panties and see this thing through. The only reason I agreed to be a part of this was because of your four kids, that plus the fact that Randall is busting his butt trying to keep your husband alive and your marriage together, you spoiled, rotten little brat!”

Helen looked surprised as if she’d never thought of this before, as though no one had ever spoken to her that way, because in truth nobody ever had. Walter wasn’t finished.

“You’ve always gotten everything you wanted ‘cause you were cute; you treated others as if their feelings didn’t matter, but now there’s another cutie who’s about to take what you’ve got, including your family. And here you are, sitting on your duff because you’ve found your feller is human just like everybody else, who probably burned himself out keeping you living in style in that mansion, and instead of forgiving him like Randall forgave you, you’re gonna… why you…” Then Walter stopped and looked off into the distance, and quickly calmed down. “I told Randall I was going to be nice to you.”

“What am I supposed to do?” asked Helen, a bit shell- shocked at this outburst, and rattled that anyone could see into her soul.





The Last Inning

I was watching the girls and could see one of them answer her cell phone. It was Mindy. She talked, and then a look of recognition came over her face, and her mouth worded “Oh!” She hung the phone up and motioned to her sisters to follow her. She came over to where I was sitting, apologizing and saying, “I’m sorry, Mr. Owen, I didn’t recognize you!”

“That’s all right, girls,” I said. “Now listen, and don’t say anything. I need for you to follow me because we’re going to see somebody you love.”

The two younger sisters looked at each other like they didn't know what I was talking about; Mindy looked down at them and mouthed another word: “Daddy.” The two girls almost went ballistic, and I put my finger over my mouth, saying “Sh-h-h-h-hhhh!” Mindy did the same; it was important we not draw any attention to ourselves.

I walked down the steps, with the three girls following maybe six feet behind me. I turned to go down behind the bleachers, and we walked to the far right area, almost under the bleachers, where no one was. I told the girls to stay there, behind the bleachers in right field, and I'd go in and get their father.

I went back into the right field bleacher entrance, looking for Dr. Burke, who wasn’t sitting where he was supposed to be! “Oh great,” I said out loud. “What happened?” Looking around, I finally spotted him and the sunglasses and the silly wig and mustache, down behind the fenced-in dugout area, behind his son’s team. There he stood, with everyone to see, trying to make contact with his son. I could see J.R. spin around, wondering who that man was. I saw the sunglasses come off, saw him peel the mustache, and then the look of surprise on J.R.’s face. Fortunately, Dr. Burke had left the wig on, so most of the people behind him didn’t see the obvious change. Dr. Burke was on the outside of the dugout, and J.R. on the inside, their hands touching at the fence like visitors in jail. I was making my way down to that area and could see the team coach give a concerned look; one of his players had some outside business and should be concentrating on the game. However, since it wasn’t J.R.’s turn to bat, there wasn’t too much of a problem, and the coach turned his attention back to the game. I made it down to Dr. Burke in time to hear him say, “I didn’t do it, son. I didn’t steal that money, and I didn’t kill Old Man Lovely.”

J.R. said back, “I know you didn’t, Dad.” Just then the coach turned around again, and the look of recognition spread across his face. He went from little league coach to concerned citizen in a flash, then he pulled out his cell phone and started dialing three numbers, 9-1-1.

I came up from behind Dr. Burke and said, “We’ve been made! It’s time to go,” and grabbed his upper arm. He resisted at first, and just then the cheer from the crowd went up at a good play for J.R.’s team. Dr. Burke yelled, “I love you, son!” with J.R. saying, “Don’t go, Dad.” I pulled and Dr. Burke had to let his son’s hands go. I walked him on the walkway to the exit towards the back of the bleachers; I couldn’t hear anything else with the crowd roaring, but since I had my arm around Dr. Burke, I could feel his sobs when he started crying.

We walked to the bleacher exit, down the ramp and to the back of the right side bleachers, where three girls were standing. They all recognized their father and jumped to hug him and to tell him they loved him, that they knew he was innocent and wasn’t a thief or murderer, and Dr. Burke was crying all through that, too. I was almost in tears myself, seeing this, but I had to make another quick phone call, to Walter.

“Hello! This better be good!” said Walter, who was at the popcorn stand again.

“We’re in trouble; we’ve been spotted; I need you over to the right side of the diamond; the boy’s coach recognized you.”

“Gotcha!” said Walter, and he hung up. He dropped his popcorn, again, and started running to the right bleachers, and while doing so started making a call to Dave, and told him to get there as well.

After a few moments watching the girls and Dr. Burke, I heard him say, “I’m sorry, girls. I’m sorry. Daddy let you down. I’m a bad Daddy,” and the girls still surrounded him and kissed him and told him they loved him. J.R. arrived, and he jumped in the middle, hugging his father, crying at seeing his father in tears. Mindy held back a little bit, but then she joined with her siblings; after she saw all the tears, she couldn't hold hers back, either.

Walter had run around half the bleachers and came up behind the right side; the girls were still crying, and when Walter saw the scene, then he started crying, too, out loud and almost uncontrollably. David ran up soon after this scene started.

“Walter!” I said. “Not now! I need you! Stay with us.”

Walter snapped out of it, saying, “Right!” and got with David, put the wig and mustache and sunglasses back on and headed toward the entrance to the right field bleachers, when he turned around and yelled, “Get out of here!”

With that, I grabbed Dr. Burke and started pulling again, and said to Mindy, “Get J.R. and the two girls and go home, now! The police are coming.”

Mindy seemed to understand, so she grabbed the two youngest by an arm and pulled, and with Beth’s help managed to separate them from their father. I grabbed Dr. Burke around the shoulders, since he was still crying and couldn’t really see what was going on. I turned him around to lead him to the parking lot, and then saw Helen standing nearby with both hands over her mouth; she’d seen the whole thing from a 30-foot distance. Dr. Burke didn’t see anything, and I didn’t say anything but led him out into the parking area, into my car, and got the heck out of there. As we drove away, I heard and saw a helicopter using a spotlight, heading back to the ballpark. Dr. Burke was reduced to a sniveling mess, crying into his hands and repeating his children’s names. This outing was supposed to cheer him up, but at that moment, it didn’t appear to have the desired affect.

Walter and Dave had walked back into the bleachers area, with Walter wearing the sunglasses (at night) and the mustache, looking almost like Dr. Burke had a few moments prior. He went back up to the bleachers where Dr. Burke and I had sat, and remained calm, waiting for the police to arrive, now laughing to himself that they would be sorely disappointed when they discovered they had taken the wrong man. When he saw he police lights of squad cars driving to the ball park in the far distance, he laughed to himself even more, and when they arrived with guns drawn searching for Dr. Burke, he was laughing out loud, as loud as he’d been crying a few minutes earlier. When the FBI helicopter spotlight hit him from above, it almost sent him into hysterics, but when the police surrounded him and David, the helicopter suddenly disappeared.