The Lovely Chocolate Mob (29 page)

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…”

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.”