The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,87

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