Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 03 - The Great Chocolate Scam

by Sally Berneathy

“Great,” Trent said. “I get to talk to your husband again and try to keep him from getting killed.”

  “Maybe not. Kollar may have him too.”

  “Lawson and I will go by his place and pick him up if he’s still there, put him in protective custody and get his permission to search the flour mill, then head out there. You and Fred should go back home.”

  “Excuse me? This was our idea!”

  “Lindsay, this is a police matter. If Kollar is the one who murdered Julia and tried to murder Rick, and if he did grab Rickie, this is going to be dangerous.”

  “Dangerous? You think it wasn’t dangerous when that crazy woman broke into my house and tried to kill me or when Paula’s crazy ex poisoned me? I think I can handle a little danger.”

  “Lindsay, please. Do as I ask just this once. If we do find Rickie, we don’t need civilians around to worry about.”

  “Okay.” I often use that word as a contraction for the much longer phrase, It’s okay if that’s what you want to think, and I’m not going to argue with you, but I’m going to do as I please. I used to worry that people would figure it out after the twentieth or thirtieth time, but they haven’t so far.

  I said good-bye to Trent and put my phone back in my purse.

  Fred grinned. “I can’t believe he still falls for your okay routine.”

  Well, nobody except Fred figured it out. Fred’s psychic and has super powers, so he doesn’t count.

  *~*~*

  In spite of Fred’s driving, we arrived at the flour mill before Trent. Probably because he had to stop by Rick’s house and, maybe, phone in a homicide report when he found Rick’s body. Yeah, I’m a total optimist.

  However, someone was at the mill. An old black minivan sat in the overgrown parking lot. Fred pulled in behind it and we got out. The place felt eerily deserted.

  We started toward the building, crunched through the weeds, probably walking over the graves of several unfortunate souls who got on the wrong side of Bennie the Beautiful.

  The door that had previously hung askew on one hinge now lay in the dirt. Before we even stepped inside, I could smell gunpowder residue. We walked cautiously through the open door. Well, I walked cautiously. Fred strode in as if he had an engraved invitation.

  It had been a mess before, but now even that mess was a mess. The dust, dirt, straw and spider webs had been disturbed as if WWE had held a tag team wrestling match there. The ladder leading up to the loft had several more broken rungs.

  Fred walked over to the wall. “Bullet holes.”

  “New ones? Maybe they were left over from a mob event years ago,” I said hopefully.

  “Yes, new ones. Several of them.”

  I looked around the room. “I don’t see any blood, at least not down here.”

  I went over to the ladder. Several of the breaks were fresh. “Rickie?” I called. “Are you up there?” Are you up there alive? I couldn’t see him through any of the holes in the ceiling, but there were a few solid spots left.

  Fred took my arm. “Don’t even think about going up there. Let’s go outside. We’ll find another way.”

  We went out the door and started around the building. I saw a broken window on the second floor but no way to get up there. However, the ground beneath the window showed signs of someone having been there recently. The weeds were crushed as if someone had jumped from a great height. I stooped to examine the ground closer.

  “Look.” Fred’s voice drew my attention to a mound of dirt and debris several feet closer to the back of the building.

  We walked over and found that the debris was pieces of bones.

  The property directly behind the building had several of those mounds.

  “He was trying to dig a grave for Rickie, but everywhere he dug, he found another body,” Fred said quietly.

  A shot exploded from somewhere in the dense forest of trees and brush.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Was that what I think it was?”

  Fred nodded. “If you think it was a gun shot, then it was what you think.”

  “I guess that’s a good sign. If he’s shooting at Rickie, that surely means he hasn’t killed him yet, right?”

  “Brilliant deduction. I think it came from that direction.”

  We started in the direction Fred pointed, but the sound of a car arriving stopped us.

  “It’s probably Trent,” I said. I hoped it was Trent.

  We hurried back around the building and saw Trent and Lawson getting out of his car. Lawson opened the back door to let two passengers out.

  Rick and Grace.

  Rick was still alive and safe. No point in my buying a lottery ticket with that kind of luck.

  “Lindsay?” Trent looked a little irritated. Okay, a lot irritated. “I thought you were going home.”

  “Eventually I am. Fred found bullet holes inside, and it looks like Rickie escaped. You need our help finding him. There’s a lot of ground to cover out there.”

  “Rickie escaped? He’s okay?” Grace exclaimed, clasping her hands and starting toward me. Lawson restrained her.

  “We’ve got officers coming in to help search. Fred, please take her home.”

  “Okay.”

  Well, bless his little heart. Fred had learned something from me.

  Another shot came from the same direction as the first.

  Grace gasped. Rick flinched and shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “Stay here, Lindsay.” Fred loped off in the direction of the shots.

  I followed. He knew I would. He was just trying to appease Trent.

  “Lindsay!” Trent shouted.

  “Okay!” I called over my shoulder.

  “Damn it, Lindsay! Come back here!”

  If he kept talking like that, we’d never make it to the bedroom. I don’t like being ordered around.

  Fred and I crashed into the dense growth of trees, bushes and weeds.

  “BRYAN KOLLAR,” Lawson’s voice boomed from behind us, magically amplified by their bullhorn. “WE KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE. WE HAVE A SWAT TEAM COMING IN. YOU NEED TO RETURN TO THE BUILDING.”

  I tripped over a rock.

  No, I tripped over a skull.

  “You okay?” Fred asked.

  “Not really. Let’s go.”

  “Watch where you’re stepping.”

  “Actually, I think I’d rather not see where I’m stepping.”

  “BRYAN, PLEASE BRING BACK MY BABY BOY.” Grace’s amplified nasal tones were painful to the ear. “PLEASE DON’T HURT HIM.”

  “Mama!”

  Rickie!

  Fred took a left turn, moving faster on foot than when he drives. I hurried to keep up.

  Someone screamed.

  Ahead I could see Bryan Kollar’s famous butt as he bent forward, clutching his groin and groaning.

  A small figure sprinted away, darting around the trees and bushes.

  “Rickie! Stop!” I called.

  Fred charged toward Kollar, but the man sprinted away. He had apparently recovered from whatever injury Rickie had inflicted on him, and he was in good physical shape. Fred was tall and lanky, a little on the thin side, but, as far as I could tell, made of steel. Kollar was in trouble.

  Crashing sounds came from behind us. Probably the cops. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing them at that point.

  “Rickie!” Grace’s voice, but she was too small to make that much noise thrashing around. Had to be some cops back there too.

  Another shot rang out. I couldn’t tell if it came from in front of us or behind us. Could be Kollar shooting at Rickie or at Fred and me or it could be Trent shooting at Kollar…or Trent shooting at me for ignoring his orders.

  I had no idea who was where or what direction we were headed, but I followed Fred.

  “Rickie! Baby, come to Mama!” Grace was doing a pretty good job of following us.

  Police sirens screamed, moving closer then stopping.

  “BRYAN KOLLAR, THE SWAT TEAM IS HERE, AN
D WE’RE COMING IN AFTER YOU.” Lawson on the bullhorn again.

  A small form darted out of the bushes. A larger form shot out, made a flying tackle and grabbed the kid only a few feet away from us.

  “Give it up, Kollar,” Fred ordered.

  Bryan rolled expertly to his feet with one arm wrapped around Rickie’s neck, the other holding a gun to the boy’s head. Bryan didn’t look so beautiful anymore. Leaves and twigs intertwined among his once perfect locks of hair. His clothes were torn and dirty, and his face and arms were covered in scratches. His eyes were wild.

  “Rickie!” Grace struggled in. One of her heels had broken, but she was still coming, heading straight for her son.

  “I won’t miss from this distance!” Bryan threatened.

  I grabbed Grace around the waist and stopped her progress.

  Fred eased closer to Bryan. Still about ten feet away, too far to land a kick. “You having trouble hitting your target, Bryan? Never shot a gun before? Bennie made it look easy, but it isn’t, is it?”

  Bryan licked his lips, his eyes darting around as if for answers to what had become a no-win situation for him.

  Fred moved a few inches nearer. “You don’t really want to do this, buddy. He’s just a little kid.”

  Fred could take people out with a well-aimed kick. Trent had a nifty gun that took people out from a long ways away. I had an attack cat who was locked in my house twenty miles away. I was at a distinct disadvantage, so I just did my best to hang onto Grace who was a lot stronger than she looked and very determined to get to her son.

  “My baby!” Grace shrieked.

  “He’s a monster!” Bryan flinched as Rickie continued to struggle, kicking against his legs and trying to bite his arm. “This kid is not normal! I left him drugged to the gills, lying on the floor. But I couldn’t find any place to dig a…to dig a place to put him.” He blinked as sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes. “Those people, my father, they put them everywhere!”

  “But you’re not like those people.” A half step closer. “That man’s not really your father. Walter Kollar’s your father. He had nothing to do with all this.”

  Kollar bit his lip and pressed the gun harder against Rickie’s head. The boy continued his efforts to get away. “I gave him enough drugs to take down an elephant, but when I got back inside, he was wide awake. Look at me! Look at what this brat did to me! I’m bleeding and he kicked me in the balls and my clothes are ruined! He’s nothing but a snotty-nosed kid, and I’m Bryan Kollar, but look at what he did to me!”

  “Kollar! Let the boy go!” Trent came up with a gun, a big gun, pointed directly at Bryan Kollar.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” Rick rushed forward. Fred held out an arm to stop him.

  Bryan’s face went even paler and his grip on Rickie slackened, the gun pressed less tightly to his head. “What are you doing here? I killed you!”

  Guess Bryan hadn’t heard the news about Rick’s miraculous return from the dead.

  “This is all your fault!” He turned loose of Rickie and aimed the gun directly at Rick. “If you would’ve sold me back this property, none of this would have happened!”

  Trent’s gun exploded just as Fred launched himself at Bryan.

  For an instant I was afraid Fred might have been shot, but immediately blood blossomed from one of Bryan’s shoulders just as Fred’s heel connected with his chin and the man dropped to the ground.

  Grace broke free of my grip and ran to her son, enfolding him in her arms.

  Trent strode over to Bryan who lay on the ground cursing Rick and Rickie and Marissa and me and the rock under his head and the world in general. Trent yanked him to his feet and clapped handcuffs on him.

  Fred stood to the side. Trent turned to him and smiled. “Where did that come from?”

  Fred shrugged. “I know a little karate.”

  Kollar snarled.

  Grace pulled Rick into a group hug. “You tried to save our son!”

  Rick looked helpless.

  I smiled.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I made it through work the next day in spite of being stressed, scratched from the weeds and brush and generally freaked out. But the people need their chocolate.

  My special that day was Cookie Dough Cheesecake Bars. Yes, I know I’d served it only a few days before, but this one was for me. I needed a special treat.

  I kept my cell phone on the counter, waiting to hear more news about Bryan’s arrest, Rickie’s recovery and Rick’s relatives. I was pleased that none of them showed up at my restaurant. A couple of Cokes, a lot of chocolate, no appearances from Rick’s relatives or his would-be killer, and my stress level was going down measurably. I wasn’t sure Rick would follow through on his promise to Fred to sign the divorce papers since the cops had found him anyway, but even if he didn’t, that situation was no worse than it had been…and maybe he would keep his word for once.

  “Why don’t you take off early?” Paula suggested as the last customer walked out the door and she locked up behind him. “I can clean up.”

  “I took off early yesterday and left you to clean, and I have to say, I’d rather have been here scraping crumbs off dirty plates.”

  She smiled as she picked up the dishes from the last table. “So today you stay here and clean, and I’ll go trip over a few skulls and chase after a murderer.”

  I dipped my cloth in bleach water and wiped the counter. “That sounds like a deal.”

  Finally my cell phone rang…Trent. We’d spoken briefly last night after the big take-down, but only to assure each other we were okay. I thought it probably wasn’t the best time to bring up the subject again of how much I needed a gun, and he was smart enough not to bring up the subject again of how I’d disobeyed his orders and ended up in the middle of a takedown.

  “Hey, big cop, want a cookie?” I said in greeting.

  “Yeah, I do.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe we could grab a burger tonight and talk about those cookies.”

  “Works for me.” I could only hope my newly-incarnated estranged husband wouldn’t show up. “How’s Bryan Kollar? Did he get out on bail yet?”

  “Not yet, and I’m not sure he will. We’ve found over a hundred bodies on the grounds of that flour mill, and even though he claims he had nothing to do with their murders, he knew they were there. He did admit to killing Thomas Akin’s wife, but he’s claiming that was an accident. Says he didn’t know she’d be in that car, and she wouldn’t have been in that car if she wasn’t cheating on her husband, so it’s not his fault.”

  “Ah, the old not my fault defense. He said yesterday it was all Rick’s fault he tried to kill him and Rickie, that Rick could have sold him back the property and avoided the whole mess.”

  “Sad thing is, I think he really believes it. If he’d never met his real father, that gangster, and been influenced by the man’s values, he might have turned out to be a different person.”

  “Did Bennie teach him how to make the bomb he used on Rick’s car?”

  “No, he said he got that off the Internet, and he hadn’t meant for it to be quite so powerful. The directions must have been wrong. Again, not his fault.”

  “I feel sorry for his parents. The ones who raised him, I mean. They seem like nice people.”

  “They’re standing by him, but they’re pretty upset. They want him to own up to what he did and take his punishment. However, he’s hired a team of high powered lawyers and keeps protesting that none of it was his fault. We’ll see what happens. I imagine he’ll be spending at least a few years behind bars. He should have plenty of time in prison to work out and stay in shape.”

  “You caught the bad guy and made the streets of Pleasant Grove a safer place. I’ll have an appropriate reward waiting for you tonight.”

  He laughed softly. “Just seeing you will be enough reward. You know, when I order you to do something, I’m not trying to push you around. I just worry about you. You’re a little
bull-headed about putting yourself in dangerous situations.”

  “I don’t take orders well. Look at it this way. If I made every chocolate recipe the way it’s already been written, I’d be making mediocre chocolate. I look at the directions and decide how I can make it better. That’s what I do when you order me to do something. I think about it, but I make my own decision.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  A wise man. He knew when to give up.

  *~*~*

  Henry met me at the door, purred loudly, gave me a couple of head butts, allowed me to stroke him once, then led me back to the kitchen to show me his empty food bowl. Life was getting back to normal. The only part of that I wasn’t crazy about was the part where I was still legally entangled with Rick. I had called him and, no big surprise, he said he didn’t remember making any deal with Fred about signing any papers.

  I followed Henry to the kitchen and filled his bowl. “No more strange people in the house,” I promised him. He didn’t stop eating, but he did switch his tail as if in acknowledgment and approval. “Trent’s coming over tonight, but you like him.” Another tail switch.

  I pulled out a chair from the table and flopped into it. “However, it’s probably still going to be just you and me tonight. As long as I’m legally bound to that jerk, Trent’s very likely going to stick to his antiquated moral code.” Though I complained about Trent’s outdated belief, I kind of liked it. The idea, that is, not the reality that came along with the idea.

  A knock sounded on my front door, and my heart sank. Had Rick kicked out his relatives and they’d come back to my house?

  Henry lifted his head as if testing the air for…whatever cats test the air for. Scents? Feelings? Auras? He went calmly back to eating, unalarmed, so I felt safe in going to answer my front door.

  Fred, looking quite smug and pleased with himself, stood on my porch with a folder in his hand. “We’re going over to see Rick, and he’s going to make you a very happy woman.”

  “You have anthrax in that folder, and he’s going to sniff some of it?”

  Fred rolled his eyes. “You need to get over that blood-thirsty tendency.”