Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 03 - The Great Chocolate Scam (18 page)

And people say
I’m sarcastic.

“
Get in, hold on and don’t scream. It’s so distracting when people scream while I’m driving.”

Fred did
n’t scream, but he did gasp a few times as we drove across town to an office building in a strip mall in Lee’s Summit, a quiet suburb southeast of Kansas City.

“
Expert Enterprises?” I read the sign printed in black block letters on the window. “What does this company do?”

Fred unfolded himself from the car.
“Expert stuff.” He extended a hand for the car keys.

Darn.
I’d hoped he might forget. His Mercedes, big and bulky as it was, had a surprising amount of pep to it. Fred probably tinkered with the engine. Besides, watching him almost have a heart attack every time I slid around a corner or cut in front of another car with inches to spare was fun.

We entered through the glass door, and a perfectly groomed
brunette woman sitting behind the desk looked up and smiled. “May I help you?”

“
Fred Sommers to see Donato Orsini.”

With all the vowels in the
man’s name and the generic company name, I was suspicious about what kind of place we’d come to. Kansas City used to have a huge mob presence. They didn’t make the headlines much anymore, but I felt sure there were still some of them around.

An inner door burst open and a short, dark man with gray hair and a wide grin stepped out.
“Fred Sommers!” He came over to Fred and the two men embraced. Fred had to lean down about a foot. The man punched Fred’s arm. “Long time no see! Come on in. How you doing? Bring us some coffee, Teresa, and hold my calls. Me and Fred got a lot of catching up to do.”

He led us into his sedate, immaculate office, an office that matched the
man’s dark silk suit but seemed at odds with the rough-hewn man himself. “This your woman?”

“
This is my associate, Lindsey Powell. Lindsay, an old friend, Donato Orsini.”

“
Nice to meet you, Mr. Orsini.” I extended a hand across the desk.

He grasped my hand in both of his.
“Please, I’m Donato. I’m not old enough to be Mr. Orsini. Nice to meet you, Lindsay.” He looked at Fred and winked. “Associate, eh? Whatever you say, buddy.” He winked again and finally released my hand. “Sit, sit.”

We sat in the two client chairs. The place looked like a made-for-TV version of an office. Desk, chairs and file cabinet, all the right furnishings. But the only items on the polished walnut surface of his desk were a telephone, a wooden box and a crystal ashtray. What sort of business was conducted in this room, and what were we doing there?

Donato opened the wooden box, took out a cigar and extended it to Fred.

Fred frowned.
“Donato, haven’t you read the reports on smoking? Are you suicidal?”

I wondered if Fred was suicidal, asking a question like that of the man in front of us.

Donato cracked up laughing. “I forgot how much you hate smoke,” he said, putting his own cigar back into the box. Whatever business the man was in, I couldn’t fault his manners.

He leaned back in his leather desk chair and folded his hands over his comfortably rounded stomach.
“So what have you been up to the last few years? You’re looking good, my man.”

“I’m
retired. How about you?”

Donato waved an arm around the office.
“Retired and got a legitimate business going.”

“
I’ll keep you in mind if I need any experts.” Fred smiled.

Donato chuckled and winked.
“You do that. I got the experts, all right.”

Teresa appeared carrying a tray with three mugs of steaming coffee, all imprinted with the Italian flag and
Italians rule
.

I tried to keep my hand from shaking as I took one of the mugs. I do
n’t drink coffee, but I wasn’t about to refuse that cup.

Was Fred retired from the mob?

Teresa set three coasters on the desk and left.

Fred sipped his coffee.
“Excellent.” He placed his cup squarely on one of the coasters. “I’m not in the market for an expert today, but I could use some information.”

“
Got plenty of that too.”

“
Bryan Kollar. I understand you know him.”

Donato nodded.
“The Kollar kid. He’s done all right for himself.”

“
What can you tell me about him?”

“
Bennie Fanello’s kid.”

“
I thought his parents were teachers,” I blurted then immediately regretted drawing attention to myself.

Donato looked at me.
“The people that adopted him, yeah, they’re teachers. But he’s Bennie’s kid, all right. Looks just like him. Remember, they used to call him Bennie the Beautiful, but only behind his back!”

Fred nodded.
“I remember.”

“
One of Bennie’s bimbos got pregnant and wanted him to leave the missus and marry her. That wasn’t happening, of course, so she gave the baby away. Probably a good thing. The Kollars, they’re good people. The girlfriend, not so much.” He took a sip of his coffee.

I held onto my cup, uncertain if it would be an insult if I set it on his desk untasted, and unwilling to find out.

Donato noticed. “You don’t like the coffee?”

“
She’s a Coke drinker.”

“
Why didn’t you say so? Teresa!” he bellowed. “Go down the street and get Fred’s woman a Coke!”

“
No,” I protested. “I’m fine, really.” I set the cooling cup of coffee on one of the coasters.

“
She’s trying to quit,” Fred said.

Donato shrugged.
“Never mind, Teresa!”

“
About Bryan Kollar?” Fred prompted.

“
Anyway, Bennie didn’t know what happened to the kid. Probably didn’t give it much thought, you know? But then one day one of his people comes in from selling some stuff to the college kids and says he’s seen a boy looks like Bennie. Bennie checked into the records and found out it was his son.”

Checked into the records?
He made it sound so easy, like the easy way Fred did things. My suspicions about Fred’s past grew.

“You’re
not going to believe it,” Donato continued, “but that kid was skin and bones when Bennie found him. He was mixed up with a bunch of losers, experimenting with drugs. Bennie wanted to do the right thing by the boy. He got him off drugs and into body building, and right away—” Donato spread his arms. “Overnight that kid turned into the man you see on television today.”

“
Off drugs?” I asked. “He did all that without steroids?”

Donato shrugged.
“Got him off the bad stuff. That kid was a skeleton. He needed all the help he could get.”

“
Bennie give him the money for his first gym?” Fred asked.

“
Yeah, sure. It was a business deal. Bennie gave him the money, and Kollar gave him a percentage of his business.”

“
Is he still paying?”

“
I guess. I’m not really sure what happened after Bennie died.”

“
What about the Kollars’ sporting goods store?”

“
That was a separate deal. Kollar wanted to do that for his folks, so Bennie made him a personal loan. He paid back every penny with interest.”

“
Was Bryan ever an employee?”

Donato shook his head.
“Nah. He runs his gyms and pays his dues. Bennie didn’t want him to get involved. Didn’t want his wife to know he was helping his son by another woman, either.”

We’d
learned that Bryan did steroids and was in bed with the mob, which was pretty interesting, but it didn’t prove Bryan tried to kill Rick, didn’t give him a motive.

I summoned up my courage.
“Mr. Orsini…Donato…do you know of any reason Bryan Kollar would be unwilling to part with his family’s old flour mill out north of town?” I asked.

Donato scratched his nose and looked at me then at Fred.
“You trust her?”

“
With my life.”

Considering
he’d just ridden with me across town, that was no idle remark.

“
That old flour mill, it hadn’t been used by the Kollar family in over fifty years. The kid sort of leased it to Bennie back in the day. Let him hide a few bodies there.”

“
A few?” I choked on the words.

“
A hundred, two hundred. I don’t think anybody kept track of them on a spreadsheet.” He laughed at his own joke.

“
Call me. Let’s go get some dinner sometime. Don’t be such a stranger,” Donato said as we walked through the front office of Expert Enterprises.

“
I will,” Fred promised.

“
You too, associate.”

“
You bet,” I said.

“
Coke, no coffee.” He winked. “Next time.”

We got in the car, and Fred began his slow crawl across town. Now that I knew how much power that car had, his insistence on observing the speed limit really baffled me. And irritated me. It
wasn’t like he didn’t break the law in plenty of other ways.

“
Were you a member of the mob?” I asked.

He frowned.
“No, of course I wasn’t.”

“
Then how do you know this guy?”

“
I know a lot of people. Comes in handy. Now we have a motive for Kollar wanting to get the flour mill back. He may not have known what Rick wanted to do with the property, but he couldn’t take any chances.”

“
Which gives him a motive for killing Rick when Rick refused to sell it to him. It also gives him a reason to want Rickie out of the way especially now that he knows about the plans for a shopping center. As long as Marissa inherited, he could get the property back, but Grace was going to hang onto everything for her son. So now Rickie’s missing, and Bryan couldn’t be found for the line-up. That does look pretty suspicious.”

Fred nodded. His expression was grim. Fred does
n’t often do grim. When he does, I know things have become serious. “There’s probably no chance the boy’s still alive,” he said, “but on the slim chance he is, we need to find Kollar as soon as we can.”

I swallowed around the huge lump that suddenly rose in my throat.
“You’re right. Just taking Rickie wouldn’t accomplish anything. He needs to get rid of him. You think he killed him?” My last words came out barely above a whisper. I couldn’t stand the awful child, but I couldn’t stand to think of him being murdered either.

“
Probably. We won’t know until we find Kollar.”

“
The cops already looked for him to get him in the line-up. I wonder if they checked the old flour mill.”

“
Did you say anything to Trent about that deal?”

“
No, I don’t think so. There’s been so much else to talk about…Marissa and the boys, Rickie, Rick’s reincarnation.”

“
Then there’s no reason they would go out there. The place was never in Bryan’s name.” Fred made an abrupt turn. Well, abrupt for him. For me it would have been a lazy amble around the corner. “Since it’s been a body dump site before, it would be the logical place for him to hide a body. You might want to call Trent and give him a heads up.”

I took my cell phone out of my purse and hit speed dial for
Trent’s cell. To my amazement, he actually answered.

“
Where are you?” I asked.

“
At the courthouse trying to convince a judge to sign off on a search warrant for Bryan Kollar’s condo.” He sighed. “Everybody agrees it’s significant that we can’t find the guy right after Rickie disappears and the news hits all the local television stations that Rick’s still alive, but nobody seems to think it’s enough to justify a search warrant.”

“
The news is out that Rick’s still alive? When did that happen?”

“
Shortly after we pulled him out of hiding today to question him about Rickie’s disappearance. We don’t seem to have any secrets from the media.”

I turned to Fred.
“Bryan may know that Rick’s still alive.”

“
Which means Rick may not be alive much longer.”

“
Who are you talking to?” Trent asked.

“I’m
talking to Fred.” I told Trent our theory about Bryan’s possible involvement in Rickie’s kidnapping and the attempt on Rick’s life. “We’re on our way to the old Kollar Flour Mill out north. When you were trying to find him for the line-up, did you check there?”

“
No, we had no reason to. We went to his condo, but he didn’t answer, then we went to all seven of his gyms. Everybody said they hadn’t seen him today, but everybody lies.”

I could
n’t argue with that since I’d done my share of lying lately. But always in a good cause.

“
If he’s the one who took Rickie, we think he might go out to the flour mill because…”

I looked at Fred. He did
n’t move his eyes from the road, but he shook his head firmly. Yeah, we didn’t want to be squealing on the mob.

“
Because why?” Trent asked.

“
Because…that’s the only place you haven’t looked. Just trust me on this one, okay? And you don’t need a search warrant to go there because Rick owns it and can give you permission. If he’s still alive.”

I ca
n’t say I felt happy and excited at the thought that I had another chance at getting rid of Rick. But I can’t say I didn’t either.

“
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.