Free Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 03 - The Great Chocolate Scam by Sally Berneathy Page B

prattle about Rick deserting her and his son was just BS?”
    “ I said there’s no evidence that Rickie is Rick’s son. I didn’t say there was any evidence he isn’t. Grace could have put unknown father on the birth certificate so she’d be eligible for government assistance for the boy. She’s getting a check for him every month. That would be a scam Rick would come up with.”
    I sighed. “Yes, it’s exactly something he would come up with. Find any evidence they were married or living together?”
    “ No marriage certificate on file. You were Rick’s only wife.”
    “ Damn.”
    He turned onto Rick’s street, and I cringed, looking around for bits and pieces of Rick even though I knew the cops had taken away all the evidence of the explosion. Still, it was creepy.
    “ By the way, Grace Ganyon isn’t her real name,” Fred said.
    “ What a surprise. What is it?”
    “ Gail Haskell.”
    I shook my head as we pulled into the driveway. “What about Marissa?”
    “ Mary Kramer.”
    “ And the boys?”
    “ Daniel Ray Kramer and Michael Lee Kramer.”
    “ Which is which?”
    “ Who knows?” Fred set the parking brake.
    “I’m afraid to ask what Rick’s real name is.”
    “It’s actually Richard Wayne Kramer.”
    “ Astonishing. That’s the first thing I know of that Rick didn’t lie about.”
    I shuddered as I got out of the car. I did n’t see any pieces of Rick’s SUV or of Rick, but the driveway was scorched black from the explosion. Just a few days ago Rick and some unknown woman had pulled out of the garage to the very spot where Fred’s car was parked. They were going somewhere, preparing to move on with their lives. Maybe Rick was even thinking about me when the blast hit, considering the fact that he was on his way to sign our divorce papers.
    Nah. He was probably thinking about the woman who got blown to bits or maybe about whatever he was planning to do with the property he bought from Bryan Kollar’s parents.
    Fred and I walked across the porch and up to the ornate front door, oak with beveled glass panes. I remembered when Rick and I were building the house and picked out that door. Well, actually, he picked it out and I said okay.
    Fred bent over the lock, did some magic, and the door opened.
    We entered and Fred locked the door behind us.
    The house had a faintly chemical odor, probably from something the cops did. I looked around at the room and the furniture that had once been familiar.
    No wonder Trent never complained about my relaxed style of housekeeping. Cops were slobs. Fingerprint powder dusted most of the furniture, and they’d left footprints on the champagne beige carpet. In the kitchen was more of the fingerprint powder, open drawers with the contents spilling out, dishes on the counter. Pigs.
    “ You search down here, and I’ll take the bedrooms upstairs.” Fred turned and started to leave.
    “ Wait! What am I looking for?”
    “ CDs, an external hard drive, a flash drive, a memory stick.” I must have looked blank because he continued, “If you don’t know what something is, set it out for me to look at.”
    “ Got it.”
    I was glad I did n’t have to go through the bedrooms. That would bring up some really unpleasant memories. Just being in the house was bad enough. It stole the sense of security and comfort I’d wrapped around myself the last couple of years and made me feel alone and unsure, the way I’d felt when I was married to Rickhead and we’d lived in the house.
    When we’d moved in, I’d been excited about the large, spacious kitchen, a place to create my chocolate desserts. However, I’d opened Death by Chocolate shortly afterward so I really never did much cooking in the kitchen. I wondered briefly if Muffy or Becky or any of the others had used my former kitchen. They used my former husband so why shouldn’t they use my former kitchen? Kind of a package deal.
    I set about snooping through all the drawers and cabinets.
    Half an hour