***
Titus was getting upset. He didn’t like to admit it, but by now he was so attached to Paris that he actually resented the time they were apart. He couldn’t wait until they were man and wife and they slept in each other’s arms all night, every night, when they shared their lives together and brought forth some healthy babies into the world. He couldn’t wait until the wedding and he didn’t see why it had to be in December. As far as he was concerned they could get it done that night and he’d be perfectly happy. But he knew that Paris wanted a big fun wedding and he wanted her to be happy, so that was it. He was getting ready to leave the office and he called Paris again. He’d been trying to get her on her cell phone all afternoon, as well as calling her office and her home. They were supposed to go furniture shopping tonight and he couldn’t understand where she’d gotten to. He decided to go to her place and wait. Besides, he could take Kasey out for a jog. He and Kasey were great pals, even though the dog was costing him a small fortune in replacement shoes.
Walking out of the office he tried again to get Paris on the phone. Woman, where are you?
***
“I’m Colby Chancellor, so nice to meet you,” the older man said. He offered Paris a seat in his private office and her choice of beverage.
“I’d love some iced tea if you have it,” she said with a smile. “Forgive me for staring at you,” she said with a charming smile, “but you resemble my fiancé so closely it’s remarkable. I have a picture if you’d like to see it,” she offered.
“Let me get your tea, my dear, and I’ll do that.” He left the room, leaving Paris to gaze around. She saw a picture on the wall that had to be a family portrait and went to examine it closer, which is what she was doing when Chancellor returned to the room with a glass of iced tea on a small china plate. He put the glass and the plate down on the corner of the desk and joined Paris at the portrait.
“Forgive my nosiness,” she said disarmingly, “but the resemblance is remarkable. Who is the older man?” she asked.
“That’s my uncle, Charles Chancellor. His father founded Chancellor Mortuary and was quite successful with it. We also have an insurance company and a real estate company. We have several branches of the real estate company and the mortuary.”
By now Paris had taken her seat again and took a long swallow of her iced tea. It was strong and sweet, very tasty but with a slightly bitter edge. She reached into her purse for the picture of Titus she carried with her at all times and passed it to Chancellor who looked stunned to see it. He sat down at the desk rather heavily and stared at the picture. Paris wondered at his reaction and prodded him a little. “Don’t you see the resemblance?” She drank some more tea and blinked her eyes; it was getting stuffy in the office.
The look on Colby Chancellor’s face was distinctly odd and furtive, something Paris didn’t notice. He took a minute to answer her, but finally began speaking in low voice that was almost a monotone. “Yes, Miss Deveraux, I do see a resemblance. He looks exactly like my cousin, Charles, Jr. Charles moved away from here years ago after he disgraced the family.”
Paris was trying hard to follow the older man’s words, but it was so hot and stuffy everything sounded like a singsong, almost like an irritating buzz. She took another swallow of the iced tea as he continued to drone. She set the glass down on the desk and watched through bleary eyes as he rose from the desk and began to move around the office. She wanted to tell him to sit down, he was making her dizzy, but she was too polite. He kept on talking as though he had to unburden himself or something.
“Charles got a girl pregnant, you see, and he refused to do the right thing.”
“He refused to marry her?” Paris mumbled.
Chancellor’s voice rose and he said, “No, he refused to do the right thing. The right thing would have been to get the little bastard aborted. We are Chancellors; we don’t have little insignificant bastard children running around underfoot. Charles wouldn’t have anything to do with it, he defied his father completely. So Uncle Charles had to take care of things and then he turned his son out of the house. You see, we are people of class and character, as well as money. These mortuaries, the real estate, the insurance agencies, all of them belong to my uncle and since he disowned his son, he no longer has an heir, other than me,” he said with an ominous smirk.
“Uncle Charles is getting weak in his old age. He regrets what he did to his son and he wishes he had it all to do over again. So I know that is his long-lost bastard grandchild shows up here on his doorstep, he’s going to change his will. But that’s not going to happen because I’ve worked too hard for too long to lose everything to a bastard stranger. You’re just too smart for your own good, Miss Deveraux. You were right, you dug up just enough information to let you know your fiancé is related to us, but you should have kept your nose out of it. You should have kept your big butt in Georgia and everything would have been all right,” he said with a strained, high-pitched laugh.
I know he just didn’t say my butt is big, thought Paris. She wanted to call him a crazy old loon, and tell him that no power on earth could make her keep her mouth shut, but for some reason she couldn’t talk. She looked at the glass of iced tea and suddenly understood what was happening to her. Her head rolled forward and her body slid out of the chair on which she’d been sitting. Everything went black as she lost all consciousness.
***
Titus went from being perplexed to panicky as the day began to wane. Paris was nowhere to be found and he knew that something was wrong. She wasn’t answering her cell phone, she’d left no note with any kind of explanation, and she hadn’t shared with him any plans to do anything except furniture shopping with him. Something was wrong and he knew it in his gut. The sooner a problem was recognized, the sooner it was solved. The police department wouldn’t act on a missing person report until twenty-four hours had passed, but Titus wasn’t about to waste that kind of time. He had to figure out who the last person was to see her at the complex and try to reconstruct her day. Then the hunt could begin.
He was still at her house where he had remained after walking Kasey. He picked up the small dog and put him under one arm, gathering his lead and a scarf that Paris often wore.
“Come on pooch, we’re going to get your mama,” he told the happily panting dog. He put Kasey in the car and he immediately began trying to sniff every inch of the car. Titus gave a sharp whistle and told Kasey to sit, and he did immediately, plopping into the passenger seat. Reaching over him between the ears, Titus stared straight ahead and asked “Where is she, Kasey? Where can she be?” Kasey whined softly, as if to say he didn’t know.
By the time he reached his office, Titus had put in calls to four of his best operatives. Three of them were already on their way. The only one he hadn’t heard from was Terry Patterson. He’d also called Twyla, Aidan and Jamaal and they were also meeting him at the complex. Kasey was on his lead, scampering importantly ahead of Titus as they entered the building. A man of Titus’s size would have looked more appropriate with a large dog, a bull mastiff or something, but right now he could have cared less about appearances. He’d barely reached his offices when Twyla walked up with Aidan, both of them looking somber and concerned. Titus picked up Kasey and handed him to Twyla, who took him gladly, although she added a cautionary statement.
“I’m not Paris, you can’t be kissing me in the face, hear?” While Kasey gave her several big wet ones on the chin, Titus turned to Aidan.
“Paris is missing. I’ve been trying to get her on her cell phone all afternoon and she doesn’t answer. She hasn’t been home and she didn’t make any arrangements for Kasey’s care, so I know she intended to come home this evening. Besides, she and I were going furniture shopping and those plans were never changed. I’m convinced something has happened to her and I need to retrace her steps today. Where was she and what was she doing most of the day?”
Titus took a seat at his desk, looking intently at Aidan. He was wearing
a blue dress shirt and his eyes normal color would have matched it. Right now, though, his eyes were a dark and stormy gray. Aidan dropped into a chair across from Titus’s desk and tried to remember the last time he’d seen Paris. “She was working on a project with Ellen, one of our research staff. I heard her thanking Ellen and telling her how much she appreciated the information.” Without waiting for a directive from Titus he said he would call Ellen and find out what they’d been working on. As Aidan left the office to go back to the studio, Twyla said she’d look through Paris’s planner.
“She keeps everything in her tablet, but she had one tank on her and she really doesn’t trust them. She has everything written in a planner, too, as well as keeping a schedule on her computer, but I don’t know her password. She usually keeps the planner with her, but let’s see if she left it in her desk. I’ll be right back,” she said as she turned to leave with Kasey.
Titus could hear her warning the little dog to behave. “I don’t love you like she does, so if you pee on anything I’ll spank that hairy little bottom of yours. And that goes double for poop, hear me?”
Just then Terry Paterson strolled into the office and asked what was going on. Titus tersely informed him that Paris was missing and he needed Terry’s help. Terry’s eyebrows were much lighter than his dark curly hair and he often looked surprised when he wasn’t. This time, though, his blonde brows climbed to his hairline when Titus made his announcement. He stared blankly at Titus for a moment before saying “I thought she was going to Savannah.” His words had the echoing effect of a single stone being dropped into the bottom of a tin pail.
“Sit down and tell me everything you know, Titus said in a low voice while his eyes frosted over to silver.
***
Paris’s head was splitting open from pain. She didn’t get headaches often, but when she did it seemed like they were making up for lost time. This one was a doozy; she could feel the pounding all over her skull. She tried opening her eyes, slowly, so the bright light didn’t make the pain worse. Odd. It was dark, very dark. She wasn’t on her own bed, that much was certain. Her bed was comfortable and supporting, whatever she was lying on as hard and unyielding. The air was musty and close, which made breathing difficult. She tried to detect a stirring of the air somewhere than would indication air-conditioning or a fan, because it was hot where she was. She could feel a tiny trickle of perspiration near her hairline and her first instinct was to wipe it off. She tried to move her hand and realized both hands were tied together. She jerked them up sharply and they hit against something, which led her to another discovery, a terrifying one. She was in a box of some kind; she couldn’t mover her arms, her legs, or her head. She was trapped. She tried to cry out, and then realized her mouth was taped shut. With a sickening rush of clarity, she knew where she was and why she couldn’t move. She was in a coffin.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The small caravan held a motley-looking crew as it sped along I-20 east to Savannah. The lead SUV held three of Titus’s best agents along with Ellen Smith, the researcher from Paris & Company. It had been decided that she would come along with her laptop in the hope that she could shed more light on the situation. In Titus’s Hummer Terry and Twyla were in the backseat with Kasey. Titus was in the passenger side poring over Paris’s journal. Once Terry explained what he’d been doing for Paris it became clear that she’d taken off to do some investigating of her own. It was Aidan’s idea to read her journal in case there was something of importance in its pages.
“She writes in it every night, sometimes in the morning, too. There’s a chance she might have jotted something in the journal that can help.”
Twyla agreed. “I tried to check her planner, but it wasn’t in her desk, she must have it with her. But there’s probably something in the journal that can help.”
Titus felt an idiot for not thinking of it himself when he was at her house. Wasn’t he supposed to know everything there was to know about Paris, know her better that she knew herself? Yet he ignored something that could prove to be the only thing that could lead them to her. Cursing himself inwardly, he had driven the Hummer to her house in Ansley Park and dashed inside, running up the stairs to her bedroom. He opened her nightstand and sure enough, there was a pear green leather journal inscribed with her initials in a pretty monogram. He snatched it out of the drawer and pounded back down the stairs. He was about to get back into the driver’s seat when Aidan stopped him.
“Even you can’t do two things at once, chief. I’ll drive,” he said, getting behind the wheel.
They’d been on the road for an hour while Titus pored over the pages of her innermost thoughts. This was something he would never have done under any other circumstances, but it couldn’t be helped. He felt his heart stop for a moment when he read an early entry: This was the best day of my life, and the worst. I found out two things today that I’m never going to forget. One is that making love is the most wonderful, most intimate experience two people can share. And the other is, when your heart breaks you can actually feel it. There’s a horrible sharp pain and then a little ‘pop’ that feels like something ruptured. Then there’s a gush of hot agony like someone spilled acid into your bloodstream, and you know you’ll never feel anything again.
A hot acrid taste came into his mouth and he was awash in shame. He’d done that to her, no one else. He had almost destroyed her that night with his selfishness. And yet she was woman enough to give him the one thing he didn’t deserve, another chance. He was so humbled by the notion he could barely focus but he forced himself to concentrate. His eyes fell on another entry, this one dated the weekend of the Oscars.
I never really understood desire before I met Titus. It’s like a hunger that can’t be appeased, like a punishment meted out in Greek mythology where some transgressor is forced to devour something delicious all day and still suffer hunger. He touched me tonight, he put those beautiful hands on me and I was on fire from the very top of my head to the soles of my feet and everything in between. His lips touched mine and I couldn’t remember my own name. All I knew was hunger, the urge to devour, to satisfy the most primal appetite I’ve ever known. I wanted him so badly I would have gone with him anywhere, done anything to have him. But the Three Stooges next door put an end to that; an end to the kiss, but never the desire. I still hunger for him…I will always hunger for him.
He closed the book roughly and stared blankly out the window as Aidan drove with speed and skill to Savannah. Aidan was wise no to let Titus drive because the way he was feeling right now he’d get them all killed. What in the hell have I ever done to deserve her? Who decided I was worthy of a prize like Paris? He brooded in silence for a moment, and then turned back to the book, deciding to stick to the very latest entries.
I can’t even picture the look on his face if he knew what I’m doing. But it’s not about some family reunion; it’s only about getting his medical history. He has a fantastic family already. His parents and his sisters are wonderful and I love them all. Maybe I love them because they love him so much, I don’t know. They’re so crazy about him and that makes me very happy because no one deserves it more than my man. But he also deserves to know who he comes from so we can make a bunch of babies. Big healthy babies, just like him. I can’t wait to be pregnant! I probably won’t turn up anything and if I don’t I’ll let it go. I know it’s a long shot but I’m going to try this once for Titus’s peace of mind.
He couldn’t take anymore. Abruptly he handed the book to Twyla. “Check the last couple of entries, please.”
“Sure. Take your little friend here, he doesn’t seem to understand that I don’t like kissing dogs,” she said as she gladly swapped Kasey for the journal.
Titus was drawing a small measure of comfort from scratching Kasey’s ears when Twyla let out a shout. “She’s not in Savannah, she went to Augusta! Aidan, we need to change directions, she went to Augusta,” she said triumphantly. “Look here, Titus, read this entry, the very
last one.”
This is weird. I was pretty sure he was born in Savannah but there’s this strange connection I need to check out in Augusta. At least I was able to talk to someone who can give me information. His name is Colby Chancellor and I’m going to meet him at six tonight at his place of business. A mortuary, what fun—NOT! Oh well, maybe this will pay off and I can drop the whole thing. I should probably let Titus know what I’m up to. I’ll call him when I get to Augusta.
It was daylight when they pulled into Augusta. They had made a four-hour drive to Savannah, and then had to make a three-hour detour to Augusta. They’d stopped a couple of times so Kasey wouldn’t disgrace himself and they stopped once for breakfast and to plan their strategy. Now it was still very early, but Titus wanted the element of surprise on their side. They drove directly to the mortuary, as Titus wanted to size the place up. They circled the building slowly, looking for something that seemed out of place. Titus found it at once, in the parking lot of the Chancellor Real Estate office across the street. In the parking lot there was a pink Thunderbird that could only belong to one person. There was a luxury car parked on the side of the building, something that indicated the building was occupied. Everyone stared in silence as Aidan parked next to the vehicle. The only sound was of Titus checking his gun.
“Terry, you come with me. We’re going to go in and ask a few questions. I hope he gives us the right answers,” he said with a grim smile.
The two men got out of the Hummer and walked to the front entrance, while his other agents made themselves invisible around the perimeter of the area. Ellen Smith was more than happy to stay in the car and wait until it was all over. The door was locked, but it took Terry all of three seconds to open it. Lock picking was something he’d mastered in his feckless youth and a skill that came in handy quite often. After the two men entered the building, Twyla had a mission of her own. “I have to pee and so does Junior here. As much as Titus dotes on this fur-bearing insect, I doubt he wants puppy pee in his Hummer. We’re going to take a stroll,” she said. Her eyes never left the building and it was evident that she was a mass of nerves.
The Closer I Get to You (Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 8) Page 26