Aidan, in the meantime, had an idea of his own. “I’m going around back in case somebody tries to slip out. If you hear anything weird coming from back there, you go in the front and find Terry. I’d stay away from Titus if I were you.”
It was a wise assessment on Aidan’s part. At that moment Titus was looming over Colby Chancellor with a barely controlled fury in his eyes.
“What…how the hell did you get in here, that door was locked,” the older man sputtered. His face was pasty and sweat was springing out all over it. “Who are you people and what do you want with me? I’ll call the police if you don’t get out of here now,” he said loudly.
Titus’s gave the cowering man another grimace that could have been loosely interpreted as a smile. His eyes silvered over as he introduced himself.
“I do apologize for our impromptu entry,” he said suavely, although his eyes betrayed his rage. “My name is Titus Argonne and this is my associate, Terry Patterson. We came here to look for my fiancée, Paris Deveraux and I happen to know that this was the last place she was seen yesterday. Where is she?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you’re talking about. I…can’t say I’ve met the young lady. From Atlanta, you say? No, I don’t think so, I have lots of appointments, I see lots of people, and I, uh, don’t recall anyone by that name,” he said weakly, mopping his face with a large handkerchief.
“Is that right? Then how did you know she came from Atlanta? I didn’t mention where she was from, did I, Terry?”
Terry looked from the cowering older man to his boss, who was vibrating with fury. The physical resemblance between the two men was obvious but that’s all it was, a similarity of coloring and features. “No, Titus, you sure didn’t mention Atlanta. I wonder how he knows that’s where Paris is from?”
“And how did my fiancée’s car end up parked across the street from this building, the building where she had an appointment with you? Can you explain that to me, or would you rather was for the police so you won’t have to tell your lies twice?” Titus’s harsh voice resonated in the office.
Incredibly, Colby Chancellor didn’t seem to realize the extent of his peril and actually attempted to reach for his desk drawer, whether it was to get a weapon or some sort of medication wasn’t clear because Titus had enough of the man. Without warning he reached across the desk and grabbed the older man by the throat, yanking him across the mahogany surface.
“Do not,” Titus said in cold measured tones, “mistake my calmness for patience because I don’t have any.” He pulled a gun out of his shoulder holster and pressed it against the man’s temple. Drops of sweat rolled down Chancellor’s face and touched the barrel of the lethal-looking weapon. “If you’ve been a big enough fool to do something to my woman you’re going to be your own customer in about two minutes so you need to think twice before you tell me another lie. Where is she?” Titus ground out.
The actual order of the next events was somewhat confusing because several things happened at once. There was a deafening crash from another room, coupled with a scream and then the unmistakable sound of Kasey’s barking. Titus kept his hand tightly around the man’s throat as his dragged him in the direction of the disturbance, which seemed to be coming from the showroom where the coffins were displayed. A most unlikely sight greeted Titus; there was Paris, trying to extricate herself from a smashed coffin. It had fallen off its stand and the impact made the top of it shatter, surprising for something that was supposed to be fine cabinetry. Twyla was standing there with her mouth open and Kasey was rocketing to Paris, barking his joy at seeing his mistress.
Titus threw Chancellor at Terry and said, “If his ass moves, shoot him.”
Terry grinned and replied, “No problem, boss.”
While Paris was trying to pull the last of the duct tape off her mouth, Titus grabbed her and held her as tight as he could, breathing her name over and over. He could barely stand to let he go but he had to set her away from him to make sure she was all right. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were rumpled and she was covered with chips of fiberboard from the crappy coffin, but she never looked lovelier than she did right now.
“Woman, when I get you home I’m putting a tether on you. Paris, you have no idea what you did to me, running off like this. You’ve taken years off my life, baby.” He pulled her back into his arms for another long embrace, kissing her face and neck while she returned his hugs.
“Titus, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can explain, I really can. And I’ll never do anything like this again, I swear. But right now I need to do something, is there a ladies room around this dump?” she asked plaintively.
Titus kept his arm around her as he led her out of the showroom. She looked wan and weak until they were abreast of Colby Chancellor who was still being held in a viselike grip by Terry. Paris suddenly stopped her weary walk and turned on their captive, calling him a name Titus had no idea she knew. She drew back and knocked the man smooth out with a tight right hook. As he slid to the floor she kicked him several times, still using language culled straight from the docks of New Orleans. She had grabbed Terry’s gun and drawn a bead on the semiconscious man.
“You rotten old goat, you picked the wrong woman to mess with,” she spat and was about to blow a hole in him when Titus plucked the gun from her fingers.
“Rosy, baby, calm down! The police are on the way here to arrest him. They’ll take care of him, baby. You come with me and let me make sure you’re all right,” he said soothingly.
Twyla and Aidan were trying not to laugh at the scene but unfortunately, they failed miserably. They were all but rolling on the floor and Kasey wasn’t helping matters by racing around barking and trying to bite Chancellor’s feet. Paris wasn’t allowing Titus to soothe her, however.
“I’m not calming down, you can cram that crap,” she said angrily. “That joker took my engagement ring! He’d better give it back or I’ma stomp the life out of him. I’ll bet he steals everybody’s jewelry that comes through here, the miserable thief. And,” she added indignantly, “he took my good shoes, too. If I don’t get those Manolo Blahniks back I’m going to tear this place down,” she raged.
Titus was by now trying to hide a grin as he led her back into the office where her ordeal had begun.
“I come here for some simple information and that fool has to try to go Edgar Allen Poe on me. I think that dummy was going to try to bury me,” she sputtered indignantly.
The police burst in at that point and all was chaos for a few minutes. Finally Paris had availed herself of the ladies room with Twyla’s help and now she was sitting in the office with a police blanket around her shoulders and Titus standing next to her, stroking her hair. She was answering the detective’s questions as concisely as possible, but given the sheer rage that dominated her emotions right now it was impossible for her to stem the editorial comments.
“That has to be the dumbest man on the face of the earth,” she said, her disgust evident in her voice. “He doped up my drink and I passed out. When I came to he had me tied up and gagged, ghetto style. There was duct tape on my mouth and he tied my hands together in front of me with some cheap twine. Any fool knows you don’t tie somebody’s hand in front, unless you want them to get loose. I grew up with four brothers in Louisiana, if I couldn’t get out of that lame mess I needed to suffocate, which apparently was his intention.” She looked at Chancellor like she wanted nothing better than to pound the life out of him with her bare hands.
“I admit I was terrified at first,” she said, looking at Titus for the comfort of seeing his loving face. “I’m very claustrophobic. But when it started getting light outside I could tell because of the raggedy coffin he put me in. I could actually see daylight coming through the cracks! Those things are incredibly shoddy,” she added. “For some reason it pissed me off that her would put me in a crappy piece of junk coffin and then I remembered I had gravity on my side. What’s the point of being a thick sister if you can’t work it, right?
So I started rocking back and forth to see if I could make the thing move. After I did it a few times the piece of junk rolled right off the stand it was on and broke wide open. And the rest is history. Like I said before, that’s a real big dummy over there.” She glared at Chancellor again and refused the offer of a glass of water with a look of horror. “I’m not drinking anything in this joint. Can we leave, please?”
The detective, a lieutenant named Hunter, was having a hard time keeping a straight face. “In just a few minutes, Miss Deveraux.” He turned to Titus, who was stoically silent. “From what we can gather, Mr. Argonne, the story Colby Chancellor told your fiancée is true. It appears that you are the long-lost grandson of Charles Chancellor. He’s on his way here now.” Just then another detective stuck his head in the crowded office and beckoned to his superior. Lieutenant Hunter excused himself and went into the corridor. In minutes he was back, with a sober look on his face. “Mr. Argonne, Mr. Chancellor just arrived,” he said slowly. Titus’s expression didn’t relax, if anything it became more forbidding and stern. The lieutenant repeated himself, adding, “Would you like to meet your grandfather?”
Without hesitation, Titus said, “No.” Just one word, spoken without any inflection but it revealed volumes about the man who uttered it. Without another word he removed the blanket from Paris’s shoulders and replaced it with his arm, leading her out of the office. They walked past a tall, white-haired man with gray eyes and a chin just like Titus’s own. Titus didn’t even look in the man’s direction.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The events in Augusta seemed like a distant memory to Paris now. They had spent a long weekend on St. Simons to rest and recuperate and now they were moving into their new home. They were taking a break from unpacking, sitting in the sunny solarium enjoying each other’s company and anticipating their impending marriage. At least one of them was. The other one was deep in turmoil to judge from the look on Titus’s face. Paris was straddling Titus’s lap, facing him. His hands were around her waist while he looked deeply into her eyes. He was getting better, but the strain of the last week was showing. For the first few days after her rescue he couldn’t stand to have her out of his sight. Paris could sense the tension in him and she wanted nothing more than to ease it. She rested her forehead against his and rubbed her hands over his shoulder, squeezing them gently. “How about a massage, baby? You feel so tense,” she said softly.
“I am, a little,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I can do this, Paris. It’s too much for me to take in right now. Maybe if we weren’t trying to plan a wedding I could deal with it better, but right now I’m just not feeling it. I don’t see what the point is, that’s all.”
Paris wrapped her arms around his neck and cradled him to her, trying to ease away his nerves with her love. Ever since the story had come out about Titus’s biological parents, he’d been like this. They now knew of his existence and wanted to meet him and Titus wasn’t convinced it was something he needed to do. His adoptive family assured him they weren’t threatened in any way by the meeting. They were, in fact, encouraging him to meet the people who’d created him. Paris tried to be as supportive and reassuring as possible, but it was difficult to know exactly what to say to him. She gently released him from her loving embrace and pulled away so she could cup his face in her hands and kiss him.
“I love you so much,” she whispered. “All I want is your happiness. If you don’t want to meet them right now, I’ll call them and postpone it for you. Maybe you’re right; maybe it’s too soon. It’s not like you’re on a schedule, sweetheart. You can do this anytime, you know.”
Titus tightened his grasp on Paris and leaned into her comforting warmth. “I love you, Rosy. You are the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Ten days after I’m dead I’ll still be in love with you,” he vowed. “And I don’t want anything to be hanging over us when we start our life together. I want it to be just you and me and nothing else. So thank you for the offer, but I’m going to meet the parents,” he said dryly.
Paris’s heart melted again at his tender words of love. She could see the strain and tension in his face even though to everyone else he looked like his usual calm and collected self. She whispered in his ear that they should go lay down. Yes, there was a sea of boxes everywhere, but Titus’s huge bed was in place and she had a feeling that a little afternoon delight might be just the thing. It would be pleasurable for both of them as well as helping to remove some of the tension from Titus. He smiled his agreement and moved his hands to her butt, palming it and moving his hands in slow circles. He was about to take her up on her offer when the doorbell rang. They both jumped at the sound and stared at each other.
“They can’t be here already,” Paris whispered. She smoothed her hair and looked down at her outfit, which consisted of old jeans and a Paris & Company T-shirt. She didn’t look her best, but they were moving, after all. Titus was similarly attired but he looked good in anything, darn him. Holding tight to each other’s hand, they went to the front door and Titus opened it to a most unexpected sight. A man of Titus’s complexion and nearly his height was standing there with two younger women who looked to be identical twins. The man had a hand on the shoulder of each young woman. He smiled grimly when he saw Titus and Paris standing there.
“These are for you,” he said. “Good luck.”
“Listen to him, good luck,” one of the young women said. The other one clicked her tongue in disgust. “He thinks he’s funny, don’t pay him any attention.”
“He’s just trying to be a comedian,” the first one said. “Yeah, but there’s a problem with that, he’s not funny,” the second one chimed in.
The women were tall and slender and each had close-cropped natural hair the color of Titus’s. Their eyes, which were full of laughter, were gray. They kept right on talking as thought this were an everyday occurrence.
“Nope, he’s about as funny as a toothache, that’s why we were really happy to find out about you,” said one.
“Yes, we have a brother now,” gloated the other one.
The man finally spoke up, sounded more amused than indignant. “So what am I, chopped liver? I’m also your brother, or did you forget that little fact?”
“No, we didn’t forget, we just don’t like you because you’re mean to us,” they said in unison.
Titus and Paris were looking at each other and at the spectacle on their porch. Finally Titus addressed the man. “Do they ever stop talking?”
“Not that we’re aware. Look, I’m Justice Chancellor, your brother,” he said extending his hand to Titus, who shook it warmly without realizing what he was doing. The younger man smiled at the bemused expression on Titus’s face. “These two are your sisters, Jamie and Jodie. I can send their stuff if you want to keep them,” he said hopefully.
“See what I mean,” Jamie said shaking her finger at Justice. “You’re not funny.” The twins ignored Titus’s outstretched hand and each one gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. They also introduced themselves to Paris, since Titus’s ability to speak seemed to have deserted him. Paris gladly returned their hugs; she was thrilled to meet them. She was also the only one who realized they were still on the porch.
“Please come in and make yourselves at home,” she invited. “I’ll get some iced tea for you. Come sit down, it’s a mess, but you’re more than welcome.” She got a puzzled look on her face and asked the question Titus was afraid to voice. “But where are your parents?”
Justice’s face softened into a gentle smile, so much like Titus’s it was eerie. “They’re in the car. Mama was too nervous to get out.”
Titus took Paris’s hand again and they walked to the edge of the porch, descending the stairs together. They approached the late model car parked in the driveway, watching as a tall, sandy-haired man got out, his bluish eyes damp from emotion. It was easy to see where Titus got his looks; the older man had probably looked exactl
y like Titus when he was younger. The two men shook hands solemnly and the handshake became an embrace as father and son connected for the very first time. Titus was smiling as he looked into the eyes of his birth father. “So what do I have to do to meet my mother?”
His father laughed. “She’s too scared to move, son. You’ll have to go get her, I think.”
Titus approached the car and opened the passenger door. He smiled down at the woman inside. “Aren’t you going to say hello? You came all this way to meet me,” he said softly.
A middle-aged woman with green eyes and rich caramel skin got out of the car. Her hair was dark brown and tears were running down her face. Titus put his arms around her and gave her a big hug. “Come on now, I’m not that ugly, am I?” Her only answer was to burst into unchecked tears of joy.
Her loving husband shook his head. “I’ve known this woman for forty-five years and she’s been doing that for every single one of those years. I don’t know where she keeps all that water.” He turned to Paris who was watching the touching scene with tears of her own falling. “You must be the charming and beautiful fiancée I’ve heard so much about. I’m Charles Chancellor,” he said with a smile. Paris didn’t hesitate; she gave him a big hug.
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” she said. “Why don’t we all go inside and get acquainted,” she suggested.
In a short time they were all seated in the solarium, at least everyone but the twins were seated. Jamie and Jodie were exploring the house. They already knew the story and they were, by their own admission, just nosy, they wanted to see their new home. Titus was sandwiched between his mother and Paris on the wicker sofa, while his father and Justice each had a comfortable armchair. Paris had brought out iced tea and a plate of teacakes from Aunt Sisters, although everyone but Justice was much too keyed up to eat. He commandeered the plate and was devouring the cakes with gusto while his father cleared his throat and began telling the story of Titus’s life.
The Closer I Get to You (Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 8) Page 27