Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Titus drove through the town center filled with quaint shops, galleries, cafes and restaurants. It was still early enough that shopkeepers were turning on lights and opening doors. A few people were walking about or eating at one of the cafes that dotted the main street.
Emelia’s parents lived about six miles outside town. As he drove on a deserted two-lane highway, the scenery changed from close-together houses to farms and open fields.
He turned left at the small Lakes Road Market, following signs to the Iron Forge Inn, then straight until he arrived at Lakes Road. Fallen leaves of brown, red, and yellow covered the edge of the road and danced and twirled in the wind, creating mini whirlwinds. Titus imagined that in leaf-peeping season, this street was popular.
Once he surveyed the map in his room, he realized this immediate area boasted a sports complex, a winery, a correctional facility and multiple farms selling livestock or vegetables.
The Wells house was on a quiet road, with few houses on the street, although he saw a couple of horse farms and envisioned Emelia and her siblings riding horses. The overall effect was peaceful.
When he was little, Titus imagined himself living in the country surrounded by trees with great hiding places, having bonfires, swimming in a pond, chasing his brothers through the woods, and catching fireflies.
The reality was that he was constantly fighting and chasing bullies, hiding liquor from his mother, avoiding the police, and playing basketball on an uneven cement pad with no netting in the hoop. Ah, good times—not.
Bah. No sense wishing for what he could have had if he hadn’t come from a dysfunctional family. He was here for his future with Emelia.
Titus glanced at the numbers on the mailboxes. Almost there. Titus spotted the white farmhouse with a wide front porch as he turned a corner. It was a welcoming house surrounded by trees and bushes.
A red truck and an SUV were in the driveway, with a red barn set back from the house. Titus parked and got out of the car.
Two horses stared curiously at him. A rooster crowed from inside the barn.
The tranquility of the farm was disrupted by movement behind him. Titus reached for his weapon, which, thankfully, wasn’t there. When he turned, a huge dog jumped up and enthusiastically licked his face.
“Jocko, down,” a woman’s voice yelled from the house. She came running out and grabbed the beast’s collar.
“I’m so sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting company,” said the woman Titus assumed was Emelia’s mother, bearing a striking resemblance to her daughter. Emelia had her eyes and hair color. “Jocko loves people, but sometimes he gets too excited.”
“Humph,” replied Titus as he wiped the slobber from his cheek. “I’ve got to give him an A for effort.” He smiled. At least Titus hoped it was a smile and not a grimace.
Jocko was a Rhodesian ridgeback. Titus knew that factoid because a friend in the service had one. He was a gorgeous reddish-brown with a ridge of hair growing in reverse behind his head. A ridge that stood straight up when the dog was in protection mode, which thankfully he wasn’t in right now.
“Oh dear,” said Emelia’s mother as she frowned and produced a tissue. “Maybe this will help.”
Titus took the tissue but thought a hand towel would’ve been a better choice. “Mrs. Wells, my name is Titus Finch. I called earlier and spoke with your husband.”
Concern flickered in her eyes as she glanced at the barn. “Is there a problem?”
Crap. Titus didn’t want to get into the problem outside. He understood Mrs. Wells being cautious. “Is Mr. Wells around?”
“Yes.” She frowned, looked at the barn, and pulled out a cell phone. “I’ll call him. He’s bringing hay in for the horses and won’t hear if I just yell.”
A few minutes later, Emelia’s father emerged from the barn, wiping his hands on his pants. He looked like the epitome of a gentleman farmer with his green waxed jacket, khakis and barn boots.
Streaks of gray ran through his hair, made him distinguished-looking. He sported a circle beard, a straight nose and a strong chin. Emelia had his chin.
Titus knew he’d been a lawyer before retiring. In fact, both of Emelia’s siblings were lawyers, as was her mother.
He wondered if they ever felt disappointed that she hadn’t followed the family tradition, but according to Emelia, her parents were thrilled she was happy, and that was all that mattered to them.
Mr. Wells got closer and frowned. “Hi there. I’m assuming you’re Titus?”
Titus nodded.
“What’s this about?” Distrust laced his voice.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wells, I’m a friend.” He hesitated. Titus put out his hand to shake, and Mr. Wells hesitated a second before good manners set in and he removed his gloves to shake hands.
Were her parents open to hearing about a relationship? He’d wait before going into detail about that. “Actually, a close friend. I’d like to talk to you about her.”
Two sets of frightened eyes stared at him. The air grew heavy with concern and fear. “Is Emelia all right?” asked Mr. Wells.
“Yes,” he replied, moving slightly away from Jocko. “Is there somewhere we can talk?” Being outdoors was pleasant. However, this was a serious conversation, and it was hard to concentrate with good ol’ Jocko sniffing his crotch.
“Oh! Of course,” exclaimed Emelia’s mother. “Come in the house.” She stopped and grabbed Jocko’s collar. “Stop that, you naughty boy,” she admonished the dog, who didn’t look contrite at all.
Titus followed them onto a flagstone patio with wooden furniture artfully arranged around it and a huge firepit. The patio overlooked what would be flourishing gardens in the spring, but the plants were now brown and wilted. Although here and there were pops of greenery, and some resilient plants displayed orange and yellow hues.
He noticed a large orchard and pond further back. It was a beautiful property, and Titus knew it had to cost a pretty penny to maintain.
They entered through the back door into a mud room, where Mr. Wells removed his boots, and then into the kitchen with white cabinets and a large black farmhouse sink. Open shelves exhibited jars of deep red cherries, vibrant yellow peaches, green pickles, and who knew what else? It was a comfortable and inviting room. He followed them into a great room filled with bookshelves and family photographs. The walls were painted a restful gray, and the furniture was covered in white fabric. Titus wondered how they kept it clean with the dog around. But that wasn’t his problem.
“Can I get you coffee or water?” asked Emelia’s mother, who stood in the kitchen.
“Coffee would be fine, if it’s not a problem.”
“No problem. Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Titus sat in one chair. Mr. Wells sat on the sofa. “Are you from Haywood Lake also?” he asked.
“Yes. I own a gym there.” They discussed the gym and light subjects until Mrs. Wells returned with coffee, cream, sugar and some kind of fruit bread. She passed him a cup, then gave one to her husband before she sat down with her own cup.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wells, I…”
“Please, call me Sterling. My wife’s name is Cora.”
That made things easier for sure. “Sterling.” Titus nodded in his direction. “And Cora. As you know, Emelia has opened a bakery in Haywood Lake.”
They nodded.
“She’s been having some problems. Someone has been harassing her, she received some strange threatening notes, items were stolen, and the other day, her windows were spray-painted.”
Cora covered her mouth.
Sterling frowned. “Do you know who’s doing this? Have the police gotten involved? Is Emelia all right?”
“Emelia is safe. We don’t know who is targeting Emelia. The police got involved and checked security cameras around her bakery but couldn’t identify anyone.” He explained about placing the security cameras.
“Why are you here today? It must be more than that.” Sterling replied. He clenched his fists but kept them on his lap.
Titus rubbed his brow. “There is.”
He took a moment to collect his thoughts. “The other day, Emelia gave an interview to an online food blogger. Everything was going well until the interviewer started accusing her of stiffing Wyatt Young and asked how she would respond to the critics who claimed her food was bad.”
Silence.
Cora looked shell-shocked. Sterling suddenly stood. “I’m going to kill that sonofabitch,” he spat. “Wyatt’s been a mooch and liar ever since we’ve known him. We didn’t say much to Emelia because she liked him, but we could tell he was just stringing her along.” He sat down, and Cora rubbed his arm.
“Oh dear,” huffed Cora. “Emelia must be heartbroken.”
“She isn’t happy, but I’m so in awe of her ability to process bad things and then pull herself together to face the problem. She’s a strong woman.”
Cora and Sterling nodded.
“Emelia is too trusting, but you’re right; she’s a strong woman who doesn’t back down. But Wyatt’s betrayal hurt her more than anything,” said Cora.
“Her bakery here meant the world to Emelia. She worked hard to make it successful, and we were thrilled for her. It was her happy place,” said Sterling. “I know she’s even happier with her new place.” He glared at Titus. “What’s your role in all this?”
Titus took a minute before answering. “As I said, I own a gym close to the bakery, but I also work for a security company. We installed the security cameras in the bakery.” He ran his fingers through his hair. Could he tell them what was in his heart? Would they object? He hoped not, although it wouldn’t matter. Emelia was his to love. “I’m in love with your daughter…”
Cora covered her mouth again. Sterling stared and cocked his head.
“Correction. We’re in love. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep her safe.”
Cora and Sterling exchanged a look. Titus didn’t have to work hard to decipher it. It was evident that they were pleased for Emelia, and they seemed to like him.
“I need to talk to Wyatt. Do you know where he is now?”
“Yes. He owns a bakery in Poughkeepsie, about an hour from here,” said Sterling.
Titus settled back in the chair. “I’ll drive up today and talk to him.”
Sterling stood, fists clenched. “I’m coming with you. I want to beat the crap out of him.”
“Sir, I appreciate the offer, but I need to do this alone.” Titus rubbed his hands on his pants. “I’m just going to talk to Wyatt and find out what’s going on. We don’t even know it’s him.”
Cora reached over and touched her husband’s arm. “Sterling, let Titus handle it. He’s had more experience in this field.”
Sterling sat down, anger clearly waging a war in his mind. Titus needed to have him calm down and not go half-cocked into an area where lawyers, even ex-lawyers, shouldn’t go. By the time he was done with Wyatt, Titus was sure Emelia would never hear his name mentioned again.