Chapter 27 #2
The large man with the missing right eye positioned himself right behind Caspian.
He had no weapon, but that almost felt irrelevant.
The other large man stood by the doorway, keeping it open, but he faced Caspian, crossed his arms, and fixed a warning glare.
And finally, Mr. Tibbs sighed as he sat down across from Caspian. The gun remained nestled in his lap.
“We have your wife,” Mr. Tibbs began. “She is safe, for now. But she will not remain so unless you do exactly as we tell you to do.”
“Which is?”
Mr. Tibbs flashed a small. “In front of you is a folder. Please, open it.”
Caspian glanced down, saw the folder, and opened it as instructed. He scanned the pages found, and his eyes widened with recognition.
“And so, the final piece of the puzzle falls into place,” Mr. Tibbs chuckled.
“What you see are legal documents pertaining to the ownership of this estate. Underneath that first document are various transfer documents that, when signed, will transfer a significant portion of your wealth to a new trustee. You will be signing them. Now.”
Caspian scanned the documents, and he growled when he noted the name of the so-called trustee, the one to whom Caspian would be handing over his estate and finances.
“Arabella’s father…” he snarled and snapped up his head. “He did this.”
“Are you surprised?” Mr. Tibbs said.
“He kidnapped his own daughter…” Caspian shook with anger. “He threatened her family, her nephew… He will not get away with this.”
“Your threats mean nothing to me, Your Grace,” Mr. Tibbs said. “I am merely a private contractor, hired for a singular task. That task is to see you sign those documents.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You will live,” Mr. Tibbs said. “That was an instruction we were made to know. But your wife will not, nor will Timothy, once we find him. And so it will be on you to live with the knowledge that you caused their deaths, that you chose your wealth and your home above them.”
Caspian trembled with such fury that the ground beneath him rattled.
It was all too perfect. And the irony was unmissable.
He wondered what might have happened if the same thing had happened to his father, and Caspian and his mother had been kidnapped.
Likely, his father would not have cared, happy to hoard his wealth and hold onto his status because that was his true love.
If I needed any more proof that I am not my father…
Caspian did not care about his wealth. He did not care about his estate. And he certainly did not care about his status amongst his peers. As he looked down at the documents, he realized that the only thing he truly cared about was those he loved.
Arabella, of course. Timothy also mattered more than Caspian could say. Beyond that, he cared for his staff’s well-being. Everyone in his home—they were his family, and there was nothing Caspian would not do to protect them.
When that thought settled, Caspian smiled.
“Something amusing, Your Grace?”
“No, not really…” With a sigh, Caspian picked up the quill and dipped it in ink. He would sign the papers. He would lose everything, while at the same time, nothing of real value would be lost. “I was just thinking about what I might do tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Mr. Tibbs frowned.
“When this is all over with,” Caspian said simply. “Assuming you keep your end of the bargain, and that nobody is hurt. I hope to spend my day with my wife.”
“How touching,” Mr. Tibbs said without emotion. “Now, sign the papers.”
What choice did he have? With his quill dipped in the pot of ink, Caspian braced himself to sign the papers, giving up almost everything he owned. His father would have been furious if he were alive to see it… Somehow, that almost makes this worth it.
Suddenly, something moved past the open doorway.
Caspian snapped his head up just in time to see Timothy poking his head inside. The little boy’s eyes were wide, wild, and as mischievous as ever, and it might have made Caspian smile, did it not fill him with such dread.
“Timothy! Run!”
The boy ducked away, barely dodging past the large man’s massive hands as he tried to snatch him.
“After him!” Mr. Tibbs cried out, and he turned in his chair. “You fool!” He then jumped up, which saw the gun on his lap tumble to the floor, which was the exact moment that the large men lumbered from the room.
And in those few quick seconds, Caspian acted.
With quill in hand, Caspian leaped to his feet, spun about in a wild flurry, and drove the point of the quill into the left eye socket of the scarred man standing over him.
Its tip pierced his good eye; he let forth a roar that shook the room, and he tumbled back, crashing into the wall as he pawed desperately at the quill now sticking from his eyeball.
“No!” Mr. Tibbs cried to no avail.
Caspian dove over the desk, rolled onto the floor, and snatched up the pistol in one movement. A second later, and he was on his feet, the pistol aimed at Mr. Tibbs, who stood frozen; half-turned to run for the door, half reaching for the pistol that was now in Caspian’s hand.
“I have a new proposal for you, Mr. Tibbs,” Caspian snarled as he stared toward the gangly man. “Would you like to hear it?” From behind, Caspian heard the scarred man whimper.
Mr. Tibbs sneered. “You forget, I have your wife, and if you do not do what I say—argh!” His words were cut short when Caspian rammed the butt of the pistol into his nose.
Mr. Tibbs dropped to the floor in a heap, and Caspian stepped over him.
“Stay here,” he said as he strode toward the door. “I will be right back.”
Caspian stepped from the room and closed the door behind him. He might have liked to have secured Mr. Tibbs so that he could not escape, but Timothy was on his mind. And if he knew Timothy as he thought that he did, then he knew exactly where the boy had run to.
Sure enough, Caspian sprinted through the manor and burst onto the third floor. Down the hallway next, and he came to an abrupt halt when he found the large man on his knees, underneath a table in the hallway, pawing at the crawlspace where Timothy was hiding.
“Get back here,” the large man snarled.
Caspian strode down the hallway. He held the pistol like a baton. And by the time the large man realized what was happening, the butt of the pistol was being driven into the large man’s skull with a thwack.
The effect saw the large man’s body turn stiff, followed quickly by a thump as he collapsed onto the floor. Out cold.
“Timothy…” Caspian crouched down and softened his voice. “You can come out now.”
Timothy poked his head out, and to the boy’s credit, he did not look scared. “Did you get them?” he asked.
Caspian laughed. “Almost. Do you have someplace else to hide, Timothy? Somewhere they will not find you?”
Timothy grinned. “I do. Lots of places.”
“Good. Go there. Hide. And do not come out until I call for you. Do you understand?”