Perfect Partners (17 page)

He called her a nagging woman. Accused her of being a difficult boss. All because she was getting in the way of his carefully planned vengeance.

God only knew what sort of trouble Joel might get into tonight, Letty thought anxiously. He was mad enough and wild enough to do something really stupid.

A police siren howled in the distance. It made Letty realize how rare such sounds were in a small town like Echo Cove. She had gotten used to hearing sirens regularly in Seattle.

Letty gnawed on her lower lip for a moment, thinking hard. She decided she'd better go fish him out of the Anchor and bring him back to the motel before he ruined the corporate image. After all, she had her duty as president of the company.

Who the hell was she trying to kid? Letty asked herself grimly as she pulled on slacks and a sweater and slid her feet into her loafers. She was not going off to pull Joel out of some tavern because of the Thornquist Gear corporate image. She was going to find him and bring him back before he got himself into serious trouble. She was worried about him.

Letty slung her purse over her shoulder and went out the door. Joel had said something about the Anchor being only a block away. She hurried down the steps of the silent motel and strode briskly along the sidewalk.

The light fog cast a menacing gloom over downtown Echo Cove. Letty hitched her purse more firmly onto her shoulder and broke into a trot. This was not downtown Seattle, but the realization that she was out alone at night in a strange place had the overall effect of raising her anxiety level.

She spotted a neon anchor in the distance a short time later. Relief flooded through her. She began rehearsing exactly what she would say to Joel. She sincerely hoped he was not too smashed to be reasonable.

Letty noticed the flashing lights on top of the police cruiser as she crossed the deserted street. The vehicle with the logo of the Echo Cove police department painted on the door stood directly in front of the entrance to the tavern.

Alarm shot through her. With a gathering sense of dismay she rushed toward the door.

It slammed open when she was only a yard away. Joel came through first. He had his hands behind his back. Letty realized with horror that he was handcuffed. He was closely followed by a man in a police uniform. The officer's hand was wrapped around Joel's forearm. He was steering Joel in the general direction of the cruiser.

Letty's mouth fell open in shock. “
Joel
.”

Joel glanced at her. He looked thoroughly disgusted. His gaze met hers and then he raised his eyes toward heaven. “Somehow I knew you'd turn up at just the right moment, boss.”

Letty stepped into the path of the officer, forcing him to halt. She drew herself up the way she was accustomed to doing back at the reference desk when an especially demanding faculty member tried to bulldoze a member of her staff.

“Just one moment, if you please, Officer. I demand to know what is going on here. This man happens to belong to me.”

Joel and the officer stared at her as if she had gone crazy.

“What was that, ma'am?” the officer said carefully.

“You heard me. He works for me. I am his employer.”

The officer nodded politely as comprehension dawned. “Got it. Well, you may own him, but I'm taking him down to the station on account of he just caused one hell of a disturbance. You want to bail him out, you're welcome to come get him. The station's two blocks over and one block down, on Holt Street.”

“Bail him out?” Letty squeaked. “I've never bailed anyone out of jail in my life.”

“Don't feel obliged to break a perfect track record by doing it for me,” Joel muttered as the officer pushed him into the back seat of the cruiser. “Go on back to the motel.”

Letty ignored him. “Officer, please, I'm new at this kind of thing. What's the procedure here? Doesn't somebody have to press charges or something?”

“Yep.” The officer, whose name tag read Echler, looked bored. “That'll be Stan. He called in the complaint.”

“Who's Stan?”

“Owns the Anchor.” Echler slammed the rear door of the cruiser, locking Joel inside. He started around the front of the patrol car.

Letty rapped on the rear window. “Joel? Joel? I'll be right down to get you out of jail. Don't say or do anything stupid. Do you hear me?”

Joel did not bother to respond to that. He leaned back and focused on the mesh screen that separated him from the front seat of the patrol car.

Letty realized with a start that he was probably horribly embarrassed. “As well he should be,” she muttered beneath her breath as Officer Echler started the car and drove off. She would have a few things to say to Joel when she got him out of jail.

But that would have to wait. There were other things that needed doing at the moment.

Letty swung around and eyed the crowd that had trickled out of the Anchor and gathered in front to watch the proceedings. The men were talking and laughing among themselves.

Letty put her hands on her hips. “I'm glad you find this amusing,” Letty said in a loud voice. “Because I do not.”

The tavern patrons hushed immediately. They stared curiously at Letty.

“Who's she?” someone mumbled in the rear.

“Heard her say she owns Blackstone.”

That comment was greeted with a guffaw.

Letty started toward the tavern door, forcing the small crowd to part. “Which one of you is Stan?”

“Stan's inside. Big guy in a white apron. Can't miss him,” someone volunteered.

“Thank you,” Letty said in her coldest tone.

She pushed open the door and walked into the dimly lit tavern. The first person she saw was Keith Escott. He was sitting by himself at a table. He was holding a cold, wet towel to his jaw.

A big man in a white apron was mopping up spilled drinks on the other side of the room. She ignored him for the moment, concentrating instead on Keith.

Letty's stomach contracted as she surveyed the scene. She knew at once what had happened: Joel and Keith had been fighting, and she knew without being told there was only one thing the two men could have been fighting about. She walked over to the table and sat down.

“Keith? Are you all right?”

Keith groaned. “What does it look like?”

Letty tried again. “I take it you and Joel had a misunderstanding?”

“Bastard had my wife in his motel room this morning. Thinks he can come back here after all this time and just pick up where he left off.
Son of a bitch
. I should have killed him.”

Letty tried to calm herself. Keith was obviously drunk and probably severely traumatized from the bar fight. He did not look like the sort of man who got into tavern brawls. She strove to keep her voice crisp and businesslike.

“Keith, are you by any chance making reference to the fact that your wife called on Joel and me this morning to discuss the Copeland Marine situation?”

Keith blinked, apparently having trouble following the question. “She was in his room with him.”

“Yes, of course. So was I,” Letty said smoothly. “Joel and I have a suite with a connecting door. The three of us had a short business meeting. Your wife is quite naturally concerned that we might be forced to liquidate Copeland Marine. We assured her we will make every effort to find an alternative, but frankly, the situation does not look good.”

Keith stared at her, bleary-eyed. “What are you talking about? She went to see him.”

“About Copeland Marine. Yes, I know. As I told you, I was there.” Letty mentally crossed her fingers. She was not exactly lying. It was more a case of finessing the situation. It was a tactic corporate executives and overworked reference librarians used all the time. “What seems to be the problem here?”

But Keith had finally managed to focus on the crucial point. “You were there?”

“Yes. As I said, Joel and I share a connecting suite.”

“I knew it,” Keith muttered. “Son of a bitch is sleeping with his boss.”

Letty felt herself turning red. She was grateful for the dim lighting. “You may rest assured that I do not share my CEO with anyone. For any purpose whatsoever. Do I make myself quite clear, Mr. Escott?”

“He didn't take my Diana to bed?”

“Absolutely not.” Letty stood up. “Just how do you plan to get home tonight, Keith?”

“Got my car out front.”

“You're in no condition to drive. I'll call a cab for you.”

“Don't have any cabs here in Echo Cove,” Keith said.

“Then I'll call your wife.”

Keith straightened in the chair, looking slightly more sober. “No. For God's sake, don't do that.”

“I don't see why Diana should miss all the excitement,” Letty retorted. “What's your phone number?”

Apparently too weary to argue further, Keith subsided in the chair. “Five-five-five-seven-two-three-one.”

Letty went over to the bar and called to the big man in the apron. “Stan, where's your phone?”

Stan looked up, startled. “End of the bar. Why?”

“Isn't it obvious? I want to use it.” Letty found the phone and dialed swiftly. It was answered on the second ring.

“Hello?” Diana's voice was as sultry over the phone as it was in person. “Who is this? Is that you Keith? Where are you?”

“This is Letty Thornquist,” Letty cut in briskly. “Your husband has been in a brawl down at the Anchor. He has severely pummeled my CEO, and I am extremely upset over the matter.”

“Joel is hurt?”

“Yes, he is. He has been subjected to a totally unwarranted assault. I am, in fact, seriously considering a law-suit,” Letty said. “I will not have my employees beaten to a pulp by jealous husbands, and I will not tolerate having them thrown into jail without just cause.”

“What are you talking about?” Diana whispered, sounding badly shaken.

“Your husband has spent the evening defending your honor, Mrs. Escott. Due to his efforts on your behalf, he is in no condition to drive. I suggest you get down here to the Anchor and pick him up immediately.”

“Keith? In a
fight
? Good God,” Diana muttered. “This is crazy.”

“My sentiments exactly. If you do not get here in the next fifteen minutes, Mrs. Escott, I shall take your husband back to the motel with me. He can spend the rest of the night in Joel's room.”

Letty dropped the phone back into the cradle and rounded on Stan, the bartender. He was staring at her in growing consternation.

“Just what the heck is going on here? Are you that Miss Thornquist we've been hearing about?”

“
Ms
. Thornquist to you, Stan. I am the president of Thornquist Gear, and that man who has just been unfairly hauled off to jail is my CEO. I am not a happy camper.”

Stan's expression turned mulish. “Me neither. You can see for yourself he tore up my place. Won't hurt him none to spend the night in jail.”

“Thornquist Gear will pay for any damages that you may have sustained, Stan. You and I, however, have something to discuss.”

“Yeah? And what's that?”

“I am told that you intend to press charges against Mr. Blackstone.”

“Damn right I'm gonna press charges.”

“You may wish to reconsider your decision after you have taken a couple of things into account, Stan.” Letty sat down on one of the barstools and gripped her purse on her lap. “I expect you have heard the rumors of Thornquist Gear's involvement with Copeland Marine.”

“Yeah, I heard 'em.”

Letty smiled sweetly. “You will no doubt be aware, then, that the entire town of Echo Cove finds itself in a very delicate situation.”

“Delicate? Jesus, lady. You are something else.”

“Thank you. As I was saying, the situation is”—Letty fluttered a hand in the air—“unstable, to say the least. Grave decisions that will affect the future of this entire town will soon be made. I want you to understand, Stan, that as president of Thornquist Gear, I will be the one making those decisions.”

Stan stopped mopping up spilled beer. He eyed her warily. “What are you tryin' to say?”

“Simply put, the situation is so extremely delicate that the least little contingency could shift the balance, as far as I am concerned,” Letty said. “At this moment, for example, the balance is shifting quite rapidly in favor of shutting down Copeland Marine tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. Do I make myself clear, Stan?”

“You're threatenin' me, ain't you?” Stan looked scandalized.

“How do you think the Copelands will feel if they discover that they have no time left in which to negotiate—and all because of you, Stan?”

“Goddamn it. This is outright blackmail. You're one tough little broad.”

“Thank you.”

Stan grabbed the phone from behind the bar. “I'll call Echler right now and tell him I ain't pressin' charges.”

“A very wise decision, Stan. Rest assured I will not shut down the yard tomorrow morning at eight. Nor will I mention to Victor Copeland how extremely upset I was to discover that you had my CEO hauled off to jail at midnight. Bygones will be bygones, Stan. I am, however, making no promises concerning the future.”