Perfect Partners (25 page)

“Arthur,” she said quietly, “I want it understood that I meant what I said in there. Do not call Mr. Blackstone's office unless I specifically request you to do so. Is that quite clear?”

Arthur jumped and hastily tried to replace the receiver, which he had just picked up. The instrument missed the cradle and crashed on the desk top. “Yes, Ms. Thornquist.”

“Good.” Letty smiled coolly. “I want you to understand that, while it's true Mr. Blackstone promoted you into this position, I am the only one who can make certain you get to keep it. I would not be at all pleased to find out that you felt you owed your first loyalties to another executive down the hall.”

Arthur blinked in obvious horror at the situation in which he found himself. “But Mr. Blackstone said I was to keep him completely informed of everyone who comes and goes in this office.”

“I will see that Mr. Blackstone is kept informed of whatever he needs to know.” Letty walked back into her office and closed the door. She smiled at the three determined-looking men from Echo Cove. “Now, then, gentlemen, why don't you tell me why you've made this trip to see me?”

They all started to talk at once, stumbling over each other's words. Ed Hartley, the glum one, finally took the lead. He passed a hand over his head in a gesture he had no doubt developed years earlier when he had hair.

“The thing is, Miss Thornquist,” Ed said stiffly, “we've all realized just what's going on between Thornquist Gear and Copeland Marine. Now, none of us works for Copeland directly, but there's no doubt we're all going to get hurt if Copeland Marine is closed down. I run the main grocery store in town, and I can tell you up front that most of the people who buy food in my store get their paychecks from Copeland.”

Stan McBride grimaced. “And like I told Blackstone that night he got into it with Mr. Escott, I'm in the same boat as Ed here. I'll be plumb out of business if Copeland goes under, and that's a fact. Ninety percent of the guys who come into my place after work are coming from the yard.”

Ben Jackson nodded his head. “I run the bank on Main Street. Maybe you saw it while you were in town? I can tell you for certain that if Copeland gets shut down, the financial lifeblood of Echo Cove is going to dry up. It's true some people work for the commercial fishing outfit that operates out of the marina, but that business just isn't big enough to support the place. Copeland's checks pay the bills for nearly everyone in town.”

“What we're trying to tell you, Miss Thornquist, is that we don't want Copeland closed.” Ed Hartley looked at her beseechingly. “We all know Victor Copeland ain't the nicest guy to come down the pike in recent memory, and we also know that he was a little rough on Blackstone a few years back. But heck, that's the way it goes, you know? Like it or not, Echo Cove needs Copeland and it needs Copeland's firm.”

Letty folded her hands in front of her on the desk. “You're asking me to find a way to save Copeland Marine?”

“More like we're pleadin' with you, Miss Thornquist,” Stan said. “I know there's some bad blood between Blackstone and Copeland, but we're talkin' about a whole town goin' under here.”

Letty looked at him. “You do realize that what is happening to Copeland Marine would not have happened if the company had not been badly managed for the past few years, don't you?”

Stan shrugged helplessly. “I'll admit I don't know what Copeland's been doing with the firm. That's his business.”

“He's run it into the ground,” Letty murmured.

Hartley pinned her with an anxious glance. “But couldn't you get things sorted out? Or at least give Copeland a little more rope so's he can sort 'em out?”

“I don't know,” Letty said honestly. “The only thing I can tell you at the moment is that I'm looking into the situation. And that's all I'm free to say.”

Stan immediately looked more hopeful. “That's what we came here to ask, Miss Thornquist. Just take a second look and see if you can't find a way to give Copeland another chance.”

Joel took the stairs two at a time and pushed open the door that led to the fourth-floor hall. As he walked toward his office, he frowned down at a report he had picked up in Accounting. The new cost-cutting measures he had approved last quarter were starting to take effect. He was pleased. He decided to show the report to Letty. It would be educational for her to see how costs were controlled in a company the size of Thornquist Gear.

Hell, maybe he'd show them to her in bed tonight. He grinned to himself.

Joel was whistling tunelessly as he turned the corner in the hall and saw the three familiar faces clustered around the elevator. He halted abruptly as realization and anger erupted simultaneously. It did not take any great mental calculations to figure out what Stan McBride, Ed Hartley, and Ben Jackson were doing in the hall outside Letty's office.

“What the hell do you three think you're up to?” Joel asked coldly as he went toward them.

Stan shifted uneasily. “Hello, Blackstone. We just saw Miss Thornquist.”

“If you're hoping she'll save Copeland Marine for you, forget it.”

Ed Hartley, who looked just as woebegone as he had fifteen years ago, straightened his slumped shoulders. “We got a right to take our case to the owner of Thornquist Gear. We're fighting for our lives, Blackstone.”

“No shit?” Joel smiled thinly. “And you want me to do you a favor and keep Copeland afloat for you, is that it? I seem to recall the day my old man went down to your grocery store, Hartley, and asked for a little credit. We were in a real bind trying to pay off Mom's hospital bills. We needed some time. Remember what you said that day, Hartley?”

Ed Hartley turned a mottled shade of red. “Christ Almighty, that was a long time ago, Joel. Your pa was two months behind as it was. I couldn't let him string it out any further. I had my own bills to pay. It would have been bad business to extend any more credit.”

Joel nodded. “Sure, Hartley. I know just exactly what sort of position you were in. It would have been bad business to give my family a little help at a bad time. I'm sure you can understand that it would be real bad business for Thornquist Gear to give Copeland Marine any help now. Can't go around throwing good money after bad.”

Ben Jackson scowled nervously. “You hold a mean grudge, Blackstone. That all happened damn near twenty years ago. Can't you let bygones be bygones?”

“Which bygones do you suggest I forget, Ben?” Joel switched his gaze to Jackson. “The five hundred dollar loan you wouldn't give my father when he went down to your bank, hat in hand? He needed that money to pay for the funeral expenses for Mom. I knew better than to go to you for a loan when I needed help paying for his funeral. I realized you'd turn me down, just as you did him.”

Jackson looked affronted. “Now, see here, Blackstone. Your father was up to his eyeballs in debt when he came to see me. No way could I justify a loan to a man in his position. No smart banker would have done it. I had responsibilities to the board.”

Joel punched the elevator call button for the men. “No smart executive in my position could justify keeping Copeland Marine alive any longer. I'm sure you gentlemen understand. You're all businessmen, after all.”

“Come on,” Stan McBride said desperately. “Think about what you're doing to your hometown, Blackstone.”

The elevator arrived. Joel held the doors open politely. “I do think about it, Stan. I think about it a lot. The same way you must have thought about what you were doing the night you swore to the cops that my father was too drunk to drive the night he left the Anchor and drove off a cliff.”

“He was drunk, damn it.”

“Not everyone in the Anchor thought so.” Joel crowded the three into the waiting elevator. “But I'm sure that Victor Copeland made it clear he wanted your expert judgment as a bartender to prevail.”

“Now, see here, Blackstone, you don't understand what's at stake,” Ed Hartley sputtered.

“The hell I don't.” Joel smiled.

The elevator doors closed on the indignant, outraged, and desperate-looking faces of McBride, Hartley, and Jackson. Joel stopped smiling abruptly.

The three men had come to see Letty. He had caught them on their way out. That meant they had already had their interview and a chance to make a pitch to the softhearted president of the company.

Such incidents were not supposed to occur.

That meant somebody had screwed up, and that somebody was named Arthur Bigley. Bigley had apparently forgotten his instructions. People who forgot their instructions did not work long at Thornquist Gear.

Joel strode down the hall and stalked into Letty's outer office.

Arthur started at the sight of him and began a frenzy of blinking. “Mr. Blackstone.” Arthur's eyes filled with alarm.

Joel halted in front of his desk. “I just ran into three people in the hall who were on their way out from seeing Ms. Thornquist.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I was not informed of their presence in the building.”

“Uh, no, sir. You weren't.” Arthur clutched a pencil so hard it snapped in his fingers. The pieces dropped on the desk, rolled to the edge, and fell off onto the carpet.

“Such incidents are not supposed to happen, Bigley.”

Bigley's eyes filled with tears. “No, sir. I know they aren't. Ms. Thornquist said—”

“Christ, Bigley,” Joel interrupted in disgust. “Are you
crying
?”

“No, sir. I've been having trouble with my new contacts, sir.”

Joel let that go. “It doesn't matter what Ms. Thornquist said,” he continued softly. “You had direct orders from me, Bigley. You became an executive secretary because you gave me your solemn promise that you would follow the instructions I gave you. Is that not right, Bigley?”

“Yes, Mr. Blackstone,” Arthur agreed sadly.

“You have failed in your duties, Bigley. That means I will have to remove you from this position and find someone else who can follow my instructions.”

“Mr. Blackstone, please, I love this job.”

“Then you should have done it right,” Joel said.

The door of the inner office opened at that moment. Letty stood framed in the doorway. She took in the scene before her in one glance, and her eyes narrowed.

“What in the world do you think you're doing to my secretary, Mr. Blackstone? Get away from him at once.”

Joel slanted her a cold glance, fully aware that Arthur was darting anxious, questioning looks back and forth between Letty and him. “I will talk to you in a moment, Ms. Thornquist.”

“You will talk to me right now. And you will cease threatening my secretary this instant. I won't have it.”

Joel glowered at her. “I have a few things to say to him, if you don't mind.”

“I most certainly do mind,” Letty said. “Arthur works for me. I will speak to him if it's necessary.”

“I'm the one who put him into this position.”

Letty smiled aloofly. “For which I am very grateful. He's doing an excellent job.”

Arthur sent her a grateful look.

“That's a matter of opinion,” Joel said.

“It is indeed. And since Arthur works for me, my opinion is the only one that counts. Is that not so, Mr. Blackstone?”

Joel was trapped. That knowledge did nothing for his bad temper. “You've been here only a short time, and there are still a few things you don't yet know about running this firm, Ms. Thornquist.”

“Quite probably, Mr. Blackstone.” Letty smiled sweetly. “Why don't you come into my office and explain them to me?” She stood back and held open the door.

Joel clenched his back teeth, clamping an iron grip on his raging temper. “I believe I'll do just that, Ms. Thornquist.”

He went past Arthur's desk without looking down at him. He did not have to see his expression to sense his relief. Nor did he have to get a good look at his face to know that as far as Arthur was concerned, Letty had achieved the status of a minor deity in his eyes.

Joel was well aware of the ramifications of that encounter. He had just lost his spy in Letty's office. Win some, lose some, he reminded himself. A man had to pick and choose his battles. He had lost Bigley, but there was still a war to be fought.

He stalked into Letty's office and swung around to face her as she quietly closed the door. “What the hell did McBride, Hartley, and Jackson want?”

“I'm sure you know exactly what they wanted.” Letty broke off, wincing slightly at the muffled sound of something large and heavy bouncing on the floor in the outer office. “The dictionary he keeps near his typewriter, no doubt.”

“No doubt.” Joel shoved his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. “What a klutz.”

“You hired him.” Letty went around her desk and sat down.

“A miscalculation on my part.”

“If you mean because I won't allow you to use him to monitor every little thing that takes place in this office, yes. But that's not Arthur's fault. He tried his best. I, however, have informed him that he now reports to me, not to you. In the end we all have to choose our loyalties, don't we, Joel?”

“A brilliant observation, Ms. Thornquist. While we're on the subject, why don't you tell me just whose side you're on?”