Letty smiled at the hostess. “The Thornquist party. I believe Mr. Victor Copeland is expecting us.”
The hostess, a heavily made up woman in her early forties, was wearing a dress that was a size too small for her ripe figure. Her hair was the color of straw and had been teased to a fare-thee-well. She glanced at Letty, but her gaze skipped immediately to Joel.
“Mr. Copeland said he was expecting only one guest,” the hostess said, still staring at Joel.
“There's been a last-minute change. I hope that won't be a problem.” Letty watched the hostess with some irritation. The woman obviously could not take her eyes off Joel. For his part, Joel had lost interest after a short nod of greeting. He was scanning the dimly lit lounge, which was just off to the right.
“Uh, sure. Sure. No problem.” The hostess plucked a second menu out of the stack. “I'll have one of the busboys grab an extra chair.” She stared at Joel again. “Excuse me, sir. Do I know you? You look awfully familiar.”
“Blackstone,” Joel said calmly. “Joel Blackstone.”
The hostess's eyes widened in surprise. “Well, I'll be darned. I thought it was you, Joel. Marcy Stovall. Remember me? I worked at the bowling alley when you were in high school.”
“I remember.”
“What in the world are you doing back here—” Marcy broke off abruptly. When she continued, her voice started to rise. “Wait a second. You're here with Ms. Thornquist? You're going to have dinner with the Copelands tonight?”
Joel smiled without any warmth. “Looks like it.”
“Holy shit,” Marcy breathed. “This should be interesting.” She jerked her gaze back to Letty. “This way, please.” She led the way into the dimly lit eating area.
Letty shot Joel an angry, baffled glance. “What is going on here?” she whispered.
“I used to live here in Echo Cove. Guess I forgot to mention it.”
“I guess you did,” she snapped. “What in the world…?”
But it was too late to grill him further. Marcy came to a halt beside a table for six that had been set for only four. Two men and a woman were already seated.
The older man dominated the table by virtue of sheer bulk. He was a mountain of a man who seemed to be composed of equal parts muscle and fat. His gray suit strained across his huge midsection and was equally tight across his massive shoulders. He had pale eyes that were nearly lost in his florid, heavily jowled face. As Letty approached, he lumbered to his feet, smiled genially, and held out a hand the size of a side of beef.
“Miss Thornquist? Victor Copeland. I was sorry to hear about Charlie Thornquist's death. Never met him personally, but we did business together.”
“Thank you,” Letty murmured as she briefly lost her fingers inside his massive grasp. “Do you know my CEO, Joel Blackstone?”
“We've met,” Joel said. He stepped out of the shadows so that those at the table could see him clearly for the first time.
Somehow, Letty thought, she was not at all surprised by the stunned expressions on the faces of Copeland and the lovely woman who sat beside him as they turned to stare at Joel. The other man at the table, however, merely nodded with the normal response one expected between strangers.
“Jesus H. Christ,” Victor Copeland muttered, eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Joel.” The woman looked as if she were seeing a ghost. “My God. What on earth is going on?”
“Business.” Joel held Letty's chair for her. He smiled coldly as he sat down beside her. “Nothing personal. Just business. How have you been, Diana?”
The sandy-haired man seated next to Diana spoke up quietly. “Excuse me. I don't think we finished the introductions.” He turned to Letty. “I'm Keith Escott. This is my wife, Diana. Diana is Victor's daughter, in case you didn't know.”
“I see. How do you do?” Letty smiled at the attractive woman, but Diana was staring at Joel.
Keith glanced at his wife, looking uneasy. Then he smiled at Letty. “I hope you don't mind the crowd. Victor said he thought we should all come, since we're all involved in Copeland Marine in one way or another. If that's a problem, let me know.”
“Of course not.” Letty smiled, liking Keith at once.
Keith Escott appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He was a good looking man with an open, mobile face and neatly trimmed sandy hair. There was an air of quiet intelligence about him. He reminded her of some of the earnest young faculty members she had known back at Vellacott. He had that same look in his eyes, the one that said he was just beginning to understand how greasy the ladder of success really was, but he was ready to climb it anyway.
Diana Escott smiled coolly across the table. “I'm sorry. Seeing Joel again after all this time was a surprise. How do you do, Ms. Thornquist?”
“Fine, thank you.”
Diana looked to be thirty-one or thirty-two, but it was hard to tell. She was a striking woman with creamy white skin and raven black hair. Her eyes were huge and dark. The natural contrasts of her own coloring had been expertly highlighted with a judicious touch of eyeshadow and blusher. But the makeup did not hide the strained, unhappy look that lay like a mask over her beautiful features.
Letty noticed that Diana favored a bright, vivid shade of lipstick.
A fine pair of scarlet-tinted lips.
The mocking words popped into her brain for no apparent reason. She suppressed them immediately along with a disturbing image of a certain CEO's male member inserted between said scarlet-tinted lips.
But even as she squelched the image, Letty knew her instinct was correct: Joel and Diana had been more than friends at one time. That realization was as glaring as the neon sign on top of the Echo Cove Sea Grill.
“We had no idea Joel was with Thornquist Gear.” Diana's sultry eyes filled with a hard mockery as they swung to Victor Copeland. “Did we, Daddy?”
“No,” Copeland said brusquely. “We didn't.” He looked straight at Letty, ignoring Joel. “Mind telling us just what's going on here, Ms. Thornquist? We had a deal with your uncle. Things have been going real well. I'd like to know what your intentions are now that you've inherited his company.”
Letty glanced at Joel. He reminded her of a lion waiting for the perfect moment to rip open a gazelle's soft throat. She swiftly made an executive decision.
“I'd rather not get into specifics tonight, Mr. Copeland,” Letty said smoothly. “We both know that Copeland Marine is in trouble, but I'd rather discuss it tomorrow after I've looked around your boatyard and seen something of your operation.”
Victor snorted. “You want to look around? Now, see here, Ms. Thornquist—”
“Please call me Letty.”
He grinned, pleased at the invitation. “Why, sure. Now, the things is, Letty, all I need is a little more time and a little more cash. I can pull Copeland Marine out of the red if I just have a little bit more of each. I figure I can get it back into the black in another year. Did you take a look at last quarter's figures? Definitely up from the previous quarter's.”
“But still drowning in red ink, Daddy.” Diana smiled tauntingly. Her eyes were on Joel. “And I'll bet Joel knows that, don't you, Joel?”
“It's no secret,” Joel said. “Last quarter's figures look slightly better than those of the previous quarter only because of the usual seasonal variation in the business. They'll drop like a stone again next quarter.”
“Goddamn it, what the hell do you know about my business?” Copeland hissed.
“As Charlie's CEO, it was part of my job to keep track of Copeland Marine. I set up the original deal, of course, and worked out the details, and I've kept tabs on things ever since.” Joel's smile was carved in ice. “We have a lot of cash tied up in the Copeland Marine yard. And we own fifty-one percent of the business.”
Letty gave Joel a repressive look followed by a meaningful smile. “I said I would prefer to discuss specifics tomorrow. Do I make myself quite clear?”
The fury of the pre
dator that has been temporarily deprived of its legitimate prey leaped in Joel's eyes. In the next moment Letty saw that he had himself back under control.
“Sure, boss. Whatever you say.”
“Thank you.” Letty picked up her menu.
“I love it,” Diana murmured. “‘Sure, boss. Whatever you say.’ Oh, God, that's rich.” She swirled the wine in her glass and took a long swallow. “Tell me something, Letty. How does it feel to own your own company?”
“I'm enjoying it,” Letty answered with a polite smile.
“It must be fun to be able to order someone like Joel around,” Diana observed with a throaty chuckle. “I know exactly what I'd have him do if he worked for me.”
Letty did not look at Joel to get his reaction to that barb. It was not necessary. She could feel his anger lapping at her in waves.
“I think you've said enough, Diana,” Keith muttered.
Diana smiled brilliantly at him. “Keith darling, I haven't even begun.”
“Shut up, Diana. You've already had too much to drink.” Victor threw a warning glare at his daughter and then turned his attention back to Letty. “What do you say we get you a drink, Letty?”
“Thank you.” She looked up at the young woman who was hovering nearby. “I'll have a glass of white wine, please.”
“We've got a sauvignon blanc, a chardonnay, and a Riesling by the glass,” the waitress said.
“She'll have the chardonnay,” Joel said before Letty could make a choice. “And I'll have whatever you've got on draft.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Letty saw Diana arching one elegant dark brow as she watched Joel place the order.
“So you're now the sole owner of Thornquist Gear,” Victor said to Letty in a hearty tone as the drinks were brought to the table. “Big responsibility for a little lady.”
“So I'm told.” Letty hid her reaction to Copeland's patronizing tone and slid Joel a laconic glance. “Some people think I'm in over my head.”
Keith glanced at her with genuine interest. “What were you doing before you inherited Thornquist?”
“I was a librarian at a college back in Indiana.”
Diana sputtered on a swallow of wine. “A librarian? This get's better and better. That's wonderful. A librarian is going to tear Copeland Marine to shreds.” Her eyes narrowed and her smile became malicious. “With the help, of course, of a dirty no-good upstart bastard who can't keep his jeans zipped.” She turned her brilliant smile on her father. “Wasn't that how you described Joel fifteen years ago, Daddy?”
Letty was not the only one who was momentarily stunned by Diana's savagery. Only Joel looked amused.
Keith was staring at his wife as if he had not seen her before. “Christ, Diana. What the hell's the matter with you tonight?”
Victor was turning a mottled red. “Get her out of here, Escott. Get her out of here right now.”
Keith got to his feet and reached down to grip Diana's arm.
“That won't be necessary.” Letty was already on her feet. “I think we had better postpone our get-acquainted conversation until tomorrow. I'll call on you at your office at nine, if I may, Victor.”
Victor struggled to regain some control of the situation. “Look, I'm sorry about this. My daughter has been going through a bad patch lately. Depression or something, the doctor says. I thought it would do her good to get out tonight, but obviously I was wrong. Let Escott take her home, and get rid of Blackstone, here. No reason you and I can't have dinner.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” Diana declared, taking another deep swallow of wine. “I wouldn't miss this for the world.”
“I am afraid you'll have to miss it, Mrs. Escott.” Letty adjusted her glasses on her nose and shouldered her purse. “As president of Thornquist Gear, I cannot allow my employees to be insulted in public. Image, you know. I'm sure you understand. Let's go, Joel.”
“I'm right behind you, boss.” Joel took a swallow of his beer, put the glass down on the table, and got to his feet. He smiled humorlessly at the three people left at the table. “So long, everyone. It was a real pleasure. Nothing like coming back to your hometown and renewing old acquaintances. Enjoy your dinner.”
Letty was aware of him trailing obediently after her as they walked through the restaurant, but she did not look back. When they stepped out into the chilly night, Joel paced beside her in silence. The air around him was almost crackling with the energy he was generating.
Letty shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her suit jacket. She felt as if she were walking through a minefield. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”
“Old friends,” Joel said softly.
“Who? The Copelands?”
“Yeah.”
Letty came to a halt and stepped straight into his path, forcing him to stop. “Damn it, Joel, what is happening here?”
His eyes gleamed in the shadows. “No big deal, boss. Just business as usual. We're taking over Copeland Marine, and we're going to liquidate the assets. Real simple.”
Letty had never in her life felt such an overpowering desire to slap a man's face. She barely restrained herself. “Tell me what this is all about,” she ordered tightly.
“You've read the file. You know what it's about. It's just business, Letty.”
“It is not just business. It is very clear that whatever is going on here is extremely personal. Explain it to me.”
“I don't see why I should. It's personal for me, but not for you or the company. All you have to worry about is the business side of things, boss. And as far as the business angle is concerned, all the decisions have already been made. It's a cut-and-dried situation. Copeland Marine is dead meat. The only option is to liquidate.”
Joel started moving again, obliging Letty to fairly leap out of his way.
“Joel, wait a minute, damn you.” Letty hurried to catch up with him. “I want some answers.”
“And I want some dinner. I'm starving. There used to be an old drive-in a couple of blocks past the motel. Let's go see if it's still there.”
Letty started to protest, realized the futility of it, and closed her mouth again. Instead, she trotted along beside Joel, wincing at the punishment her feet were taking in the high heels.
Joel came to a halt two blocks later and nodded his head at the familiar neon logo that blazed forth over the restaurant. “I should have known. Old Ed sold out to a fast-food chain. Figures. Come on, Letty, you can buy.”
“Gee, thanks.” Grumbling, Letty dug into her purse.
“Only fair,” Joel said as he ordered two sacks of french fries and two fish sandwiches. “You deprived me of my first meal this evening, the one Victor Copeland was going to buy.”
“Somehow, I doubt that anyone would have enjoyed eating in that atmosphere.”
“I would have enjoyed it. A lot.”
“I don't see how.” Letty took her sack of french fries from him. They walked toward a plastic booth. “Not after what Mrs. Escott said. Did Victor Copeland once say all those things about you?”
“He said a lot more than that.” Joel slid into the booth and opened the carton containing his sandwich. “But what the hell. All water under the bridge, as far as I'm concerned. I'm a real forgiving sort of guy.”
Letty went still. “Joel, let me tell you something. You don't do Magnanimous well, so don't try to make me think that whatever happened here fifteen years ago is water under the bridge.”
“As I said, you don't have to worry about it. It doesn't concern you.” Joel ripped a huge bite out of the sandwich with his teeth.
“You wanted to come here to Echo Cove so we're here,” he said a few moments later. “But there's no point to this little exercise. Complete waste of time and money. If you've got any sense, you'll decide we can go home in the morning.”
“I had planned to spend two days here. You know that.”
“We've got a company to run back in Seattle.”
“It can survive without us fo
r two days.”
There was no use arguing with him. Letty could see that. She could also tell that it was highly unlikely he would confide in her right now. He was throbbing with anger, and it was all focused on that little trio they had left behind in the restaurant.
Tomorrow morning she would try to find out exactly what the bad blood was that ran between Joel and the Copelands. The inquisitive librarian in her would not rest until she knew what had happened fifteen years ago.
Several hours later, Letty came awake with a start. She sat straight up in bed and listened to the sounds from Joel's room. He was moving about on the other side of the wall.
Letty reached for her glasses on the bedside table and peered at the clock. It was one in the morning. She threw back the covers and got out of bed. She padded over to the connecting door, put her ear to the wood, and listened carefully.
He was definitely getting dressed; she could hear the zipper of his carryall sliding open. Letty rapped softly on the door.
“Joel? What are you doing?” she called through the door.
The connecting door opened, and Joel, dressed in jeans and nothing else, scowled down at her. “What the hell are you doing up?”
Letty stared at him, ignoring the question. “Oh, my God. You're going to run, aren't you?”
“Yeah. Go back to bed, Letty.”
“Joel, it's one o'clock in the morning, and there is no private road anywhere near this motel. I will not have the CEO of Thornquist Gear dashing up and down the main street of Echo Cove at this hour. Anyone who sees you will think you're crazy. You'll probably get picked up by the police.”
“Don't worry about it, Letty.”
“Think of the company image,” she insisted. “Think of your personal image as a representative of Thornquist Gear.”
“Right. Image. That's a real big issue with me, all right. Believe me, Letty, the good people of Echo Cove couldn't think any worse of me now than they did when I left town fifteen years ago. Now go back to bed.”
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