Perfect Partners

them?”
    “I don’t have any more at your place. We’ll have to drop by my apartment.”
    “Okay,” Letty agreed. “Actually, that brings up an interesting point. We’re going to have to decide if it’s economically worthwhile to maintain two apartments. Maybe we should just move into one. What do you think?”
    Joel squashed his irritation. “You were the one who said we should keep our own apartments.”
    “That was before I realized that I could handle a real, full-fledged affair.”
    “Your father isn’t going to approve of our having a perpetual affair, Letty. He’ll expect some sign of commitment fairly soon.”
    “He’ll just have to get used to the affair, won’t he?”
    “He’s kind of an old-fashioned guy,” Joel reminded her. “I can tell. And you’re his only daughter. Sooner or later he’ll expect you to get married.”
    “Who knows? Maybe I will get married. Sooner or later.”
    They caught a bus up to the First Hill neighborhood where Joel lived. It was faster and easier than going back to Letty’s place to get the Jeep out of her garage.
    It occurred to Joel as they walked into the small lobby that he had not been spending a lot of time at his own apartment lately. It was Letty’s place that felt like home now. Maybe he should consider getting rid of his apartment.
    But that would only encourage Letty’s new notion of having all the benefits of marriage without the license.
    Things were getting complicated.
    “This won’t take long,” he said as they got out of the elevator and started down the hall. He dug his keys out of his jeans. “Maybe I’d better check the refrigerator while I’m here. I think I left some milk in there.”
    “It’s probably gone sour by now,” Letty said. “It’s a good thing you don’t have any plants to worry about. You know, Joel, you really should consider moving in with me. It’s a waste of money to maintain this place. And I’ve got a better view.”
    “I’ll think about it,” Joel muttered.
    Then he shoved his key into the lock of his front door and realized instantly that something was very wrong.
    “Damn it to hell.”
    Letty glanced at him in alarm. “What is it?”
    Joel eased the key back out of the lock and pushed the door open. It swung inwardly very easily. Too easily.
    “Somebody busted the lock,” Joel said. “Ten to one the place has been cleaned out. Goddamn it. I’ll bet they got the new speakers I bought two months ago. And the computer. And Lord knows what else.”
    He strode furiously into the apartment and went down the short hall to the living room. He realized at once that what had taken place had been more than a quick, efficient burglary.
    The apartment looked as if a bomb had exploded in the middle of it. Furniture had been overturned, the cushions ripped open with a knife. Lamps had been smashed. Books had been dumped from the shelves.
    Everything of value was still there, but it had all been systematically destroyed, not stolen. The new stereo speakers looked like gutted fish. They had been slashed open and the innards torn out.
    “Oh, my God,” Letty whispered. She moved closer to Joel.
    Wordlessly, Joel toured the apartment with Letty at his heels. The clothes in his closet had been doused with varnish. The smell reminded Joel of a boatyard. The food in the refrigerator had been dumped all over the kitchen floor and left to rot. Joel grimaced at the odor of sour milk.
    “Vandals?” Letty asked softly.
    “No,” Joel said, thinking of the varnish that had been flung on everything in his closet. “Victor Copeland. He must have come here right after he left my office this morning.”
    “How did he know where you lived?”
    Joel shook his head. “I don’t know, but it probably wasn’t all that difficult to find out.”
    “Joel, this looks sick.”
    “I know.” Joel recalled the wildness in Copeland’s eyes that night fifteen years ago in the abandoned barn. He had known then that if it had been possible to do so, Copeland would have willingly killed in that moment.
    Joel walked over to where the phone was lying on the carpet. He picked it up and saw that the clip on the end of the cord was still intact. He plugged it into the jack. He had the number for Copeland Marine in his pocket. He dialed it quickly.
    The phone was answered almost at once by Keith Escott.
    “Figured you’d be spending the night there,” Joel said. “This is Blackstone.”
    “What’s up?” Keith asked,