Perfect Partners

fingers locked around the phone as if he could somehow grab Copeland through the line.
    But it was too late. Copeland had slammed down the receiver on his end.
    Joel kept his death grip on the phone and started to dial the number of the Thornquist cabin. The fury was burning in him. “
Last time it was your father
.” There was no longer any doubt. Copeland was a killer.
    “What is it? Was that Copeland?” Morgan put down his coffee.
    “It was Copeland, all right. He says he knows where Letty is and he’s going after her.” Joel listened to the telephone company recording that had come on the line. “Shit.”
    “What?”
    Joel dropped the receiver into its cradle and looked at Morgan. “I can’t get through to the cabin.”
    Morgan narrowed his eyes and gazed out the window. “This rain we’re seeing here may be coming down as snow in the mountains. The phones are always going down during a snowstorm up there.”
    “Christ.” Joel forced himself to think. “I’ve got to get to her.”
    “You got chains for the Jeep?”
    “Sure.” Joel stood up, shrugged into a blue down jacket, and pocketed his revolver. “Keep trying the phones. See if you can get through to the cops up there. Tell them what’s going on.”
    “No,” Morgan said. “You’re not leaving me here. I’m going with you. My daughter and my wife are up there. Escott can stand by the phones. I’ll call him and let him know what’s happening.”
    Joel nodded once. “All right. Move.”
    They both moved. Fortunately the morning rush hour traffic was light leaving the city. Most of the commuters were headed into downtown Seattle, not out to the suburban east side. Nevertheless, it took time. Too much time.
    Once free of the city, Joel was able to move more quickly. It was raining heavily on Interstate 90 as they started climbing into the heavily forested terrain east of Seattle.
    The rain turned to sleet and then to snow in the space of half a mile. By the time they turned off the freeway onto the back road cut into the mountain above the river, visibility was down to a few yards.
    “We’re going to have to stop to put on the chains,” Morgan said.
    “I know. I’ll pull over up ahead.”
    Morgan shot him a quick glance. “It won’t take long. I’m an old hand at this. I’ve been putting on chains since I was seven.”
    “Figures. I keep telling Letty you midwesterners are a hardy bunch.”
    “You better believe it. Joel, she’s going to be all right. Diana is with them. Copeland won’t hurt his own daughter. She can handle him until we get there.”
    “I wish I could believe that. How the hell did he learn about the cabin?”
    “That,” said Morgan, “is a very good question.”
    Joel was about to respond when some sixth sense made him glance into the rearview mirror. “Damn. There’s someone right behind us.”
    “Give him plenty of warning before you try to pull over in this muck.”
    “I will.”
    The big car behind the Jeep was following far too closely for the treacherous conditions. The snow-covered road was slick, and braking action would be almost nonexistent without four-wheel drive or chains.
    Joel was suddenly very conscious of the sheer drop to the right of the narrow road. It was a long way down to the river.
    Morgan turned around in his seat. He squinted through the rear window. “What the hell’s the matter with that idiot?”
    “Damned if I know.” Joel started to ease the Jeep to the side of the road.
    At that moment the big car—a Chrysler, Joel noticed—surged forward and swung out as if intending to pass.
    “I don’t believe it,” Morgan said disgustedly. “You West Coast folks are never going to learn how to drive in snow.”
    Joel glanced to his left and saw the outline of Victor Copeland’s massively overweight body behind the wheel of the big car.
    “Damn it to hell,” he said softly as realization dawned. “Copeland didn’t know where Letty was. He waited until we left the office, and then he followed us. It’s me he wants.”
    Joel remembered all too clearly how his father had died. He suddenly knew Copeland intended the same fate for him. The narrow river gorge yawned at the edge of the slick road, invisible because of the driving snow.
    Copeland had followed them all the way from Seattle, waiting for his opportunity. There had been no chance on the busy interstate, but now the two cars were alone on a narrow road.
    Joel waited, sensing what was coming. He reacted just