Twelve Angry Librarians

by Miranda James

  Forrest made a speedy exit from the room. No doubt he had another meeting to attend. I would have to remember to thank him for the fine welcome he had extended to the conference.

  I walked down the three steps from the podium to the ballroom floor and moved a couple of feet away. I needed to be back in the office by five to pick up Diesel. He stayed with Melba this afternoon while I came to the hotel to attend the opening of the conference. He protested when I left him, even though he loved Melba. I had to assure him a couple of times that I would be coming back for him before he stopped meowing and chirping indignantly.

  “He’s got a sassy mouth on him.” Melba had grinned at me as I eased out of her office to head to the parking lot behind the building.

  The drive back to campus would take all of seven or eight minutes, and I had plenty of time to look for Randi and Marisue before I needed to leave.

  I glanced around the room, searching for them. I had hoped they would come find me, but at the moment I didn’t see them anywhere. I also hadn’t spotted Gavin Fong, and that was fine with me. The longer I went without contact with the toad, the happier I would be.

  “Hi, there, Mr. Harris.”

  I turned to see a tall, willowy blonde approach me. She appeared to be in her midsixties and wore a tailored suit in a shade of aquamarine that suited her figure and coloring admirably. I had never seen her before that I could recall.

  She extended a hand, and I took it. “Good afternoon.” I smiled. “I must apologize. If we have met before, I’m afraid I don’t remember it.”

  The stranger laughed, a pleasant, throaty sound. “No need to apologize. We’ve not met before. I’m Nancy Dunlap. I’m director of the library at a school in Louisiana. I was hoping to meet you, and to meet that wonderful Maine Coon cat of yours. I’ve heard about him, you see.”

  “I’m afraid he doesn’t do well in large crowds,” I replied. “He’s back in the office with my administrative assistant. He’s quite friendly, but too many people at once tend to overwhelm him.”

  Nancy Dunlap inclined her head. “Of course, and I should have realized that had I given it much thought. I was excited about the opportunity. Both of you are apparently rather well-known here in Athena.”

  Oh dear, I thought. She’s heard about the murders I’ve been involved in and is going to pump me for details.

  I must have betrayed my dismay in my expression. She waved a hand in my direction. “No, no, not to worry. I’m not going to ask about anything to do with murder. Not my cup of tea.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I must admit to being curious as to how you heard about Diesel.”

  She laughed again. “One of my dearest friends lives here in Athena. Has done for many years. I don’t imagine you know her. Sandra Wallesch. We exchange letters regularly, and she’s written about you and your cat.”

  I searched my memory, but I couldn’t recall ever having met the woman.

  Nancy Dunlap continued before I could reply. “I believe she is a friend of a friend of yours. A woman named Melba Gilley.”

  I smiled. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met your friend, though Melba might have mentioned her to me at some point. I’ve known Melba since childhood, and she has so many friends it’s impossible to keep track of them all.”

  I was about to continue with an invitation for Nancy Dunlap to drop by my office tomorrow morning, but before I could get the words out, she scowled. What had I done to offend her?

  “You’ll have to excuse me,” she said in a rush of words. “I see someone coming toward us that I have no desire whatsoever to talk to. I’m sure I’ll run into you again.”

  With that she turned and hurried away. I glanced in the direction she had been looking before her departure, and I spotted Gavin Fong loping toward me.

  I was tempted to walk off as if I hadn’t seen him, but I was too late. Seconds later he halted about two feet from me. He was as reed thin as he was the last time I saw him, over twenty-five years ago. He blinked at me through thick glasses, and his hair, once jet-black, was now threaded with gray. His skin looked sallow and unhealthy, and his shoulders hunched forward like those of a much older man. His neck and head jutted forward as though he were a turtle. I had to look down to meet his gaze. He seemed to have shrunk a couple of inches since I’d last seen him. Maybe it was the atrocious posture, probably the result of too many hours spent peering at a computer screen. He had been more interested in computers than in his fellow human beings back when I knew him, and I doubted that had changed in the years since.

  His baleful gaze didn’t bother me. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a middle finger. I wanted to roll my eyes at such a childish display, but I refrained. I waited for him to speak.

  “Where’s your wife? I figured she’d be here with you.” His voice still sounded high and whiny.

  “Dead.”

  That disconcerted him. Either his acting had improved significantly, or he honestly hadn’t been aware of Jackie’s death several years ago.

  “Uh, sorry.” Then Gavin mumbled for a moment, and I couldn’t make out the words.

  “Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” I said.

  Gavin shrugged. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Had he said a brief prayer? I wondered. Or was he responding to a voice in his head?

  I started to edge away from him, and he held out a hand, almost—but not quite—touching my arm. “Hang on,” he said.

  “What is it you want, Gavin?” I knew I sounded irritable, but at the moment I didn’t care whether anyone overheard us.

  “You never did respond to my e-mail.” Gavin blinked at me, his eyes eerily magnified by his lenses. “You aren’t qualified to keep the job permanently. You don’t have any publications to your credit that I could find. Your background is public libraries. You’re simply not a worthy candidate.”

  “Unlike you?” I invested those two words with every ounce of sarcasm I could muster, but I had forgotten how oblivious Gavin was to such responses.

  “Most assuredly.” He began to recite the positions he had held and tick them off on his fingers. I waited until he was nearly done before I interrupted.

  “Do you seriously think a school like Athena College is going to be impressed with your pathetic record of moving from one job to another every three years? It’s painfully obvious to anyone with even a quarter of a brain that you weren’t fit for the positions you managed to wangle yourself into somehow.” I paused for a breath. “You’re either grossly incompetent or impossible to get along with, or perhaps both, and I’ll be skating on ice in the underworld before you get anywhere near the job.”

  Even a man as obtuse as Gavin couldn’t help but understand me. I had obviously managed to penetrate the fog of self-importance that clung to him. He scowled, took one step back, and swung at me.

  I had anticipated him, though, and easily stepped away. He came at me again, and once more I moved out of reach. The third time he tried to hit me, I’d had enough. My temper took over, and I decked him with a swift right to the jaw.

  SIX

  Luckily for both of us, I hadn’t hit Gavin as hard as I could have. He landed on his rear, his glasses askew but still on his head. I stood looking down at him, watching lest he try to come after me again.

  As the moments passed and he stayed sitting on the floor, my temper began to cool. I started to feel sorry for him. I had spoken harshly and provocatively, and I realized belatedly I had baited him, hoping he would attack. Well, my temper had won that round.

  “Sorry, Gavin, I shouldn’t have done that.” I extended a hand to help him up.

  Instead of taking the proffered hand, he scooted away from me, still on his rear, until he was several feet back from where I stood. I shrugged and watched while he slowly got to his feet, after first having straightened his glasses.

  “Oh, Gav
in, you poor thing.” A woman rushed up to Gavin and clutched his arm. “Are you all right? I saw the whole thing.”

  Gavin rubbed his jaw and glared balefully at me. “I’m okay, Maxine.” He brushed her arm away. “I’m glad you saw this unprovoked attack on me. You can be my witness when I bring charges for assault against this ape.”

  “But you tried to hit him first.” The woman, who looked to be about forty-five, hovered anxiously around Gavin. She made no further attempt to touch him, however. “That’s not going to look good, and you know what Dr. Elmwood told you the last time you tried to hit someone.”

  Interesting, I thought. How many other incidents like this had Gavin been involved in recently?

  “Yeah, yeah. Elmwood is an ass,” Gavin said. “I can’t help it if I try to defend myself against Neanderthals all the time. I’m getting so freaking tired of these threats and attacks, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He took a couple of steps toward me. “You can rest assured, Charlie, I’ll be taking this up with the president of Athena and with the local authorities. Maxine is my witness.”

  He strode away with the rather dowdily dressed Maxine right behind him.

  I didn’t bother calling after him with a response. There was no point.

  After a moment I became uneasily aware that a number of people nearby stood watching me. One of them, a bald, tall, muscular young man who sported double earrings in each ear as well as heavily tattooed forearms, came up to me.

  He extended a hand. “Bob Coben, Mr. Harris. I am happy to shake your hand. I work with Dr. Fong, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to do exactly what you just did. I’ll be happy to serve as a witness for you, that he swung at you three times before you retaliated. Plus I’ll be happy to tell whoever it is what a complete and utter jerk he is.”

  I shook his hand. He had a firm grip, and I tried not to wince. “Thank you, Mr. Coben. I appreciate that. I provoked him, however, so it really was my fault.”

  Coben shrugged. “I didn’t hear what you said to him, but frankly, it doesn’t take much to provoke him. He’s always convinced everyone is out to get him, and he lashes out all the time. He’s lucky he’s still employed. Actually, the word going around on campus is that he’s gone as soon as the semester’s over. Our president loathes him, just like everyone else who’s ever spent more than five minutes with him.”

  Another person approached while Bob was talking. A woman of average height, she sported dark, curly locks and a warm smile. She extended her hand.

  “Hello, Mr. Harris, I’m Cathleen Matera. Sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing what you two were discussing. I also saw what happened and would be happy to be a witness for you, if necessary.”

  I shook her hand and returned her smile. “Thank you, Ms. Matera. I regret I displayed such poor behavior in front of you all. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me.”

  Cathleen Matera laughed. “I worked with Gavin in Colorado, mercifully for me only for about three years. We had a party after he left our library.”

  Bob Coben snorted with laughter. “I’m looking forward to a party like that myself.”

  “I went to library school with him, lo these many years ago,” I said. “He never endeared himself to his fellow students, I have to say. It’s rather sad to see he has never learned to get along with people.”

  “He is rather pathetic,” Cathleen Matera said. “He is his own worst enemy, of course, but he’s such a narcissist he will never understand that.”

  “Yeah, he’s always frustrated that the rest of the world can’t see and appreciate his genius.” Bob Coben ran a hand over his smooth pate. “I have to go now, got to meet someone for dinner, Mr. Harris, but don’t forget my offer.” He dug in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a business card.

  I accepted the card and thanked him. He nodded and sauntered off. I turned to Cathleen Matera, who was digging in her handbag. She, too, pulled out a business card for me.

  “I appreciate this,” I told her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any cards with me.”

  “Not to worry.” Her cheeks dimpled when she smiled, I noticed. “I think I know where to find you. I need to get going myself. Talk to you later.”

  As she walked away I realized the small crowd that had been watching us had dispersed. I felt considerably relieved. I hoped I didn’t have to talk to anyone else for a while about my poor behavior.

  I headed for the door, intent on getting back to the office, collecting Diesel, and going home. I was surprised that I hadn’t seen either Marisue or Randi, but perhaps they had decided to skip the welcome. There was a reception later that I had to attend. I had enough time to get Diesel home and freshen up, however, before I had to be back for it. I’d rather stay home, of course, but duty called.

  Yet another reason to rethink my interest in the job as a permanent part of my life.

  I managed to reach my car without being further detained. During the short drive back to campus, I thought about Gavin’s threat to denounce me to Forrest Wyatt and the local authorities. Would he really follow through on that? He well might, I decided. He was probably vengeful enough. If he did, I would turn the matter over to my lawyer, my son, Sean. He could handle it. I refused to worry about it for now.

  Diesel and I made it home shortly after five. I made sure he had fresh food and water, and I left him happily munching his favorite dry food while I went upstairs to undress and freshen up.

  I decided a hot shower was in order, and when I finished I found Diesel snoozing on the bed. I sat down by him for a few minutes to cool down before getting dressed. He turned on his back for me to rub his belly. He purred while I did so.

  “I’ve got to go out again in a little while,” I said. “You’re going to have to stay here, though.” He meowed, and I felt sure he understood me. “Stewart and Haskell are going to be here with you, though, and Dante, too.” Dante was Stewart’s little poodle. He and Diesel were good friends. “They’ll take care of you until I get home again.” Diesel meowed again while I continued to stroke.

  Stewart Delacorte, a chemistry professor at Athena, and his partner, Haskell Bates, a deputy in the Athena County Sheriff’s Department, occupied an apartment on the third floor of my house. Haskell had only recently moved in, and I frankly felt more secure having both him and Stewart in the house with me, now that both my children were married and living in homes of their own. My young boarder, Justin Wardlaw, would soon be back after a semester in England. He had one final year at Athena, and then he would no doubt move on. I would certainly miss him, and so would Diesel.

  That thought led me back to the possibility that Laura and Frank and my grandson might be headed for Virginia over the summer. I really didn’t want to think about that at the moment. It was too depressing.

  I forced my mind back to the conference and my responsibilities. I looked forward even less than before to that cataloging panel on Saturday morning, now that I’d had a run-in with Gavin. Having to sit with him on a panel wasn’t a prospect calculated to fill me with anything but disquiet, not to mention loathing. I had no choice, however. I had to hope that he wouldn’t kick up a ruckus when he saw me there.

  Perhaps I should discuss this with Lisa Krause, tell her about the incident, and help her find someone to take my place on Saturday morning. Yes, I decided, that was what I needed to do. No point in exacerbating an already tense situation by putting Gavin and me together in a public setting again.

  Diesel tapped my hand—the hand that had stopped stroking his belly. I smiled and rubbed a little more. “You’ve had enough of that,” I told the cat. “Time for me to get dressed, though I really don’t want to put on another suit and tie and go out again.” My dry-cleaning bills had gone up considerably, and I was at the point of having to buy a couple of new suits. Not to mention a few new ties. I had given most of mine away once I retired from the public lib
rary, and now I had only three. And maybe a few new dress shirts to go along with the new suits and ties. I could probably use another pair of shoes as well.

  I sighed. This job was getting expensive. I gave Diesel one last rub and a scratch of the chin, and went to finish dressing.

  Downstairs, Diesel and I found Stewart and Haskell in the kitchen. Haskell sat at the table, sipping a beer, while Stewart worked at the stove, adding ingredients to a large pot. Dante, his poodle, left his side and came to greet Diesel with a few licks. Diesel tolerated them for a moment, then put a paw on the dog’s head to stop him. He moved away from Dante and went to sit beside Haskell’s chair. Dante turned his attention back to Stewart, his eyes riveted on the stove.

  “What’s for dinner?” I asked, chuckling at the two animals.

  “Chili,” Stewart said. “There will be plenty of leftovers. Sorry you can’t stay and eat with us tonight.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “I’m sure it will be much better than the finger food they’ll serve at the reception. I’ll probably help myself to a bowl or two later on when I get home.”

  Diesel meowed loudly, and Haskell cracked a grin. He reached out to rub the cat’s head. “Better set aside a dish for Mr. Big here, too.”

  “No, he can’t have any,” Stewart and I said in unison.

  “Why not?” Haskell asked.

  “Onions,” Stewart said. “They’re toxic to cats and dogs both, so Dante can’t have any, either.”

  “I forgot that.” Haskell downed the rest of his beer. “I guess I’m not used to having these four-legged critters around much. My dad was allergic to cats, and my mama was afraid of dogs, so we didn’t have any around when I was growing up.”

  “That’s a shame,” I said. “They’re a lot of company.”

  “I’m getting used to it.” Haskell grinned. “Luckily for me, I’m not allergic or afraid.”