Overdue

by Elizabeth Spann Craig

  I frowned. “I’m sorry—what are you saying? I thought perhaps Luna and I could even take turns responding to the Ask Fitz questions.” I was sincerely hoping this was the case. “You’d mentioned earlier that responding could even be a group effort at the morning meetings.”

  Wilson sighed. “And now I’ve reconsidered that idea. It’s just that Luna’s experiences aren’t exactly in the small-town realm.”

  Luna’s eyebrows shot up. “But I grew up here!”

  “And immediately left and spent most of your adult life in a big city with big city problems. I’m just not convinced you’re the best person for this job,” said Wilson. His voice didn’t sound unconvinced at all—it sounded certain he didn’t want Luna to have anything to do with it.

  Luna looked as if she’d been slapped, although no one had been anywhere near her. “But having a lot of experiences is good for this kind of job. It helps me deal with different types of people. Even in a small town, there’s not such a thing as a cookie cutter problem.”

  Wilson cleared his throat and stood, actions I knew indicated the discussion was over. “I’m afraid I don’t see it quite the same way. Let’s start out with Ann responding to the columns, for now anyway. If that needs to change, I’ll re-evaluate. Ann, if you need anyone to consult with, you can feel free to ask Luna her opinion, but I want you to be the person behind this program.”

  As soon as he’d closed the door behind him, I quickly said, “I’m sorry about this, Luna. Wilson has been in a funny mood lately. Believe me, I don’t want to be the person behind Ask Fitz. I’m with you—life experiences are key for dispensing advice and my life experiences are fairly minimal and random.”

  But Luna would hear nothing of it. She said, “You’re completely wrong, Ann. You have more common sense in your little finger than most people have in their whole bodies. That’s what you’re bringing to the table—your brain. Maybe you haven’t had as many life experiences as I have, but that’s a good thing. Wilson is right: this column is intended for a particular audience. And the audience doesn’t necessarily understand a New York state of mind.”

  I shook my head. I could tell Luna was still hurt, as she should be. It seemed like Wilson had stood in her way a lot lately, and I really couldn’t figure out why. First there was the pay raise thing, which Luna had asked for and which hadn’t gone well. Then he hadn’t been at all flexible with Luna’s hours when she’d asked him for some extra time to take her mom to appointments . . . causing Luna’s mom to have to switch around some appointments. It was as if Wilson was determined to stand in her way, no matter what the issue was.

  But Luna apparently read my features and the next thing I knew, she was rolling her eyes. “Please, Ann. Do you think I’m going to completely shy away from offering you advice for the advice column? Does that really sound like me? As soon as I get the chance, I’m going to be glancing through some of those entries to see what’s on people’s minds.”

  I still must have looked troubled because she said, “Besides, I’ve got a great idea for something, myself. You know how I’ve wanted to get more teens involved in the library?”

  I nodded, happy to be getting on a slightly different subject. “Sure. For a good reason—historically, we haven’t been able to lure as many teens here. It’s tough to come up with a really good program for them. They’re not exactly excited to come to the library for an art program and there hasn’t been too much participation when we’ve tried book clubs.”

  Luna looked like she was warming to her subject. “Exactly! I want the library to be a fun place for these kids to come. But they don’t have a lot of time. When I’ve talked to the teens who’ve come in, they’re really strapped for time between school, jobs, sports, and trying to keep up with their friends. So I just casually started asking them what kind of program they’d like. What they’d find useful. They were saying they don’t have study hall in school anymore. I mean, can you imagine?”

  I didn’t say I hadn’t had study hall at Whitby High either. Apparently, it had been abolished at some point in the 80s.

  “So I asked them if it would be helpful to have a study room set up, especially during exam weeks. We could have snacks and soft drinks and maybe even some music. Maybe we could even have a couple of off-duty teachers,” said Luna, tilting her head to one side, thoughtfully.

  I grinned at her. “Is there such a thing as an off-duty teacher? They’re not exactly like off-duty cops.”

  She grinned back, but looked distracted. “So, what do you think?”

  Luna was so eager that at first I couldn’t bear to tell her it sounded a lot like our ill-fated study buddy program at the library a few years ago. After our youth librarian had stepped out of the (then-quiet) room, a food fight had erupted. When Wilson had seen the damage, he’d vowed to never host anything like that again. But maybe she needed to be clued in so she could avoid some of the issues we’d had last time.

  I said slowly, “I think it sounds good. We had something slightly similar years ago, but it wasn’t handled well. When you ask Wilson about it, make sure to tell him you plan on it being completely supervised by adults and the kids themselves requested it.”

  Luna beamed at me. “Good tips. I’ll do that.” Then she looked a little deflated. “Although getting it past Wilson is the big thing. He’s turned into Dr. No lately, when it comes to me.”

  I had a feeling I knew why, too. Luna was a very industrious worker while she was at the library. And I knew Wilson has admired the rapport she has with the kids and their parents. She also was quite creative when it comes to program ideas. The only problem with Luna was that she had a habit of coming in late and needing to unexpectedly ask for time off. Wilson had always been a real stickler when it came to punctuality. I’d seen him make note of her lateness with pursed lips and an eye on the clock. I knew a lot of her lapses had to do with making sure her mom was settled in the mornings, but some of it had to do with Luna herself—and her laid-back approach to time and life.

  I hesitated. The last thing I wanted to do right now was to point out what seemed obvious to me, but I also wanted Luna to get past this rough patch with our boss. I said, “You probably don’t know this, but Wilson is super-strict about punctuality. Maybe you could try leaving a little earlier to get here? You might be doing this anyway if you’re thinking about biking to work.”

  Luna’s eyes opened wide as if she was hearing a revelation from above. “You mean the times I’ve been a little late? I haven’t even been running that far behind.”

  It depended on what you called behind. To Luna, fifteen minutes was nothing. To Wilson, it was a huge deal. It hadn’t created any problems because the times it had happened, I’d just floated between the children’s section and the circulation desk. But it could have created problems.

  Luna frowned. “But he hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

  I nodded. “That’s Wilson’s way. He won’t say anything . . . he just takes notes.”

  There was a determined jut to Luna’s chin now. “Got it. Okay, so I’ll come in early now. On my bike, once I get one. Now I’m motivated! I can make this happen.” She looked at her watch. “Better run. Operation Perfect Employee is now underway.” She saluted me and then scurried out of the breakroom.

  Chapter Ten

  Dear Fitz,

  Suddenly, I feel like I’m in middle school again. There’s a woman I really like. I’d like to ask her out, but I’m not sure she likes me the same way. What should I do?

  Signed,

  Unsure

  Dear Unsure,

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained! Make the opportunity to speak with her privately and ask her out for something casual—a coffee, maybe. That’s when you might have the chance to find out how she really feels.

  For more tips, check out the links below for experts’ thoughts on asking for dates.

  Your Friend,

  Fitz

  THAT AFTERNOON, I WAS at the circulation desk
when we had a call come in. “Whitby Library, Ann speaking,” I said.

  I heard an educated drawl and straightened up a little. Tanya James was on the line. “Hi, Ann. This is Tanya James. I was wondering if you or someone else could give me a hand tomorrow with some books for the Friends sale.”

  “Of course we can help you out,” I said automatically. I knew Wilson would automatically sign off for somebody to help out Tanya. “What time works best for you?”

  “I’ll have a few errands to run in the late morning, but I could meet you at my house around 12:30? Would that work?” She gave me the address, even though I knew exactly which house it was. There were only so many mansions in town, after all.

  “That’s perfect,” I said smoothly. “See you then.”

  The rest of my day was a series of interruptions like that. I helped an older gentleman learn how to find his emails on his cell phone, helped a patron troubleshoot one of our more-finicky computers, and made a few book recommendations for a mom who was trying to get back to reading now that her kids were a little older.

  In between, I hesitantly worked on Ask Fitz while Fitz lay complacently beside me on the circulation desk, not a care in his furry head. I was positive Fitz’s answer to most of the questions posed would be a purring, “Relax! Go find a sunbeam and sprawl out in it.”

  Wilson had understated the response to Ask Fitz. I was stunned and rather overwhelmed to discover not only had the post had lots of views on social media, it had lots of responses. The questions did range, as Wilson mentioned, from the minor to the major. And it looked as if the post had been shared many, many times. I wasn’t sure quite what qualified as ‘going viral,’ but Ask Fitz seemed to be on the cusp.

  I glanced up from cataloging and saw Burton walking up to the desk. “Read any good books lately?” he asked with a grin.

  “Good ones and bad ones.” I snorted.

  “Uh-oh. What should I avoid? Got a tip for me?”

  I said, “Skip Ulysses if you like your novels straightforward. I mean, I love William Faulkner and his stream of consciousness. But Joyce takes it to a whole new level.”

  Burton chuckled. “Got it. I’ll make a mental note of that,” he said, tapping his large forehead. “Although I don’t think I was in danger of picking up James Joyce for any light reading.”

  I said, “Are you looking for a book recommendation? I can pull out some stuff I think you’d enjoy.”

  He shook his head. “Still trying to wade through a World War II novel I checked out, but thanks. I was just coming in to see how things were going here. The library seems to be at the center of these murders, unfortunately.”

  I snorted. “Better not let Wilson hear you say that. He’s on a campaign to keep the library’s reputation spotless.”

  Burton said, “And I totally understand that. I was just wondering if you had any information for me. I know a lot of people close to Carmen come in here a lot. Carmen was in here a lot, after all, as a trustee.”

  I said slowly, “Well, I’ve spoken with both Blake and Elliot. Both of them seem very upset about Carmen’s death and convinced the other guy had something to do with it.”

  Burton nodded, “Especially Blake, I bet.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Since you seem to have some background with Blake, what do you make of him?” asked Burton.

  I blew out a breath. “Well, I wouldn’t say I had much background with him. I went to school with him and he helps out in the library from time to time with maintenance issues. With an old library, there are plenty of maintenance problems, as you’d probably guess. He’s the kind of guy who’s able to do anything. And if he can’t do it, he can figure out how to.”

  Burton said, “Aside from his capabilities?”

  I said, “I think he has a temper. I remember in school he’d get frustrated sometimes with classes and would kind of blow up.” I paused. “You know, it’s not really fair of me to judge somebody for something that happened when he was a teenager. I wasn’t the same person then that I am now either.”

  “How about now, then?” asked Burton. “Have you seen any signs of temper still?”

  “Blake seems really affable to me. He’s eager to please; he has a good work ethic. He’s cheerful. The only thing I’d say that I’ve noticed is the way he was really jealous over Carmen.”

  Burton nodded. “Carmen seems to have been quite an instigator. Do you think she liked the drama she created?”

  I said dryly, “I have the feeling she might have. This is going to sound bad, but Carmen was all about Carmen. She probably loved having guys fight over her.”

  “Was that what was happening?” asked Burton.

  I quickly said, “I didn’t see anything like that. All I know is what I’ve heard from Blake and from Elliot. I know the two of them were squabbling over her. And I know the only time I’ve really seen a display of temper from Blake in recent memory was over Carmen. He’s pretty convinced Elliot had something to do with Carmen’s death. He probably told you the same thing.”

  Burton chuckled. “Yes. Numerous times. Fairly stridently. He can’t seem to understand why I can’t just drive over to the college and arrest Elliot.”

  “Lack of evidence.”

  “Exactly. An argument between Carmen and Elliot isn’t exactly enough for me to lock Elliot up. There were no witnesses at the restaurant to say Elliot made threats against Carmen’s life. He was merely upset, as most people would be.”

  I said quietly, “By the way, I heard something else. Were you aware Carmen and the mayor were having an affair?”

  Burton nodded. “A neighbor mentioned it to me. Apparently though, not many people know about it. Although you seem to.” He raised his eyebrows. “I guess the library really is an information hub.”

  Burton glanced around and continued in a carefully casual voice, “Say, is Luna around?”

  I wasn’t sure if I should keep pretending I didn’t know Burton was interested in Luna or call him on it. So I said, “I think she’s on her break, but she should be out soon. Want me to send her over your way?”

  Burton hemmed and hawed for a moment and then looked helplessly at me. “You don’t think Luna had anything to do with Carmen, do you?”

  Chapter Eleven

  I blinked at him. Here I’d been thinking he was wanting to see Luna for personal reasons and he was worried about the case.

  “What makes you ask?”

  He shook his head dismissively. “It’s nothing. Just a feeling I got right after you both found Carmen. I got the impression she was holding something back from me.”

  I said staunchly, “No way. For one thing, Luna is a terrible liar. She doesn’t appear to have the capacity to deceive anyone at all. And I don’t think she has a violent bone in her body. She’s always looking out for animals and won’t even kill insects. She’s a vegan. I just can’t imagine a vegan as a killer.”

  Burton looked a little less certain that vegans couldn’t be murderers, but he still seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He gave me a quick look and then glanced away. “Okay, thanks. I’m sure you’re right. There was something else I wanted to ask you, too. You don’t happen to know if Luna is dating anyone, do you?”

  I hid a smile and said, “I know for a fact she’s not.”

  Now Burton’s relief seemed even greater. “That’s good. Even if it’s a little surprising. I’m sure she’s probably really picky about who she would go out with.” His forehead puckered at the thought.

  “Well, I think she looks out for herself, of course. But the truth is she’s been really wrapped up with work and trying to get more engagement with teens at the library. And her mom keeps her busy, too.”

  Burton leaned in a little. “Engagement with teens? That’s something my department is interested in, too. What kind of program is she thinking about?”

  I said carefully, “It’s nothing that’s been approved by our director yet, at least as far as I’m aware. But Luna’s really eage
r to host a study hall type event so kids can think of the library as a good place to get their work done. And, I guess, a relaxing and fun place too, because she wants to have snacks there and things like that.”

  Burton nodded. “Good ideas. Maybe it’s something the police department could collaborate on: maybe we could even contribute to the cost of the food and drinks. We want to have an event to show the local police in a friendly light. I could speak to the director about it.”

  If the police were involved in the event, I was sure there would be absolutely no food fight happening. I said, “It would probably be good to speak with Luna first because I’m not sure she’s approached Wilson yet about it. Then maybe the two of you could talk to him together.”

  Burton looked relieved. “Great idea, Ann. Thanks. And thanks for all the info.” He hurried out the door with a backward look toward the children’s area.

  That night, I took Fitz home with me again just to have his company. He was, as always, the perfect guest—he contentedly watched me cook spaghetti for supper as if my work at the stove was fascinating (he was rewarded with a little bit of ground beef). Then he curled up next to me on the sofa as I struggled through my chapter (in this book, they’re called ‘episodes’) of Ulysses before picking up my September book in relief. When I turned in, he silently jumped up on the other side of my queen-sized bed and politely gave me plenty of space as he curled up in a ball with his fluffy tail covering his face and purred loudly until we both fell asleep.

  The next morning, I awoke with a start. Had I remembered to tell Wilson about Tanya James’s request? I’d meant to, but then I’d gotten either pulled into helping a patron or into the Ask Fitz column. I squinted at the clock. I certainly wasn’t going to call Wilson at six o’clock, although I knew he was probably up. He was probably already ensconced in his suit, for heaven’s sake. I decided I could let him know once I got there. Because it was Tanya, he definitely wasn’t going to reject her request.