No Cats Allowed

by Miranda James

  While I ate my delicious meal, and occasionally gave attention to the always-famished feline by my leg, I mulled over the prank played on Oscar. Surely there were other possibilities besides my library colleagues.

  Besides my library colleagues. Of course, you idiot.

  Why did the culprit have to be a library staff member? Why couldn’t it be someone from the finance office, where Oscar had been working before he was transferred?

  SEVEN

  Yes, I decided, I shouldn’t limit the suspects to library staff. Surely, unless his current behavior was a bizarre aberration, he had caused similar turmoil among the staff in the financial department.

  I did not know anyone personally who worked in that area, however. Even though I knew it was Chief Ford’s job to uncover the culprit, I couldn’t help my overlarge bump of curiosity. I wouldn’t call it overlarge myself, but Sean and Laura often did.

  Then I remembered Melba saying she intended to scrape up an acquaintance with a young woman who worked in the finance office. Perhaps she wouldn’t go through with that, however, since she planned to file a complaint.

  After I finished my meal, I cleaned up the small mess I’d made and put my dishes and utensils in the dishwasher. I checked my watch and saw that I had another four hours to wait before I could call Helen Louise. I didn’t like to call her at work and usually waited until I figured she was home. That meant not until ten. The bistro closed at nine, and Helen Louise and her staff had to balance out the registers and perform a few other tasks before they all went home.

  Television didn’t appeal, and I had plenty of books, so I headed upstairs with Diesel to read. Soon my cat and I lay in comfort on the bed. Diesel stretched out beside me, head on his own pillow. His eyes regarded me groggily for a few minutes while I read. Then he fell asleep.

  I awoke later when the insistent ringing of my cell phone roused me. I put aside the book that had lain across my chest and fumbled for the phone. My eyes registered the time, ten fifteen, and the caller’s number a moment before I answered.

  “Hello, love.” I couldn’t hold back a yawn.

  “You fell asleep reading again, didn’t you?” I could hear the smile in Helen Louise’s voice. “I figured you had when you didn’t call right on the dot at ten.”

  “Yes, I did, sorry. Told myself that for once I wasn’t going to do it.”

  Diesel was awake now, too, because he knew that one of his favorite humans was talking to me. He warbled.

  “Diesel sends his greetings,” I said.

  “I heard,” Helen Louise replied. “Scratch his head for me. How was your day, love?”

  “Eventful,” I said. “Nothing earth-shattering, so no need to worry. I’ll fill you in on the details tomorrow night.” We had plans for dinner, just the two of us. Diesel warbled again, as if to remind me that there would be three, not two.

  Helen Louise laughed, a sound I loved. “No need. Melba came by on her way home from your house to pick up dinner. She filled me in on all of it.”

  “I hope she didn’t alarm you over any of this,” I said.

  “She didn’t alarm me, but naturally I’m concerned,” she said. “I find it curious that he waited this long to complain about Diesel. Surely, if he were that allergic, he would have mentioned it the first day.”

  “Of course he would,” I said. “Another reason I’m sure he’s lying about it. He claims he’s getting proof from his doctor, but whatever the so-called doctor says, I won’t believe it. The man apparently lives to antagonize people.”

  “Sounds to me like one or both of his oars aren’t hitting the water.” Helen Louise laughed again. “I’m curious now to see this guy for myself.”

  “I don’t have any plans to introduce you,” I said in a wry tone. “I’ve applied for a leave of absence from the archive, but since Oscar has to approve it, I doubt I’ll get it. I may end up quitting so I don’t have to put up with his craziness.”

  “I’d hate to see you quit a job you love so much. I want you to stay busy so you don’t have time to run around town, chasing other women.” She laughed.

  “Oh, I could fit it in if I really wanted to,” I said in an arch tone. “But why do that when I’ve already found you?”

  She laughed again, and after that, the conversation turned a bit soppy, as Sean would have called it during his teenage years. A few minutes later we said good night, I turned out the light, and Diesel and I went back to sleep, me with a huge smile.

  The next morning, after a delicious breakfast cooked and served by Azalea, I decided to take Diesel for a morning walk. This wasn’t one of my workdays at the archive, and I felt restless. Diesel chirped happily when he saw the harness and leash in my hands. He enjoyed these little rambles as much as I did, for we invariably ran into at least one or two of his admirers in the neighborhood.

  The air had a cool, crisp edge to it, and I wore a light jacket as we started out. I would probably shed it before we returned home. Diesel liked to trot along at first, eager to encounter his friends, and I had to walk briskly to keep up.

  By habit, Diesel turned onto the sidewalk in the direction of the college. I thought about turning to go the other way, but I decided I wasn’t going to let the possibility of an encounter with Oscar spoil our morning. I checked my watch—a few minutes past nine. Oscar should be safely in his office by now.

  We met two neighbors along the way, and I stopped to chat while Diesel received the attention he enjoyed. By the time we neared the campus and the library administration building, it was almost nine thirty. Now a bit too warm, I shed my jacket and slung it over my shoulder. Diesel continued toward the library building, because we didn’t usually come this way unless we were headed for work.

  “Not today, boy.” I halted, and Diesel stopped to look up at me with what I called his interrogative expression. “We’re not working today.” He meowed in disapproval. He was no doubt eager to go inside to see his buddy Melba.

  In my peripheral vision I caught a blur of motion. I turned my head slightly to observe a tall man extricating himself gingerly from a small car.

  He had to be the man Melba talked about yesterday. I had forgotten about him until now, but, my curiosity piqued, I started walking toward the library, even though I knew it would confuse the cat.

  “Good morning,” I called out when Diesel and I were about ten feet away from where the man stood by his car. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

  Evidently startled, the man whipped his head in my direction, his expression confused at first. Confusion quickly turned to blandness, however. “Good morning to you, and to your companion. Yes, it is a beautiful day.” He leaned back against the car and crossed his arms over his chest. He continued to regard Diesel and me—warily, I thought—as we moved to within five feet of him.

  Closer up, I realized the stranger—clearly a Yankee, by his accent—had to be at least six foot seven. I felt a bit puny in contrast, though I was by no means a small man. The stranger had broad, muscular shoulders, with upper arms that strained against the tight fabric of his cotton shirt. He had a vaguely menacing air about him, though I couldn’t determine why I felt that way. Perhaps it was simply his size. I had seldom seen so big a man in the flesh.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around campus before,” I said in my best chatty manner. I thought giving him the impression of a dotty Southerner might disarm him enough to let something slip. “I work in the building right there, but today is one of my days off.”

  I caught the direction of his gaze and went on. “This is my Maine Coon, Diesel. He goes to work with me. Actually, I take him with me almost everywhere. Do you like cats?”

  Startled, the man raised his eyes to mine. “Not so much. I’m more of a dog person, I guess. He’s really big. Shouldn’t he be on a diet?”

  “No, he isn’t overweight. Well, maybe only a pound or two,” I admitte
d. “Maine Coons are big cats, although Diesel is much bigger than the average male.”

  The object of the conversation remained by my leg. His usual practice was to approach a stranger and sniff, then wait to be petted. When he hung back like this, I knew it meant there was something about the person that put him off. My cat was an excellent judge of character, and I decided I should heed his judgment.

  “So am I.” The stranger guffawed. “Bigger than the average male, I mean.” He flexed his shoulders and stared down at me.

  Was that meant as a warning? Or was he simply showing off his superior size and musculature?

  He had made no attempt to answer my question, I realized, so I created another opportunity.

  “If you’ve never been on campus before,” I said in a fatuously pleasant tone, “Diesel and I would be happy to show you around. In addition to working here, I’m also an alumnus.” I held out a hand. “I’m Charlie Harris.”

  The stranger eyed me for a moment, then stuck out his hand. “Porter Stanley. Thanks, but I don’t need a tour.”

  That’s something, I thought. At least I have a name.

  Then Stanley appeared to reconsider. “Tell you what, though, I wouldn’t mind seeing inside that building.” With a jerk of his head, he indicated the administration building. “I really like antebellum architecture, and I never pass up the chance to see inside old places like this.”

  “I’ll be happy to show you.” I wondered how Melba would react when she saw me bringing her mysterious and menacing stranger into the building. “Come on, Diesel, let’s show the nice man where we work.” I turned toward the building and didn’t wait to see whether Stanley followed me.

  I launched into a history of the building as I headed up the steps to the verandah. I felt Stanley’s presence beside me. I paused on the verandah to point out a few features before I opened the front door and motioned for him to precede the cat and me. He had to duck his head to enter, and his massive frame filled the doorway.

  Inside I chattered away about the staircase, the antique carpets and furniture in the entrance, and the hallway. I saw that the door to Melba’s office stood open, as usual, though she wasn’t there. Then I remembered she had an appointment this morning with Penny Sisson, to file her complaint. I really would have liked to see her reaction to Porter Stanley, but there might be another opportunity.

  Stanley nodded now and then during my peroration on the house, and to my surprise he didn’t look bored. He appeared to be taking in the details with considerable interest. Perhaps he really was fascinated by antebellum architecture.

  Diesel remained silent. He made a couple of attempts to go up the stairs but I called him back. “Our office is upstairs,” I said. “He thinks we’re here to work today, but it’s actually my day off.”

  Stanley nodded. He pointed toward Melba’s door. “What’s in there?”

  “The outer part of it is the office of the administrative assistant to the library director,” I said. “She must be off from work today. She and Diesel are big buddies, and she would have been out here to see him the moment she spotted us.”

  Stanley didn’t respond to that. “What else? Another office in there?”

  I nodded. “Yes, the library director’s office is there, too. The room next to it.” I wasn’t eager to see Oscar myself, but I was too curious to see Stanley’s reaction if the two men did meet. “He’s probably in his office. Would you like to meet him?”

  Stanley shrugged. “Why not?” He appeared not to be particularly interested in Oscar, but I still wondered.

  “Let’s go knock on his door,” I said. “Come on, Diesel.” We headed into Melba’s office, and the cat sniffed and looked around for his friend. The door into Oscar’s office stood slightly ajar. As we moved nearer, I heard voices emanating from it. I heard Oscar’s usual rumble, followed by the strident tones of a voice I recognized all too well.

  The head of the library’s collection development and acquisitions unit, Cassandra—“Don’t ever call me Cass”—Brownley rarely spoke in anything other than an irritable tone. I had never known anyone who always appeared to be annoyed at something, but Cassandra invariably seemed to be. I wasn’t in the least surprised to hear her arguing with Oscar.

  I turned to Stanley with an apologetic expression. “I think we should continue our tour and come back a bit later. The director appears to be in a meeting.” Diesel had shrunk back against me. He hated arguments, especially one as loud and apparently rancorous as this one. I couldn’t make out the words, but I could tell Cassandra was mighty upset over something.

  “Okay,” Stanley said with a speculative glance toward Oscar’s door.

  Before we had moved three feet toward the hallway, I heard Oscar’s door bang against the wall. I turned to see Cassandra storming out. She did not acknowledge the fact that two men and a cat were in the room. She pushed past us in an apparent fury, and seconds later I heard the front door open and then slam.

  Stanley quirked one eyebrow at me. “Looks like he’s free now.”

  He seemed intent on meeting Oscar. I wasn’t keen on seeing my boss right after such a tempestuous meeting, but I was curious to see what happened when the two men met. “Sure, let’s go in.”

  I headed back toward Oscar’s office, a reluctant Diesel in tow. Stanley followed right behind us. I walked into the room to see Oscar smiling broadly. That smile vanished the moment he saw me. Then his eyes moved past me and focused on the larger man behind me.

  Oscar paled and stood on shaky legs. “What the hell are you doing here, Porter?”

  EIGHT

  I wasn’t sure what I had really expected from bringing Porter Stanley and Oscar together, but I didn’t think Oscar would react as though he was terrified.

  Stanley moved past me to approach Oscar’s desk. Though Stanley paused about three feet away, Oscar backed up against the built-in bookshelves behind him as if he were trying to climb into the wall to get away.

  I moved back a couple of paces, making sure Diesel was behind me. Then I pulled out my cell phone in case I needed to call the campus police. I was afraid Stanley might attack Oscar by the way my boss had reacted.

  “Aw, now, is that any way to greet an old buddy?” Stanley sounded amused. “You can do better than that, Oscar.”

  Oscar’s voice sounded higher than usual when he spoke. “Why are you here, Porter?”

  “I don’t think that’s anything you want to discuss in front of your coworker here, is it?” Stanley made himself comfortable in one of the two chairs Oscar kept near his desk for visitors.

  Oscar’s glance flicked nervously in my direction. “Um, no, I guess not. You can leave, Charlie.”

  “If you’re sure everything is okay,” I said. Stanley had his back to me, and I held up my cell phone so Oscar could see it clearly. I mimed punching in three digits. He gave a slight shake of the head. “Okay, then, Diesel and I will resume our morning walk. Nice meeting you, Stanley.”

  The big man didn’t acknowledge me. All his attention appeared focused on Oscar, who showed no signs of relaxing. He still stood with his back pressed against the shelves.

  Stanley spoke in a firm tone. “Sit down, Oscar.”

  Oscar sat, though he continued to eye his erstwhile friend warily.

  I turned and walked out. Diesel scampered ahead of me, eager to be out of the tension-filled room. I couldn’t blame him. I was glad to be out of it myself, though part of me wanted to eavesdrop on the conversation.

  I stopped and turned, trying to decide whether to sneak back, but before I could make up my mind, Oscar’s door shut. Given the thickness of the walls and the door, I knew I had little chance to overhear anything now, so I led Diesel out of Melba’s office and back out to the street.

  We hadn’t made it twenty feet down the sidewalk toward home when I heard Melba hail me. I turned, and Diesel almost j
erked the leash out of my hand. He was that eager to see Melba. I held firm, though, and we walked back slowly toward her.

  “Morning, boys,” Melba said with a bright smile. She scratched Diesel’s head as he rubbed against her leg and meowed.

  “Good morning to you, too. You sound pretty cheerful. Did your meeting with Penny go well?”

  Melba nodded. “Yes, it sure did. I filed that complaint, and now I feel fine. Penny told me from now on I should call her the minute Oscar gets nasty over anything.” She nodded in the direction of the building. “Why don’t y’all come in with me, and let’s have some coffee?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” I said.

  “Why?” Melba looked startled. “Don’t tell me you’ve had another run-in with him this morning.”

  “Not exactly.” I filled her in on the encounter with her mysterious stranger and his meeting with Oscar.

  Her eyes widened at first, then she grinned when I finished. “Maybe this Stanley guy will solve the problem for us. If he beats Oscar up real bad, he won’t be able to annoy the rest of us.”

  “Melba, surely you don’t mean that?” I was a bit shocked at her bloodthirstiness, though I had to admit she had provocation.

  She rolled her eyes. “No, I don’t really want anyone to beat Oscar up that bad, but I wouldn’t mind if this guy scared the daylights out of him. Maybe after this he’ll be too shaken up to bother me or anybody else.” She laughed. “Once he finds out I’ve filed a complaint, he really ought to calm down.”

  “I don’t think he’ll be a problem much longer, frankly. He’ll have to behave properly because of the complaints, or he could lose his position.” I paused for a moment to consider that. “Once all this gets to the vice president for finance and the president himself, I imagine he could get fired right away.”

  “I hope so,” Melba said. “That would be the best outcome for the library, that’s for dang sure.”