Diesel meowed again, and I saw Azalea’s lips twitch. She pretended most of the time not to be amused by his attempts at conversation, but I knew that secretly she got a kick out of him. I had overheard her chatting to him numerous times when she didn’t realize I was nearby. She spoiled him every bit as much as I did. I was wise enough not to point that out, however.
“Well, you know, Azalea, that’s what cats are for.” I laughed. “And at least he tells you thank you, don’t you, boy?”
Diesel warbled, and this time Azalea smiled. She shook her head. “Ain’t got time to be standing here talking to a cat. I’ll be back in about an hour.”
Diesel followed her to the back door, and for a moment I thought he planned to go out with her. He sat and watched the door close, though, and stared at it for a moment. He then got up and padded back to me. I rubbed his head, and he purred.
After all the unrest at the library because of Oscar Reilly, I was grateful to be in my quiet home with my devoted feline friend. Now that I was a couple of years past the half-century mark, I appreciated all this even more. I had two wonderful children, a grandchild on the way thanks to my daughter and son-in-law, and a loving partner in Helen Louise.
Don’t get maudlin, I told myself mock-seriously. Time you were up and doing something else.
But what? I didn’t have any matter that needed my immediate attention. The problem of Oscar Reilly seemed to be on its way to a solution, I figured. Diesel and I should be able to go back to the archive tomorrow without interference or unpleasantness. Things could settle back into their nice, predictable routine.
I decided I might as well finish the book I was reading, Sharon Kay Penman’s Lionheart, about Richard I of England. I loved richly detailed historical fiction, and no one did it better than Penman. Immersing myself in the twelfth century for an hour or two would be a good tonic for the upsets of the past couple of days.
“Let’s go upstairs and read,” I said to Diesel. He chirped in response. He understood what I meant, and while I read, he would nap on the bed beside me. And if I dozed off, too, well, that would be fine. I would have a late night with Helen Louise probably, and a little snooze now wouldn’t hurt.
When my cell phone rang about half an hour later, I was deep in the twelfth century, and it took me a moment to emerge. I picked up the phone, noted that Sean was the caller, and answered.
“Hey, Dad,” he said. “Hope you’re not too busy at the moment. I need you to come over to the office for a little while.”
There was an odd note in his voice, and I couldn’t tell whether he was worried about something, or simply nervous.
“No, I’m reading, but I can get back to the book later.” I sat up on the side of the bed. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”
“Yes, everything’s fine,” he said. “Don’t worry. But I need to talk to you, and I can’t get away from the office right this minute.”
“I’ll be on my way in a few.” Before I could continue, he ended the call.
I set the phone down on the bedside table and turned to look at my sleepy cat. “Sean is being mysterious,” I told him. “He’s up to something, but I have no idea what. We’re going to his office, boy, so wake up.”
Diesel yawned and stretched while I put on my shoes. I went in the bathroom to brush my hair and freshen up, and a few minutes later we were in the car on the way to downtown Athena.
The law offices of Pendergrast and Harris occupied one floor of a Civil War–era building on the square. I found a parking place in front, and as I was getting Diesel out of the backseat, I noticed a familiar car a couple of spaces away.
“Looks like Laura is here, too, boy,” I said. Diesel perked up at the mention of her name. He adored Laura, and she him. I wondered how my boy was going to react, however, when the grandchild arrived. He would have competition for Laura’s attention.
We stepped out of the elevator on the second floor, and the office manager, Laquita Henderson, greeted Diesel and me with her usual perky smile. “Hey, there, Mr. Harris. Diesel, you’re handsome as ever.”
Diesel happily let the attractive young woman scratch his head, and he warbled for her.
“What’s all this about?” I asked. “Sean wouldn’t tell me anything.”
Laquita laughed. “Can’t say a word, or I’d be in trouble. Y’all go on into Sean’s office, and he’ll tell you.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling suddenly anxious. “Come on, Diesel.”
Sean’s office lay a few yards down the corridor and faced the square. His door was open, and Diesel and I walked in. There was no sign of Laura, however.
“Hello, Son,” I said. “What’s all this mystery?”
Sean looked up from his desk, and his expression was enigmatic. “Close the door, Dad, if you don’t mind, and then have a seat.”
While I complied with his request, he came around from behind his desk and perched on a corner near the chair I chose. He patted Diesel for a moment, then he faced me squarely.
“Alexandra and I are getting married this morning.” The words tumbled out. “We found out yesterday she’s having a baby, and we decided we should get married right away.”
TWELVE
I stared blankly at my son. Two words kept echoing in my brain—baby and married.
“I know you would have preferred that we were married before there was any sign of a baby.” Sean wore a defensive expression I had seen often during his teenage years when he had to admit to behavior or an action he knew I wouldn’t condone. Not that it happened all that often, because he had been a mostly well-behaved teenager.
I was rather old-fashioned in that way. I would have liked them to be married before they contemplated having a child, but there was no point in repining over it now.
I was going to have another grandchild, not to mention a smart, capable, and beautiful daughter-in-law. That was all that really mattered.
“Congratulations, Son.” I stood and smiled at him. “I’m very happy for you and Alexandra. And Laura and Frank’s baby will have a cousin to grow up with.”
Diesel trilled and chirped in response to the excitement he felt coming from me. Sean’s face broke into a broad grin, and he hugged me tight. “Thanks, Dad,” he said, his voice husky.
I thought of his mother and how happy she would be over the news of another grandchild. For a moment my eyes misted over. How I wished she were here to share in the excitement.
Sean released me, and we smiled at each other. I started to ask when the baby was due but decided that could wait. At the moment it would hardly be tactful to inquire.
“I have a favor to ask,” Sean said. “Will you be my best man?”
“I’d be honored,” I said around the sudden, large lump in my throat. “Where is the wedding taking place?”
“In the conference room,” Sean said. “Everyone is waiting for us. Judge Howell is going to perform the ceremony.”
“Really? I haven’t seen her in a long time. We went to school together, you know,” I said as Diesel and I followed Sean from his office and down the hall to the spacious conference room.
The first person I saw when we entered was Alexandra, my soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Her anxious expression disappeared when she saw my beaming face. I moved forward and swept her into a strong embrace.
“Welcome to the family,” I said. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“Thank you, Charlie,” she said. Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Sean and I are so excited. This isn’t the way we’d planned things to go, but, well, here we are.” She smiled and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Diesel naturally had to add his congratulations and meowed loudly. Alex laughed and rubbed his head with great affection.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Dad?”
I turned to see my beautiful daughter, heavily pregnant, approaching. Her husband, Frank Salisb
ury, hovered anxiously behind her. He hardly wanted to let her out of his sight, Laura had told me, until the baby came. She still had about two months to go before little Charles Franklin Salisbury entered the world.
We hugged, and I shook Frank’s hand. I glanced about to see who else was here. Azalea sat at one end of the table, chatting with the judge, Deborah Howell, with whom I’d gone through elementary school, high school, and college. I was glad that an old friend was performing the ceremony.
There was no sign, however, of Alexandra’s father, a near-legendary figure in Mississippi legal circles.
“Where’s Q.C.?” I asked Sean.
He laughed and shook his head. “In the Australian outback with a few of his cronies. We tried calling him this morning but he’s inaccessible. We thought about waiting until he’s home again, but that won’t be for another couple of weeks.”
Since he had mostly retired from the law practice, Q.C. spent a lot of time traveling these days. He would spend a month or two in Athena, and then he’d be off again on another adventure. After all the years he’d spent working so hard, he deserved the leisure he found in retirement. I envied him a little. I would love to travel to all the places he had been in recent months—Turkey, Greece, Peru, Chile, and now Australia.
“We invited Helen Louise,” Sean said. “Unfortunately, she’s shorthanded and can’t be here.”
I felt a sharp pang of disappointment. I knew Helen Louise wouldn’t be happy, either, having to miss an occasion like this. One of her part-time workers had probably failed to show up for work, I figured.
Judge Howell approached us. “Hello, Charlie. Great to see you again. I’ve heard about some of your exploits.” She grinned at me, no doubt remembering some of our mutual exploits in elementary school when we both got in trouble for talking too much in class.
I smiled. “It’s great to see you too, Debby. You ended up on the right side of the law, I see.” I winked at her.
She laughed heartily at that. “I was always late returning my books to the library. I remember how you used to fuss. I should have known you’d become a librarian.”
“Of course,” I said.
She squeezed my arm affectionately. “Enough reminiscing for now. We can catch up more later. Now it’s time for me to marry these two wonderful young people.” She beamed at Alex and Sean.
Under the judge’s direction, we assembled ourselves properly for the ceremony. Laura served as matron of honor, and I as best man. Frank, Azalea, and Laquita stood in the background.
The actual ceremony was brief, and I watched through misty eyes as my handsome son was joined in wedlock to his beautiful wife. I felt the presence of my late wife, Jackie, hovering at my shoulder. I knew how happy she would be to see this day.
After the vows were complete, Azalea stepped forward and began to sing. Her rich contralto poured forth with “Amazing Grace” and I was stunned at the beauty of it. I had heard her singing and humming around the house, but I had never heard her sing like this. I was moved by it, and by the belief and passion with which she sang. I don’t think there was a dry eye among us by the time she finished the final verse.
After the last, haunting note evaporated, we all stood for a moment. Then Sean and Alex thanked her and each kissed her on the cheek. Azalea beamed with pleasure.
As Laura, Frank, and Laquita congratulated the happy couple, I approached Azalea.
“Thank you,” I said. “That was beautiful.”
“You’re welcome,” she said with a brief smile. “I pray the Lord will bless them and their child.”
“Did you know about this when you left the house earlier?” I asked. “You said you were going to the grocery store.”
Azalea shook her head. “They called me after I was at the store. I’ll have to go back and get everything.”
I nodded. “Thank you again for your song. You made this an even more memorable occasion.”
“I wish I could have had more time, and I’d’ve had something to bring for a reception.” She glanced at the conference table, bare of any kind of food or drink.
“I guess they didn’t think about a reception,” I said. “We can have a nice dinner later to celebrate.”
Sean must have overheard me. “We are planning a party, but we want to wait until Q.C. is back in town. So it won’t be for at least a couple of weeks.”
“Excellent,” I said. “I know there are a lot of people who will be happy to celebrate with you and Alex.”
I moved on to chat for a few minutes with Debby, who seemed to be enjoying petting and admiring Diesel. He accepted all the attention as his due, and he rewarded his new acolyte with warbles and chirps.
“Where did you ever find this beautiful animal?” Debby asked, and I told her the story of finding Diesel in the shrubbery at the public library.
“I’ve heard he goes everywhere with you,” she said. “You’re lucky to have such a steadfast companion.”
“Yes, I am,” I said. “He came into my life at a time when I needed one. We’ve been good for each other.”
We talked for a few minutes more, then Debby said she was due back in court. The party broke up quickly after that. Frank and Laura both had afternoon classes to teach, and Sean and Alex had client meetings.
After more hugs and congratulations to my son and his wife, I led Diesel out to the car. Once he was in the backseat, I reached in my pocket for my cell phone. I wanted to check on Melba and to let her know the exciting news. I hoped she had followed through on my advice to go home and stay out of Reilly’s way.
No cell phone.
I frowned, then patted down the other pants pocket. No phone. I checked my jacket.
Still no phone.
Then I thought about when I’d last had it in my hands, and I could see myself setting it down on the nightstand after talking to Sean. I was probably so worried by his summons to his office that I completely forgot about it.
I’d call when I got home, I decided as I got behind the wheel. For a moment I thought about swinging by Helen Louise’s bistro, but I realized she would be too busy—it was eleven thirty-seven—with the lunch crowd to talk.
On the short drive home I thought about the new grandchild. Would it be another boy, or a girl? I hoped for the latter, since Laura and Frank were having a boy. I would be happy no matter what, as long as both babies were healthy. Laura was due in about two months, and I reckoned Alex was probably due in another six to seven months. I would find out later.
I forgot to ask Sean and Alex whether they would be taking a honeymoon. Probably not until Alex’s father returned, I reckoned.
When I turned the corner onto my street, I spotted a familiar car parked in front of my house. What was Melba doing here? I hoped nothing was wrong.
I pulled the car into the garage and let Diesel out. We walked out into the driveway to meet Melba. She had a fierce expression as she approached us.
“Where the heck have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve been calling your house and your cell phone for the past hour.”
I started to explain, but she rushed on before I could get out more than three words.
“You’re not going to believe this.” She looked as angry as I had ever seen her. “The president didn’t fire Reilly, or even put him back in the financial affairs office. Instead, he’s reassigning me. To the philosophy and religious studies department. I’m about ready to wring somebody’s neck.” She paused for a quick breath, then delivered another bombshell. “Reilly’s planning to sell off the rare book collection and get rid of the archives, too.”
THIRTEEN
I could hardly take in what Melba had said. I had been so sure that the president would decide Reilly wasn’t working out. I shook my head.
“Yes, it’s true,” Melba said.
“I believe you,” I replied. “Look, let’s go inside and
talk about this. I don’t know about you, but I need to sit down and try to absorb it.”
Diesel had been trying to gain Melba’s attention. I knew he was alarmed by her obvious distress, but at the moment she was too agitated to notice him.
“Come on, boy, in the house.” I led the way into the garage and unlocked the door to the kitchen. I ushered Melba in, along with the cat, and closed the door after hitting the switch to shut the garage door.
Melba had finally realized that Diesel was beside her. She dropped into a chair by the table and leaned over to hug him. She muttered a few words that I couldn’t catch, and Diesel meowed in response. I took my usual spot at the table and waited for Melba to finish communing with Diesel.
When at last she let go of the cat and turned to look at me, I saw that her face was streaked with tears.
“Can I get you a drink?” I thought for a moment. “Sean probably has a few beers in the fridge, and I think there’s a bottle of scotch left over from last Christmas.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind some hot coffee,” Melba said. “If that’s not too much trouble.”
“Sounds good to me, too.” I got up to make the coffee. “Why don’t you tell me how you found out about your being transferred, and Reilly’s plans to sell the rare book collection.”
“In an e-mail.” Melba sounded outraged again. “One that I wasn’t even supposed to see, but that idiot Reilly wasn’t paying attention when he addressed it. It was supposed to go to a Melissa Gibson, as far as I can tell.”
“He probably typed in the first two or three letters of your name and didn’t bother to check,” I said. “Who is Melissa Gibson, do you know?”
“I searched the college directory, and she works in the financial affairs office,” Melba replied. “I don’t know her, but I’d be willing to bet she’s young, blond, and stacked. That’s probably what Reilly wants in the office with him, and not someone who actually knows the job.”
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