No Cats Allowed

by Miranda James

  “We’ve had problems with turnover in her department for years,” Delbert said. “Her staff doesn’t like her, and she’s rude to them all the time.”

  “If she’s so unhappy here, why hasn’t she looked for another job?” I asked. “She might stand a better chance elsewhere.”

  Delbert emitted a short bark of laughter. “She has looked, even gone for a few interviews, but nobody else will hire her. Can you imagine that she’s any more pleasant when she interviews than she is on a daily basis here?” He grimaced. “She just doesn’t get it.”

  “Thank you for the background information,” I said. “I’m going to have to talk to her about her behavior, and it’s good to know the history. Now, on to other matters. I need to get up to speed on what’s going on in your departments. What I’d like is to have a meeting with each of you, separately, to go over your budgets, any personnel issues you might have, and discuss any concerns you and your staff have. I want to understand the workflow in your areas, too, so information on that will be helpful. This is the end of the week, and I’m not expecting you to pull everything together today. How about Wednesday?”

  “That’s fine with me,” Lisa said. Delbert nodded.

  “Excellent,” I said. “If you will, e-mail Melba and set up a time. I don’t know offhand what my schedule might be for Wednesday, but she will get it sorted out. Now, before we get back to work, is there anything you’d like to ask?”

  “How detailed do you want the budget information to be?” Delbert asked. “I mean, I’ve got spreadsheets like you wouldn’t believe, thanks to Reilly, who wanted the same information presented seventeen different ways.” He snorted. “I think he did it just to be difficult.”

  Lisa nodded. “I’ve never spent so much time on a budget in my life.”

  Was Reilly being purposely difficult? I wondered. Or was he hoping to find discrepancies, evidence of financial malfeasance? I kept those thoughts to myself when I answered.

  “I’d like to see your most recent figures, with expenses to date for the year, plus, let’s say, the last three years. Can you pull that together by Wednesday?”

  Both Lisa and Delbert nodded.

  “Thanks very much.” I rose. “I know that, with your help, we’ll get through the next few months in good fashion. I’ll be on the search committee for the new director, and I’m hopeful we’ll find someone outstanding.”

  “That would be a nice change,” Delbert said. “See you later.” He loped off, and Lisa, after a quick smile, followed him out of the room.

  I stared at the wall for a moment. I didn’t relish my next task, but I couldn’t put it off. I had to talk to Cassandra and let her know I was not going to tolerate her behavior. I had dealt with recalcitrant employees before, and though I didn’t like confrontations, I also wouldn’t shrink from one, especially in cases like this.

  I picked up my briefcase and wended my way through the public areas to the staff-only section in the southeast corner of the building. The librarians’ offices formed a row against the outside wall. The wall of each office facing the common area was floor-to-ceiling glass, and that allowed the occupants to see the activity in the staff cubicles and work areas. I spotted Cassandra, phone to her ear, and I headed for her office. I smiled and greeted staff members as I passed.

  I knocked on Cassandra’s closed door, then opened it without waiting for an invitation to enter. I was determined to have the upper hand and keep it. If this action put her off balance, all the better.

  Cassandra glared when I walked in.

  “I’ll have to call you back,” she said, then hung up the phone.

  I stopped in front of her desk and stared down at her.

  “Forrest Wyatt asked me to serve as interim director of this library,” I said. “I agreed to do it, and however long I hold this position, I expect complete cooperation from every single staff member in the library. I will not tolerate anything else, and I will not tolerate the kind of behavior you exhibited a few minutes ago. If there are any further incidents like that, then you and I will be sitting down with Penny Sisson in HR and deciding what action to take. I will be going through all the personnel files and examining performance appraisals, staff turnover, and budgets in minute detail. I will not tolerate any obstacles.”

  Cassandra looked shell-shocked, and I had to wonder whether anyone had ever stood up to her bullying behavior. I doubted Peter had. He shrank from confrontation much more than I did and was inclined to let problems fester until they became worse. I wasn’t fond of confrontation, either, but in my management roles in Houston I’d had to be tough on occasion.

  “I will be meeting with you on Wednesday to go over your budget, your staff, and any ongoing issues in your department that need attention. Please e-mail Melba to arrange a time. I don’t know yet what my schedule for that day will be, but I expect to see your appointment with me on it by the end of the day. Is that clear?”

  Cassandra nodded, then opened her mouth to speak.

  “I don’t believe there’s anything else I have to say at the moment, and I know you have work that needs attention, so I will let you get on with it. Have a good day.” With that, I turned and walked out of her office.

  I realized I had forgotten to close her door behind me when I went in, and obviously some of the staff in nearby cubicles had overheard everything. I was aggravated with myself for the lapse, but also amused to see the miming of applause from several people as I walked by.

  During the time it took for me to wend my way through the library and back to my office in the other building, I worked on cooling my temper down. I despised bullying in any form, and that’s what Cassandra was basically: a bully. She used her rudeness and blatant contempt for other people to bulldoze her way through things. When she didn’t get what she wanted, she had no idea why she didn’t get it. I had dealt with her kind before in the workplace, and they had all moved on. I could be unbelievably stubborn over some things, and this was one of them. She would not persist in this behavior. She would either learn to behave properly and professionally, or she could find a job elsewhere.

  Back in the office, I found Melba filing and Diesel lolling on the carpet near her. “How’s it going?” I asked. There was no sign of Kanesha and her department. The campus policeman remained on duty near the front door, though.

  Diesel chirped happily at the sight of me and got up to come rub against my legs. I scratched his head, and he meowed in pleasure.

  “Not bad,” Melba said. “Fortunately the idiot got interrupted before he could dump all the files on the floor, only about a third of them.” She waved a hand to indicate the cleared floor. “I’ve got most of them sorted, and I’m filing them. I should be done by lunchtime.”

  “Good,” I said. “I’m going to be working on the files in my office.”

  “No need.” Melba smiled. “I started in there and got everything sorted and filed. I printed a copy of your schedule for today and next week, and it’s on your desk. The IT person has set things up so you can access all the files you need, and given you access to Peter’s and Reilly’s e-mail accounts.”

  “I’ll be drowning in information,” I said wryly. “Speaking of which, I’d like to take a look at the personnel files we have on the department heads.” I told her about the meetings I wanted set up for next week.

  “You’re in luck,” she said. “Those files were in the group that the idiot didn’t get to. I’ll pull them and bring them in to you in a minute. There’s fresh coffee, if you’d like some.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I could use some caffeine.” I set down my briefcase and was about to head to the kitchen for coffee when Melba stopped me.

  “No, you go on and get to work. You’ve got a lot to do,” she said with a smile. “I’ll bring you some coffee.”

  “That would be great. You really are the best.” I knew better than to argue wi
th her. “Come on, Diesel, we’d better get to work.” I picked up the briefcase and, with the cat beside me, strode into my office.

  Melba had indeed worked wonders while I was in the library staff meeting. The pile of papers I’d left on the desk was gone, filed expertly, and the bookshelves looked neat and more orderly than I’d left them. Diesel crawled under the desk and stretched out near my feet while I got comfortable at the computer and started looking through e-mail.

  Melba came in a couple of minutes later with my coffee, and I decided I should tell her about my meeting with Cassandra. She chuckled when I finished recounting the one-sided conversation.

  “Good for you,” she said. “It’s about dang time somebody told that witch off. Peter never would do anything about her.” She sniffed. “She should have been fired years ago, but nobody would stand up to her.”

  “I don’t know whether it will do any good,” I said after a sip of coffee. “I told her I expected to see an appointment with her on my calendar by the end of the day. Let me know if she doesn’t comply. I’m not going to let up on her.”

  “Will do,” Melba said. “I’ll be back in a minute with those files.”

  I decided I had better e-mail Penny Sisson about the confrontation with Cassandra. Better to have it documented, because I wouldn’t put it past Cassandra to file a complaint with HR against me. I also wanted staff turnover information from HR, and I would compare that to what the department heads gave me.

  I spent about ten minutes composing my message to Penny, during which time Melba came in and deposited three files on my desk. I nodded my thanks and kept working on the e-mail. I read it through a couple of times, tweaked it a little, and finally sent it.

  A glance at the printed schedule Melba provided made me happy. No meetings the rest of the day today. On Monday morning, however, I was scheduled to meet with the president and the deans of the various schools for two hours. After that, I had a meeting with the vice president in charge of finance, no doubt to discuss the budget and the efforts to get it back on track. The rest of the afternoon was clear. There were a few meetings the rest of the week, but Wednesday was blank. No problem about meeting with the department heads in one-on-ones then.

  In light of my Monday schedule I decided I had better spend the rest of the morning reviewing the budget. Dealing with budgets had never been anything I enjoyed, but they were a necessary evil.

  By the time the lunch hour rolled around, I had a headache and blurry vision. Diesel had remained mostly quiet while I worked. Occasionally he went to Melba’s office but he spent a fair amount of time asleep under the desk by my feet.

  When I told him we were going home for lunch, he perked up and meowed. “I agree,” I said. I left my briefcase. I had no plans to make this a working lunch.

  I stopped to tell Melba we were headed out.

  “I’ll be going in a few minutes myself,” she said. “I’ll make sure the offices are locked. See you in about an hour.”

  Diesel and I headed down the hall to the back of the building. Though the skies outside remained gray and the wind had picked up a bit, there was no rain yet. Diesel ambled toward the car ahead of me, and I glanced at it and stopped as if stuck to the pavement.

  The windshield was shattered.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  My blood pressure went through the roof, and it was a wonder I didn’t stroke out on the spot. Once the cloud of fury began to dissipate from my brain, I realized Diesel was trilling anxiously. I needed to calm down for his sake as well as my own. I drew a couple of deep breaths and rubbed the cat’s head and along his spine. Diesel quieted, and my heart rate slowed to a more normal pace.

  Was the shattered windshield a sign from the murderer? Or had someone with a grudge done it for spite? And by someone with a grudge, I meant Cassandra Brownley.

  I pulled out my cell phone and punched in the number for the campus police. I explained the situation tersely and requested that Chief Ford come if at all possible. I couldn’t stop staring at my car. The unnecessary expense of repairing it annoyed me, but the intent behind it both enraged and frightened me.

  Was this a sign that I was the killer’s next target?

  I stumbled back to the rear stoop and sat down. Diesel climbed up beside me and regarded me with concern. I put an arm around him and snuggled him close. I was suddenly afraid for him as well, because he could easily be a target in a campaign against me.

  What was behind it? My brain kept circling back to that one question, but I could find no clear answer.

  A campus police car pulled into the lot and parked near me. Chief Ford climbed out along with another officer. The subordinate went to look at my car while Ford came up to me and Diesel.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “Your face is a bit red. Should I call emergency services?”

  “No, I’ll be okay. My face is red because I’m furious.” I set Diesel gently aside and stood. “I’m trying to figure out what’s behind this.” I quickly related the morning’s events, including my confrontation with Cassandra. “Something I did or said must have made whoever did this angry, or perhaps afraid.”

  “I apologize,” Ford said. “I should have put an officer on duty here, and I will now. Too late to stop this.” He waved a hand toward my car.

  “You couldn’t have known,” I said. “I certainly wasn’t expecting anything like this.” Diesel meowed in agreement.

  Ford smiled briefly at the cat. “Excuse me a moment while I go have a look at the damage.”

  I resumed my seat on the stoop, and Diesel hunched up against me. I concentrated on keeping him calm and felt my blood pressure dropping to normal levels. I began to review the morning’s events, trying to find a hint to the motive for the damage.

  I hoped it would turn out to be nothing more than a fit of pique on Cassandra’s part, taking out on my poor car what she couldn’t take out on me directly. That would be a pain to deal with, but it was better than knowing that it was a warning from the killer.

  My stomach rumbled, and I realized how hungry I was. Stress often had this effect on me. I glanced at the sky. The clouds had receded somewhat, and the sun was trying to break through. Perhaps we could walk home and then back again without getting wet.

  Ford returned to where I waited. “There’s a big rock in the driver’s seat,” he said. “Looks like it came from one of the flower beds around the main library building. We’ll get it tested for trace evidence, and if we’re lucky, we’ll find something to identify the prankster with.”

  “Do you think that’s all it was?” I asked. “And not a warning?”

  Ford shrugged. “Hard to say, but I’d advise you to be on your guard until the murder investigation is complete. Do you have an alarm system at home?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but I don’t use it unless I’m going to be gone overnight and the house will be empty. Most of the time there is someone in the house even when I’m not.”

  “Better use it even when you’re at home for now,” he said. “I will check on the whereabouts of the senior members of the library staff you mentioned.” He pulled out a notebook and repeated their names as he jotted them down.

  As he did so, I remembered there was another potential suspect, one I had forgotten about till now. “What about Brent Tucker? He could have done it for Lisa’s sake, or at her request because I advised her to come clean with you about everything.”

  Ford shook his head. “I don’t think he’s guilty of this, at least. Last I heard, he was sitting in the DeSoto County jail for DUI and attempting to assault an officer. He might have made bail and be out by now. I’ll check on that.”

  “Do you need me any longer?” I rose from the stoop. “Diesel and I were headed home for lunch when I discovered the broken windshield. While I’m there, I can arrange for repairs.”

  “Sure,” Ford said. “We’ll be finished with
it in a few minutes, and I’ll have an officer on duty. You go on home and get something to eat.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Come on, Diesel. Let’s go home.” I picked up the leash, and the cat set off in the correct direction. He knew exactly where we were headed.

  I tried to keep my mind blank on the walk home. If I thought too much about the situation, I would get angry all over again. I needed to remain calm, not only for my health, but in order to figure this out. I did make a couple of decisions while we walked, though.

  One was to inform Azalea of the potential danger and to suggest that she not come to the house until the case was done. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to her, and I knew Aunt Dottie would haunt me without mercy the rest of my life if anything did. Whether Azalea would agree with me was a matter beyond my control. I knew who had the upper hand.

  The second decision was to call Sean. I knew he would be alarmed and would probably try to talk me into resigning from my temporary position. Laura would do the same, no doubt. I didn’t want to cause either of them to worry, not when they both had their families to think about. Besides, that stubborn part of me that I couldn’t ignore wouldn’t allow me to tuck tail and run.

  Azalea greeted us at the front door. “I was expecting y’all earlier,” she said. “I put your food in the oven to warm.” She bustled off to the kitchen while I removed Diesel’s leash. I left the harness on because we wouldn’t be here that long. He scampered off toward the utility room while I hung the leash on the hall tree.

  By the time I reached the kitchen, Azalea had my food on the table. Today’s lunch consisted of a baked chicken breast, mashed potatoes and brown gravy, green beans, and two rolls—homemade, naturally—to be washed down with Azalea’s wonderful sweet tea.

  I knew that eating and enjoying my meal would help keep Azalea in a slightly more tractable mood, so I delayed telling her about what happened to my car until I was nearly done. She sneaked Diesel some bits of chicken while I ate.