Twelve Angry Librarians

FIVE

Two afternoons later, I stood on the dais of the Farrington House ballroom with Lisa Krause waiting for Forrest Wyatt to arrive. The conference started in five minutes, and Forrest had a welcome speech to deliver. If he didn’t show, I imagined I would have to fill in, and I hadn’t prepared for such a situation. I had my two minutes and nothing more.

“I’m sure he’ll be here,” Lisa said in an undertone. “His administrative assistant assured me that she would let me know immediately if something came up and he couldn’t get here.”

“He’s cutting it too close for my comfort.” I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. My collar felt tight, and I fiddled with my tie. Should I loosen it before I had to speak? Or would I look sloppy if I did that?

I had a horror of appearing unkempt in front of a crowd like this, even in these days of increasing informality of dress no matter the occasion. My parents had been unfailingly particular in their dress for any kind of public event, and that habit was too ingrained for me to ignore it. So I stood on the dais in my best suit and tie, shoes freshly polished, and hair cut the day before. I knew I must look presentable because Lisa complimented me when I found her several minutes ago, waiting to mount the dais.

“Relax, Charlie, here he comes.” Lisa nodded toward the center aisle of chairs that occupied much of the ballroom floor.

Tall, thin, dark of hair, and tanned of skin, Forrest Wyatt looked every inch the successful executive he was. He had been at the helm of Athena College for nearly two years, and he seemed to have a magic touch with potential donors. The endowment was growing, and alumni and board alike were happy with his leadership.

He greeted Lisa and me with an affable smile. “I’m always worried I’ll forget at the last minute, right before I start talking, exactly who the audience is and give the wrong speech.” His eyes twinkled, and Lisa and I chuckled in response. He checked his watch and glanced at Lisa. She nodded, then stepped to the podium.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.” Lisa paused to let her gaze sweep the room. “I am Lisa Krause, head of access services at the Athena College Library and chair of the local arrangements committee for this meeting. It is my great pleasure to introduce the president of the college, Dr. Forrest Wyatt, who is here to offer you an official greeting.” She briefly listed Forrest’s academic credentials and past experiences, then stepped aside.

Forrest moved to the podium. After thanking Lisa for the introduction, he faced the audience. “We at Athena College are delighted to welcome the Southern Academic Library Association Annual Conference back to Athena. Libraries are an integral part of any institution of higher learning, and over the next few days I know you will be discussing the exciting changes and trends in academic libraries.”

He continued in this vein for about five minutes more, and his talk evinced more knowledge of those exciting changes and trends in academic libraries than I realized he possessed. I hadn’t briefed him, and thus I was duly impressed by his comments.

His welcome complete, he said, “It is now my pleasure to introduce the interim director of the Athena College Library, Mr. Charles Harris. Mr. Harris has recently been guiding the library ably through a period of transition, and we are fortunate to have a man of his experience and knowledge serving in this capacity.”

I imagined that many in the audience were well aware of the events that led up to the period of transition, and, ever the diplomat, Forrest put the best spin possible on it.

Suddenly I realized Forrest had stepped back from the podium, and I stepped up to the microphone. “Thank you, President Wyatt, for those kind remarks. On behalf of the faculty and staff of the Athena College Library, I am delighted to welcome you all to the elegant, historical Farrington House. I know Ms. Krause and her committee have worked hard to make this a successful event. We have an exciting slate of presentations and panel discussions ahead of us, and I trust we will all come away from the conference energized by fresh ideas and new connections. We hope you will find time to visit our beautiful campus and the library.” I smiled and stepped away from the microphone.

I made it through the short speech without stumbling, even as I gazed out at the blur of faces, some two hundred twenty-odd of them. Lisa murmured, “Well done, Charlie,” and took my place at the microphone. She made a couple of announcements, and we were done.

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.