Twelve Angry Librarians

“Hello, Mr. Harris, I’m Cathleen Matera. Sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing what you two were discussing. I also saw what happened and would be happy to be a witness for you, if necessary.”

I shook her hand and returned her smile. “Thank you, Ms. Matera. I regret I displayed such poor behavior in front of you all. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me.”

Cathleen Matera laughed. “I worked with Gavin in Colorado, mercifully for me only for about three years. We had a party after he left our library.”

Bob Coben snorted with laughter. “I’m looking forward to a party like that myself.”

“I went to library school with him, lo these many years ago,” I said. “He never endeared himself to his fellow students, I have to say. It’s rather sad to see he has never learned to get along with people.”

“He is rather pathetic,” Cathleen Matera said. “He is his own worst enemy, of course, but he’s such a narcissist he will never understand that.”

“Yeah, he’s always frustrated that the rest of the world can’t see and appreciate his genius.” Bob Coben ran a hand over his smooth pate. “I have to go now, got to meet someone for dinner, Mr. Harris, but don’t forget my offer.” He dug in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a business card.

I accepted the card and thanked him. He nodded and sauntered off. I turned to Cathleen Matera, who was digging in her handbag. She, too, pulled out a business card for me.

“I appreciate this,” I told her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any cards with me.”

“Not to worry.” Her cheeks dimpled when she smiled, I noticed. “I think I know where to find you. I need to get going myself. Talk to you later.”

As she walked away I realized the small crowd that had been watching us had dispersed. I felt considerably relieved. I hoped I didn’t have to talk to anyone else for a while about my poor behavior.

I headed for the door, intent on getting back to the office, collecting Diesel, and going home. I was surprised that I hadn’t seen either Marisue or Randi, but perhaps they had decided to skip the welcome. There was a reception later that I had to attend. I had enough time to get Diesel home and freshen up, however, before I had to be back for it. I’d rather stay home, of course, but duty called.

Yet another reason to rethink my interest in the job as a permanent part of my life.

I managed to reach my car without being further detained. During the short drive back to campus, I thought about Gavin’s threat to denounce me to Forrest Wyatt and the local authorities. Would he really follow through on that? He well might, I decided. He was probably vengeful enough. If he did, I would turn the matter over to my lawyer, my son, Sean. He could handle it. I refused to worry about it for now.

Diesel and I made it home shortly after five. I made sure he had fresh food and water, and I left him happily munching his favorite dry food while I went upstairs to undress and freshen up.

I decided a hot shower was in order, and when I finished I found Diesel snoozing on the bed. I sat down by him for a few minutes to cool down before getting dressed. He turned on his back for me to rub his belly. He purred while I did so.

“I’ve got to go out again in a little while,” I said. “You’re going to have to stay here, though.” He meowed, and I felt sure he understood me. “Stewart and Haskell are going to be here with you, though, and Dante, too.” Dante was Stewart’s little poodle. He and Diesel were good friends. “They’ll take care of you until I get home again.” Diesel meowed again while I continued to stroke.

Stewart Delacorte, a chemistry professor at Athena, and his partner, Haskell Bates, a deputy in the Athena County Sheriff’s Department, occupied an apartment on the third floor of my house. Haskell had only recently moved in, and I frankly felt more secure having both him and Stewart in the house with me, now that both my children were married and living in homes of their own. My young boarder, Justin Wardlaw, would soon be back after a semester in England. He had one final year at Athena, and then he would no doubt move on. I would certainly miss him, and so would Diesel.

That thought led me back to the possibility that Laura and Frank and my grandson might be headed for Virginia over the summer. I really didn’t want to think about that at the moment. It was too depressing.

I forced my mind back to the conference and my responsibilities. I looked forward even less than before to that cataloging panel on Saturday morning, now that I’d had a run-in with Gavin. Having to sit with him on a panel wasn’t a prospect calculated to fill me with anything but disquiet, not to mention loathing. I had no choice, however. I had to hope that he wouldn’t kick up a ruckus when he saw me there.