No Cats Allowed: A Cat in the Stacks Mystery (3 page)

Diesel meowed loudly several times and pulled against his leash, and I realized I still stood in the center of the sidewalk, oblivious to what was happening around me. I heard a loud “Excuse me,” and I hastily stepped to one side. Diesel, clever boy, moved nimbly with me so that the woman and her two stuffed canvas bags passed us without further fuss.

Led by my cat, I headed homeward again, a distance now of only about three blocks. My thoughts reverted to Melba and the problem of the pink lipstick. I grimaced at the words; they sounded like the title of a Golden Age detective story by John Dickson Carr. But this situation was happening in the present. I knew there were other women besides Melba who wore pink lipstick, but the coincidence struck me as worrisome.

How to approach the subject with Melba—that was the question plaguing me as I fished out my keys to unlock the front door. Diesel
darted inside the moment the door opened wide enough. I knew the quick entry meant he was eager to visit the litter box.

While my hands coped with the fastenings of the cat’s leash and harness, I thought about Melba. I couldn’t blame her if she had played that prank on Oscar Reilly. His behavior toward her was inexcusable, and I knew when she had her dander up, she could be a bit unpredictable.

The trouble was, the tenor of this particular prank seemed more like something an undergrad would do, not a woman of Melba’s age and experience. If Melba wanted to get her own revenge against Oscar, I figured she would come up with a far subtler, and in the end more devastating, plan.

In the kitchen I headed right for the fridge and helped myself to a glass of ice-cold water. I thought more about Melba and the lipstick. I could just call her and tell her about the scene I had unwillingly witnessed and gauge her reaction. No, upon reflection, I decided it would be better to wait until we were face-to-face again. The direct approach was best.

Loud crunching noises emanated from the nearby utility room. Diesel did enjoy his dry food, though I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started campaigning for his nightly serving of wet food. He often had tidbits from the dinner table as well, but I tried to ration them carefully. I also tried to make sure that none of the ingredients of the people food he ate were harmful to cats.

Moments later my gentle giant of a feline ambled purring into the kitchen. That loud noise, the source of his name, always made me feel better. He rubbed his head against my knee for a moment before he stretched out under the table near my feet.

My thoughts shifted to a different topic, though one still connected
to the odious Oscar Reilly. What
would
I do if he persisted in his attempts to keep me from bringing Diesel to work at the archive? I could quit, as I’d reasoned earlier, because I didn’t absolutely need the money from the job, helpful though it was. I would certainly miss the work I did there, though, because I loved it.

Or, I thought, I could take a leave of absence until the college found a new full-time director of the library. Oscar Reilly was only temporary, after all.
And the more temporary the better.

That sounded like the superior option, I decided. First, though, I had to find out whether part-time employees could actually take a leave of absence. I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time. Thirteen minutes to five, so perhaps Penny Sisson was still in her office. I had a good memory for phone numbers, and I punched in her number after only a few moments’ thought.

As the phone rang several times, I figured I had missed her after all, but then she answered.

When I identified myself, she said, “I’m glad you called, Charlie. I was going to call you first thing tomorrow morning anyway.”

“Do you have some news for me?” I asked, a bit surprised.

“Yes, and I don’t think you’ll be happy with it.” I could hear the tension in her voice. “I spoke with Mr. Reilly and passed along your message about proof of allergies and your lawyer’s name. Mr. Reilly said he’d be happy to provide proof. He needs time to get in touch with his physician back East, though.”

“How much time?” I asked, dismayed by the news. I really expected Reilly to back down after I called his bluff.

“It might take as much as a week, according to him,” Penny said.

“In the meantime, do I have to leave Diesel at home when I go in to work?”

Penny sighed. “That would be best. I know it’s annoying, but I don’t think you should antagonize Mr. Reilly.”

“I’ve been thinking about taking a leave of absence from the archive,” I said. “Are part-time employees allowed to do that?”

“Yes, provided that you have the approval of your supervisor,” Penny said. “Do you think Mr. Reilly would approve your request?”

“I don’t know,” I said. Frankly, I doubted he would, simply to be difficult.

“It can’t hurt to ask,” Penny said. “There’s a form in the faculty and staff handbook. Fill it out and give it to him. Let me know the outcome.”

“I’ll do that,” I said and told her good-bye.

I put the phone on the table and looked down at my cat. Diesel stared up at me with his trusting, loving eyes, and I knew whatever decision I made about the job, I would consider his best interests first and foremost. After all the years of taking him along with me everywhere I went—except to church, the grocery store, and the occasional visit to my doctor—I couldn’t suddenly start leaving him at home. Azalea wouldn’t mind looking after him, though she pretended half the time that he was a pest and got in her way. The rest of the time she sneaked him bites of bacon and sang gospel music to him. Despite his newfound friendship with my housekeeper, I knew Diesel would be unhappy without me. I would certainly be unhappy at work, worrying about him.

Thoughts of Azalea reminded me to check to see what she’d left for my dinner. I checked the fridge and found the casserole dish I had overlooked earlier. Resting atop the plastic wrap that covered the food was a note from Azalea with instructions on reheating the food. She went on to say that there was a bowl of salad as well,
along with a freshly made jar of her homemade Thousand Island dressing.

Diesel and I would dine alone tonight. My son, Sean, would be with his fiancée and law partner, Alexandra Pendergrast. He still claimed my house as his home in Athena, but he spent most of his nights with Alexandra at her place. Though engaged, they had not yet set a firm wedding date. I fretted about that, wishing they would finalize things, but my son was every bit as hardheaded as I was, and I knew it was useless to discuss the matter with him.

One of my boarders, Justin Wardlaw, now in his junior year at Athena College, was in England for the semester. I knew from his occasional e-mails that he was having a wonderful time there, but I did miss his cheerful, albeit at times rambunctious, presence in the house.

My other boarder, Stewart Delacorte, did not often dine with me. He spent any spare moment he had with his boyfriend, Haskell Bates, the taciturn sheriff’s deputy, whenever Bates was off duty. I had thought Stewart might move in with him, but for now he seemed content to remain in his suite on the third floor.

After deciding that it was too early for dinner, I headed for the den and my laptop computer. I might as well find the necessary form and submit my request for a leave of absence. If Oscar refused, then I would simply hand in my resignation. I didn’t want to have to deal with him any more than I had to.

Diesel hopped on the couch beside me while I waited for the computer to boot up. He nestled his head against my thigh, and I rubbed along his spine. He rewarded me with loud purring and the occasional warble.

I hadn’t had much call before now to consult the Athena College employee handbook, but it took me only a moment to find it
on the website. I downloaded the form I needed, then exited the browser. The form didn’t require much work, but I did have to think carefully about what I entered under the reason for the request. I couldn’t say what I really wanted to, that I didn’t want to deal with a jerk of a boss. Instead, I finally settled on the vague statement that I had urgent personal matters that needed my complete attention. In the blank for amount of time requested, I put six months. Surely by then, I hoped, there would be a new library director. The search had started right after Peter Vanderkeller left, and that was a couple of months ago.

Once the form was done, I attached it to an e-mail message to Oscar Reilly, and I copied Penny Sisson. I clicked on the Send button and stared at the screen for a moment. I had an odd feeling, as if having crossed a personal Rubicon, but I was glad I had done it.

I set the laptop aside and regarded the dozing cat lying next to me. There were no doubt many who would question my decision, separating myself from a job I loved because of a household pet. Those who would question, however, were not people I particularly cared to know. Diesel was as much a member of my family as my children, their partners, and my own dear friend, Helen Louise Brady.

The front doorbell chimed, and Diesel perked up at once. He hopped down from the couch and trotted out of the room. I followed more slowly, thanks to legs and a back that stiffened up while I sat on the couch.

The bell chimed a second time before I could get to the door. “Coming,” I called out loudly. Diesel already waited beside the door. He chirped to let me know he wanted the door open.

“I know, boy, I know,” I muttered. I unlocked and opened the door.

Lisa Krause, the head of circulation and reference at the Athena College Library, stood on the doorstep, her expression one of mixed anger and anxiety.

“Thank goodness you’re home, Charlie,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind my coming by without calling first, but I’m just so upset I had to talk to someone I could trust.”

“Of course not,” I said. “Come on in.”

Lisa stepped in far enough for me to close the door, and Diesel warbled for her. Her face cleared a little as she regarded the friendly cat. She rubbed his head for a moment and then began to smile.

“He really is good at making me feel better.” Lisa took a steadying breath. “I don’t suppose you’d let me borrow him for a couple of days?” She smiled.

“I’m afraid he’s a noncirculating item most of the time,” I said, and she rolled her eyes at the intentionally bad pun. “Come on in the kitchen, and let me get you something to drink. Tea, coffee, a soft drink? What would you like?”

“A bottle of bourbon,” Lisa said as she followed me. “But a soft drink will do.”

“That bad, eh?” I asked as I motioned for her to take a seat at the table.

“It’s so ridiculous I still can’t believe it happened.” Lisa dropped her purse on the table and plopped into the chair. “I swear, Charlie, if you hear that someone ran down Oscar Reilly in the street, you can bet it was me.”

I couldn’t say that I was surprised by the source of Lisa’s distress. Oscar Reilly appeared to excel at annoying everyone around him—or at least everyone in the Athena College Library. Perhaps he was a joy to work with in his normal role—but I wouldn’t want to bet on that.

I handed Lisa a cold can and a glass. “I think there might be a few people ahead of you on that.” I sat in my usual spot to her left.

Lisa offered a wry grin as she popped the top on her can and poured some of the liquid into her glass. “Wouldn’t surprise me if the line stretched halfway around the football stadium.” She set down the can and had a sip of her drink.

“What did he do to you?”

Her expression turned grim. “He basically called me a liar. He didn’t come right out and say I was, but he might as well have.” She paused for another sip of her drink. “At first I was so stunned
by it I was absolutely speechless. I’ve been stewing about it most of the day.”

I didn’t know Lisa anywhere near as well as I knew Melba, but based on my knowledge of her character, I would have said she was not a prevaricator. I had always found her straightforward and open.

“Exactly what did he say?” I asked.

Diesel had been sitting next to me but the obvious distress in Lisa’s voice caused him to move to her side and bump his head against her leg. She smiled down at him and rubbed his head. “Thank you, sweet boy. You are just the kind of tonic I need right now.” She raised her head to look at me while she continued to stroke the cat.

“He called me to his office this morning to discuss the preliminary budget I’d turned in for the coming fiscal year,” she said. “At first everything seemed fine, then suddenly he started questioning me on some of the line items from the current year’s budget. He seemed particularly interested in the travel budget.” She frowned. “It’s been cut repeatedly the last few years, but we still have some money for a couple of us to attend meetings. I went to a meeting back in the fall in San Francisco for a committee I’m on, and he peppered me with questions about it.” She paused for another sip of her drink. “I answered him as best I could, though he didn’t seem really interested in my answers. Then all of a sudden, he said, ‘So if I got in touch with other members of the committee, they’ll say you actually attended the sessions?’”

I felt her distress level rise with every word, and so did Diesel. He began an anxious warbling, but Lisa appeared not to hear. When she broke off, he butted his head against her leg, and she focused on him with an apologetic glance. “I didn’t mean to upset him, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “He’s simply worried because he knows you’re upset. It’s all right, Diesel. Lisa is going to be fine.”

Lisa continued to stroke him while I considered what to say in response to her encounter with Oscar.

“I can’t reveal the details, but I heard a similar story earlier today involving Oscar.” I smiled at her. “In that instance, too, he chose as his target someone who is honest to a fault. I have no idea what he thinks to gain by behavior like this, but my advice to you is to go to HR and file a complaint. He is creating a hostile work environment, and that constitutes harassment.”

“I considered that.” Lisa sighed. “But frankly the thought of it makes me feel like throwing up. Now that I know he’s pulled the same thing on someone else, though, I know I really need to do it. Is this other person going to file a complaint?”

“Yes, and this person has been with the college for a little over thirty years. She has a lot of credibility, as do you. You have an excellent record, as far as I’m aware. Don’t let him continue to get away with this kind of nastiness.” I considered telling her about my own issue with Oscar but decided that it would sound slightly frivolous when compared to her situation.

Lisa nodded. “Thank you, Charlie. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you letting me vent and giving me good advice.” She grinned suddenly. “I wish you would apply for the director’s job. You’d be terrific to work for.”

As always, my first reaction to such praise was embarrassment. I struggled to speak for a moment. “Thank you, Lisa. I’m touched by your kind regard and your faith in my abilities. But my days of being in charge of a library are done.”

“I can’t blame you for not wanting to take it on,” Lisa said. “It’s bound to be full of headaches and politics.”

“True,” I said. “I had enough of both during my years as a branch manager at the public library in Houston.”

Diesel seemed to be satisfied that Lisa was okay. He moved away from her and back beside my chair. He stretched and ended up with his head against one of the chair legs.

“Our loss.” Lisa stood. “Thanks again for the tea and sympathy, so to speak. I’d better get home and let my dogs out for a run in the backyard.”

Diesel and I escorted her to the door and let her out. She turned to wave as she headed down the walk to where her car was parked on the street. Diesel and I watched until she was safely in her car, and then I closed the door.

What the heck was Oscar Reilly up to? I considered that as Diesel and I wandered back into the kitchen.

I couldn’t fathom the method to his madness—for surely it was madness to antagonize one person after another in the library. I wondered if he had bullied other library personnel in this manner. Or had he made Melba, Lisa, and me targets for a particular reason?

Could he be trying to make us all quit of our own accord? I couldn’t imagine why he would, but in my case at least he was doing a darn good job.

I decided I might as well start getting my dinner ready. I took the casserole dish out of the fridge and put it in the oven, following Azalea’s instructions about the proper temperature and timing. Then I went to the utility room to open a can of wet food for Diesel. I left him scarfing it down while I went back into the kitchen.

I would love to talk all this over with Helen Louise, but I knew she would be too busy right now to chat. I would have to wait until later tonight. For a moment I was tempted to take the
casserole out of the oven, pack Diesel into the car, and drive over to the bistro and have dinner there.

But then I realized that I was being selfish. Helen Louise needed to be able to focus on work, not sit and hold my hand and listen to my troubles when she had customers lined up, waiting to be served.

The noise of a key turning in the lock of the kitchen door brought me out of my reverie. I looked in that direction to see Sean stepping into the room.

“Hi, Dad, how are you?” Sean came over to the table and set his briefcase down. He went to the fridge and rummaged around for a beer.

“Doing okay, Son, how are you?”

“Better now,” he said, brandishing the bottle of beer. He popped the cap off and came back to the table to join me.

“Rough day?” I asked.

Sean shook his head. “No, not that bad really, just intense. Crazy family members challenging a will. Like something out of a really bad movie. Hard to believe lunatics like these guys are free and on the street.” He grinned suddenly. “They’re going to make a heck of a chapter in my memoirs one of these days.”

“With the names changed to protect the not-so-innocent,” I said, and he grinned even more broadly.

“Something like that.” Sean sipped at his beer. “What about you? You were looking pretty serious when I came in.”

Diesel chose that moment to amble back into the room. He chirped several times and approached Sean for attention. Sean complied, rubbing the cat’s head until Diesel purred.

“Actually I do have a matter to discuss with you. I might need your professional services.”

Sean regarded me with concern. “What happened?”

He had already heard me talk about Oscar Reilly, so now I simply related what had happened today. As an afterthought, I included the incident in the parking lot. I wouldn’t put it past Oscar to try to blame me for it.

Sean listened without comment until I finished. Then he shook his head. “Wonder what his game is?” He thought for a moment. “Until he produces his proof of allergy to cats, I think it’s probably best that you don’t take Diesel with you. Or simply don’t go to work at all.”

“That’s my plan,” I said. “I don’t want to deal with him. In fact, I put in for a leave of absence. I figured I could take time off until the college finds a new library director.” I sighed. “The only problem is, Oscar has to approve the leave.”

Sean drained his bottle and set it on the table. “You think he will?”

“I don’t know. He might, but I think it’s more likely he’ll refuse.”

“If he does turn out to be allergic to cats, and he won’t approve your leave request, what will you do?”

“I’ll quit,” I said. “I don’t want to, because I love what I do there. But I’m not going to leave Diesel at home. It’s not fair to him after all this time.”

Sean suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable. “We’ve never talked about this, Dad, and it’s not really my business, but will you be okay financially if you quit?”

I had never told either of my children the full extent of my aunt’s legacy, beyond the fact that she left me her house and some money to keep it up. In truth, she left me quite a considerable inheritance that, combined with my pension from the city of Houston, made it unnecessary for me to work.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Aunt Dottie left me pretty comfortably well-off, and I don’t really have to work. I do it because I like to keep busy and I like to think I’m providing a useful service to my alma mater.”

“What do you know?” Sean grinned. “Had no idea my old, doddering father was a rich man. You’d better watch your coffee from now on.”

“Ha ha.” I had never fully discussed my financial status with either of my children. They knew I was comfortably off, but this was the first time I had admitted to one of them that I didn’t have to work to make ends meet.

“Seriously, though, I’m glad for your sake. I don’t like to see you treated this way, and if necessary, I’ll act on your behalf, of course. But for now, I think we have to wait to get the doctor’s report.”

“If it ever shows up,” I said. Diesel warbled loudly, and both Sean and I laughed. “Diesel agrees with me. Neither of us thinks that Oscar is really allergic to him. The man seems to be a born troublemaker.”

The front doorbell chimed and startled me. I rose from the table.

“While you see who that is,” Sean said, “because it’s bound to be for you, I’m going to run upstairs and pick up a couple of things from my room.”

Diesel accompanied me to the door while Sean climbed the stairs two at a time.

I opened the door to find a distraught Melba standing there.

“You’re not going to believe this,” she said as she entered the house. She paused for a moment to scratch Diesel’s head while I shut the door.

Melba looked at me, her expression stormy. “That man is now
saying I vandalized his car with lipstick. Can you believe it? I would never do anything so stupid.”

I glanced at her lips. Their pink hue looked uncomfortably like the color of the lipstick on Oscar’s windshield. I said that to her as tactfully as I could.

“I know that, Charlie,” she said. “The thing is, it probably is my lipstick. But I didn’t do it.”