Миранда Джеймс - Twelve Angry Librarians

“Thank you, President Wyatt, and thank you all.” I rose to my feet as everyone else stood and began to file out of the room.

Once the last committee member was out of the room, Penny Sisson entered, smiling broadly. “I’m so excited, Charlie. I hope you will decide to take the job.” She pulled out the chair next to mine, placed some folders on the table, and began to give me the details of salary and benefits. Still in a bit of a daze, I did my best to follow along and absorb the important facts.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later I found a parking spot in the lot behind the Farrington House. Penny Sisson had been thorough—so thorough, in fact, that I struggled to remember much of what she told me. One fact persisted in my memory, however. The salary the college was offering was considerably more than I had ever earned in the public library system in Houston, even as a branch manager of many years’ service. I was comfortably off, thanks to my pension and to my aunt Dottie, who had left me her house and a considerable amount of money. I didn’t need a salary at that level, but there were a number of things I could do with the extra money. Important things like saving money for my grandchildren to go to college, and so on.

I realized at least five minutes had passed since I switched off the ignition. The inside of the car had grown warmer. I got out, locked the car, and then headed for the back entrance. I had to remember to keep an eye out for Gavin Fong today. I didn’t want to encounter him—although a small, and I did mean small , part of me wanted to tell him I’d been offered the job just to see his reaction.

I wouldn’t do it, of course. If he found out, he might attack me again, and the next time I might end up hurt a lot worse.

As I made my way to the front of the hotel and the meeting rooms, I kept a careful watch. At the registration table I picked up my name badge, the obligatory canvas tote bag, and a conference program. Having left my printouts on my desk at the library, I scanned the latter to see what sessions might tempt me. I checked my watch. The ten o’clock programs were about to start. There was a presentation on effective management of electronic resources that sounded promising. I stuck the program in my bag and hurried off to find the meeting room.

Ninety minutes later I emerged from a stimulating, informative session, and made my way to the nearest men’s room. After I finished there, I headed into the hallway and scanned the milling crowd. There was a break until the luncheon at noon—the luncheon for which Gavin Fong was the keynote speaker. I was tempted to ditch it and find my lunch elsewhere, because I had no desire to listen to Gavin opine on anything. Lisa Krause needed my support, however, and I had to make a good showing since the college library was ostensibly the host of the conference.

There was no sign of Gavin anywhere in the crowd. After a few minutes of wandering closer to the ballroom foyer, I found Marisue and Randi in conversation with a woman who looked vaguely familiar. I walked up to them in time to hear Randi say, “Why, Maxine, that’s ridiculous.”

Maxine . She was the woman who approached Gavin yesterday right after I knocked him down.

“That’s what I told him,” Maxine replied, “but you know he never listens to anyone’s advice. There’s no telling what may happen in there. He’s his own worst enemy.”

Marisue noticed me. “Hi, Charlie. How are you? Have you met Maxine Muller? She’s the associate library director for public services at the college where she and Gavin Fong work.” She quirked one eyebrow, and I took the signal to mean I should be careful what I said about Gavin.

“I’m doing fine. Hope you’re both doing well. Nice to meet you, Ms. Muller. I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves so far.”

Maxine Muller hadn’t really looked at me until I spoke directly to her, but when she did, her face paled, and she took a step backward. “You’re the man who attacked Gavin yesterday.”

“We had an altercation, yes.” I didn’t like the word attack in reference to my striking him, since he tried to hit me first. “I regret that it happened, and I hope you will convey that message to Gavin for me.”

She nodded, then abruptly turned and walked away. Randi and Marisue exchanged what I would have called a knowing glance . Randi nodded.

“Is she in love with Gavin?” I asked, because I knew that was exactly what they were thinking.

Marisue shrugged. “Possibly, though I can’t imagine why.”

“Because she’s probably the type that always falls for an idiot like Gavin.” Randi shook her head. “How he finds them, I don’t know. Or I guess they find him.”

“No accounting for taste.” I smiled. “I couldn’t help overhear that last bit of your conversation with her as I approached. What were you talking about, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Why should we mind?” Randi asked. “You’re going to find out in a little while anyway.”

Marisue explained. “Maxine told us the gist of Gavin’s keynote speech for the luncheon. Apparently he’s going to spend forty-five minutes telling us how we are all shortly to become obsolete.”

I groaned. “Not that crap again. I’m so sick of hearing how we’re no longer needed because everyone can find what they need online without our help.”

“You know it’s crap, and we know it’s crap.” Randi looked angry. “Students don’t know the first thing about research these days, and even many of the faculty can’t figure out how to navigate an online journal or a database.”

“But the problem is, so many of them don’t think they need us.” Marisue appeared unruffled. “Many of them don’t even realize that they can only access research materials on the Internet because the library licenses them and pays for them on their behalf.”

“I know,” Randi said. “I had a tenured professor, a man who certainly ought to know better, tell me the library was unnecessary because he could get what he wanted online. He and the others like him don’t have a clue about licensing.”

“I’m sure you set him straight on that point.” I grinned at her.

“You’d better believe I did,” Randi said. “That and a few other things as well, like the fact that his hand had no business on my knee or any other part of my body.”

Marisue, who had been looking past Randi toward the ballroom doors, said, “They’re letting people in now. Let’s go find a table near the back. I want to be able to get out quickly if there’s a riot.” She walked off, and Randi and I followed.

I vaguely remembered Lisa Krause telling me that I was expected to sit at the speaker’s table for the keynote speech today. Under the circumstances, I thought it best that I forget she ever told me. I chose a seat at a back table between Marisue and Randi. We had a good view of the dais at the other side of the ballroom. This was more than close enough to Gavin for me.

The tables had already been set with the salad course, glasses of iced tea, and dessert, a slice of raspberry cheesecake. Our table soon filled, as did the ballroom, and we chatted as we ate our salads. Before long the waitstaff came by, handing out plates of the usual grilled banquet chicken breast, along with spears of asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and roasted red potatoes.

The food was better than that of many such banquets I had attended over the years. I would have to call Donna Evans, the catering manager, later and tell her so.

As the waitstaff were clearing away our plates and beginning to serve coffee, there was activity on the dais. A tall, distinguished-looking, gray-haired man I didn’t recognize stepped up to the microphone.