Миранда Джеймс - No Cats Allowed

“Aw, now, is that any way to greet an old buddy?” Stanley sounded amused. “You can do better than that, Oscar.”

Oscar’s voice sounded higher than usual when he spoke. “Why are you here, Porter?”

“I don’t think that’s anything you want to discuss in front of your coworker here, is it?” Stanley made himself comfortable in one of the two chairs Oscar kept near his desk for visitors.

Oscar’s glance flicked nervously in my direction. “Um, no, I guess not. You can leave, Charlie.”

“If you’re sure everything is okay,” I said. Stanley had his back to me, and I held up my cell phone so Oscar could see it clearly. I mimed punching in three digits. He gave a slight shake of the head. “Okay, then, Diesel and I will resume our morning walk. Nice meeting you, Stanley.”

The big man didn’t acknowledge me. All his attention appeared focused on Oscar, who showed no signs of relaxing. He still stood with his back pressed against the shelves.

Stanley spoke in a firm tone. “Sit down, Oscar.”

Oscar sat, though he continued to eye his erstwhile friend warily.

I turned and walked out. Diesel scampered ahead of me, eager to be out of the tension-filled room. I couldn’t blame him. I was glad to be out of it myself, though part of me wanted to eavesdrop on the conversation.

I stopped and turned, trying to decide whether to sneak back, but before I could make up my mind, Oscar’s door shut. Given the thickness of the walls and the door, I knew I had little chance to overhear anything now, so I led Diesel out of Melba’s office and back out to the street.

We hadn’t made it twenty feet down the sidewalk toward home when I heard Melba hail me. I turned, and Diesel almost jerked the leash out of my hand. He was that eager to see Melba. I held firm, though, and we walked back slowly toward her.

“Morning, boys,” Melba said with a bright smile. She scratched Diesel’s head as he rubbed against her leg and meowed.

“Good morning to you, too. You sound pretty cheerful. Did your meeting with Penny go well?”

Melba nodded. “Yes, it sure did. I filed that complaint, and now I feel fine. Penny told me from now on I should call her the minute Oscar gets nasty over anything.” She nodded in the direction of the building. “Why don’t y’all come in with me, and let’s have some coffee?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” I said.

“Why?” Melba looked startled. “Don’t tell me you’ve had another run-in with him this morning.”

“Not exactly.” I filled her in on the encounter with her mysterious stranger and his meeting with Oscar.

Her eyes widened at first, then she grinned when I finished. “Maybe this Stanley guy will solve the problem for us. If he beats Oscar up real bad, he won’t be able to annoy the rest of us.”

“Melba, surely you don’t mean that?” I was a bit shocked at her bloodthirstiness, though I had to admit she had provocation.

She rolled her eyes. “No, I don’t really want anyone to beat Oscar up that bad, but I wouldn’t mind if this guy scared the daylights out of him. Maybe after this he’ll be too shaken up to bother me or anybody else.” She laughed. “Once he finds out I’ve filed a complaint, he really ought to calm down.”

“I don’t think he’ll be a problem much longer, frankly. He’ll have to behave properly because of the complaints, or he could lose his position.” I paused for a moment to consider that. “Once all this gets to the vice president for finance and the president himself, I imagine he could get fired right away.”

“I hope so,” Melba said. “That would be the best outcome for the library, that’s for dang sure.”

I considered telling her about the argument I’d overheard between Oscar and Cassandra but decided I had best keep that to myself for now. Melba would probably hear about it from another source eventually anyway.

“If they do get rid of him,” Melba continued, “I wish they’d make you the director, or at least the interim. You’ve got the experience, and everybody likes and respects you .”

“Thank you,” I said and tried not to blush. I have always had a hard time accepting praise, even from an old friend. “It’s a kind thought, but frankly I’m not interested. I don’t want the responsibility anymore. I like my life the way it is. Diesel does, too, don’t you, boy?”

As ever, when I addressed him directly, he responded right away, this time with a loud meow.

“Diesel has spoken.” I grinned.

Melba laughed. “Since he’s in charge, not you, I guess that’s the end of that.” She turned to look toward the front of the administration building. “You think we ought to get in there and check on Oscar? How long has that stranger been with him?”

“Not quite fifteen minutes,” I said. I had been facing the front of the building, and I hadn’t seen anyone come out. Maybe we should go in and make sure nothing had happened to our boss. I still felt uneasy about leaving Oscar alone with Porter Stanley when Oscar was so clearly afraid of the man. “We probably should. Come on.”

Diesel for once did not appear happy to enter the building. I was sure he remembered the unpleasantness from earlier and was still unsettled by it. I stopped for a moment to talk to him and stroke his back.

“Poor baby,” Melba said in an undertone as we resumed our progress. “He must have been terrified by it all.”

I nodded. “I’m hoping we won’t encounter more of the same.” I opened the door and held it for Melba. Diesel and I stepped inside and followed her toward her office.

All was quiet as we entered, but the door to Oscar’s office remained shut. Melba moved quietly to it and put her ear against it. She listened for about ten seconds before she stepped away.

In a hushed tone she said, “I can’t hear anything in there. Usually you can at least pick up a faint sound, but this time, nothing.”

We looked at each other, no doubt both thinking similar terrible thoughts. After a moment, I handed Diesel’s leash to her. “You two step back. I’m going in.”

Melba, eyes round with fear, did as I asked. She and the cat retreated toward the door to the hall while I approached Oscar’s door. I knocked loudly and waited.

After a few seconds I knocked again, and when there still no response, I opened the door and braced myself for what I might find.

What I found was an office empty of men. I expelled a pent breath in relief. “No one’s here,” I announced.

“Maybe they’re upstairs,” Melba said. “Let’s go look.”

I passed her and walked to the bottom of the stairs. “Stay here.”

Melba didn’t argue. Diesel didn’t look happy, but I didn’t want him with me, in case I did make an unpleasant discovery on the second floor.

At the top of the stairs I called out Oscar’s name. After a moment of silence, I did it again, this time more loudly. There were no other offices on the second floor besides mine. The rest of the rooms up there were dedicated to the archive, archival storage, and storage for a few other things, like old library personnel files and discarded furniture.

I pulled out my keys and went to each in turn, but there was no sign that Oscar and Porter Stanley had entered any of the rooms. I walked slowly back downstairs and shook my head at Melba’s interrogative glance. “Not up there,” I said.

We checked the other rooms downstairs, a small conference room across the hall from Melba’s office, another room full of files and books, the rather dilapidated kitchen, and finally the room that had been turned into a staff lounge eons ago. All vacant.

I peered out a window in the lounge that looked onto the small parking lot behind the building. “Oscar’s car is gone,” I said.