Миранда Джеймс - No Cats Allowed

I shook my head. “If she is really ill—which I doubt—I am truly sorry. But this gamesmanship of hers is trying what little patience I have left.”

“I understand how you feel,” Penny said. “After I received your e-mail to her, I did some digging in her personnel file. Some of this you can find out yourself by looking at annual reviews of her performance, so I will share that with you now. During the time she has been here, she has had several of these episodes that required bed rest. These episodes appear to have always coincided with times that she was in conflict with her supervisor.”

“I see.” I thought for a moment. “Tell me realistically, Penny, do we have any firm ground for firing her? We can’t keep tolerating behavior like this, although she’s evidently gotten away with it for years.”

“I would be happy to see her gone,” Penny said, “because she has caused trouble for years. Unfortunately, the documentation we have isn’t strong enough for us to be able to fire her for cause. Now, if we could find proof, for example, that she was behind any of the recent incidents, well, we would certainly have cause.”

“And the police might have cause to haul her off to jail, too.” I grinned. “I’ll talk with Chief Deputy Berry and Chief Ford about this, try to find out whether they have any evidence for who pulled those pranks, including smashing my windshield.”

“Good plan,” Penny said. “Let me know if you find out anything.” She rose to leave. “I’m so sorry you’re having to deal with her, Charlie, on top of everything else. Hopefully some good will come out of it.”

I rose and came around to see her out. “Thanks, Penny. We’ll get through it somehow. I appreciate your help tremendously.”

Diesel followed Penny into Melba’s office, and I returned to my desk. I had a meeting with the president and the deans of all the schools at ten, and I wanted to be prepared. I scanned the agenda that Forrest’s secretary had sent and reread an e-mail from Forrest outlining what he wanted me to present.

I left the office ten minutes before ten, admonishing Diesel to be a good boy. He wanted to come with me, but I didn’t think it appropriate to take him along. Until the college found a permanent library director, I would have to leave him in Melba’s care frequently. I knew I could trust her to look after him, but I really couldn’t make him understand why he couldn’t go with me.

My head ached by the time the meeting with the president and the deans had finished. I had just enough time to make a restroom stop and buy a can of diet soda from a vending machine before I met with the vice president in charge of finance. That meeting lasted only forty-five minutes, to my great relief. I came out of it with a clear understanding of the library’s finances, and we discussed the measures necessary to get the budget back on track after Peter’s disastrous overspending. I walked back to my office already tired and ready to go home for the day, but I had another meeting ahead of me.

Diesel greeted me with a series of meows and trills, all of which told me how disgusted he was with having been left behind. Melba smiled while she listened to me repeat several times, “I’m sorry, Diesel.”

When he lapsed into silence and smugly began to lick a front paw, I told Melba we were going home for a quick lunch. I had to be back in time for my two o’clock meeting with her friend in accounts payable.

“I’m going to lunch, too,” she said. “I’ll be back in time to watch over Mr. Chatty here for you.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You’re the best.”

She grinned. “I know.”

I had to make it a working lunch, although the thought of it annoyed me. I took my salad and sandwich to the den, where I powered up the laptop and logged in to the college network. I needed to catch up on e-mail. My first task was to compose a message to Kanesha and Marty Ford about Cassandra. The woman’s behavior was more than merely annoying. I also found it suspicious, despite her history. I had a hunch there was more to it this time than simply stonewalling her supervisor. If I couldn’t get through to her, perhaps Kanesha or Marty Ford could. Personally, I would love to watch Kanesha interrogate Cassandra. Ms. Brownley was a tough nut, but Chief Deputy Berry had cracked far tougher.

* * *

At three minutes to two, I knocked on the office door of Melba’s friend, Margie Flaxdale. A petite brunette, sixtyish and attractive, Ms. Flaxdale regarded me with a reserved expression from behind her desk.

“Yes?” she said.

“Charlie Harris,” I replied and stepped into the room. “I’m here to go through those library purchase orders and invoices.”

She nodded and pointed to a table in the corner. I saw three stacks of files, each about eight inches high. My heart sank. I’d never get through all those this afternoon.

“I will remind you that you cannot remove any of those files from this department,” she said, her tone admonitory. I felt like a third-grader being told not to talk in class.

“Certainly, I understand the rules.” I couldn’t hold back the note of frost in my words. The woman was a bit too officious for my taste.

She merely nodded. I went to the table, pulled out the chair, and attacked the closest pile of file folders. One of the spreadsheets I had found consisted of a ten-year history of the library’s major resource purchases—electronic journal collections, databases, and print resources. I was particularly interested in the current fiscal year and Peter Vanderkeller’s sudden overspending. There was something about it that bothered me, and I hadn’t been able to figure out exactly what.

The first pile of folders contained purchase orders and invoices from two fiscal years ago. I hunted through the piles and located those for the current year. I went through them, noting Peter’s signature on them. His handwriting had certainly deteriorated, I thought. His scrawl on these invoices was nearly illegible.

I realized I couldn’t really accomplish what I wanted sitting there. I needed copies that I could take to my office. This was a huge task and could take days. I closed the file and returned it to the stack.

I stood abruptly. “Thank you, Ms. Flaxdale. I appreciate your help.”

She looked startled. “That didn’t take long.”

“No, it didn’t. I have what I need,” I replied. I thanked her again and walked out of her office. I headed for the main library building. Despite my earlier intention to avoid going through the department head’s files there, in order not to arouse suspicion, I decided I had no choice. If I did alarm someone, that might not be a bad thing.

THIRTY-ONE

In the main library building I made straight for the staff area at the rear of the building. The files I wanted would most likely be in Cassandra’s office. As head of collection development and acquisitions, she was responsible for overseeing the purchase order and invoicing processes for library resources.

I greeted staff members as I passed through the public areas and continued into the technical services area. I saw Delbert Winston in his office, and the staff members appeared busy at their desks.

Cassandra’s door was locked, and I approached the ranking staff person in her department, Terrie Hall, and asked her if she had a key.

“No, sir,” she said, looking somewhat taken aback. “Delbert has one, though. It’s the same key that opens all the librarians’ doors.”

I thanked her and walked over to Delbert’s office. He had his back to me, evidently focused on his computer. I knocked on the door and said, “Good afternoon.” He started and swiveled in his chair to face me.

He blinked. “Oh, hi there, Charlie. What brings you here?”