James, Miranda - Out of Circulation (CAT IN THE STACKS MYSTERY)

Miss An’gel strode purposefully to the corner of the room where Morty had pulled a furious Vera. Miss Dickce went to talk to Hank and Sissy.

Stewart, Helen Louise, and I stared at one another. “I’ve never seen Miss An’gel so angry,” Stewart said after a moment. We continued to watch uneasily. I couldn’t hear either of the low-voiced discussions going on, and I wondered whether Vera or Sissy—or perhaps both of them—would be sent home in disgrace.

Teresa Farmer and Cathy Williams, the final two board members, walked into the parlor then. They paused after only a few steps and glanced uncertainly around the room. Stewart hurried over to them and urged them forward to where Helen Louise and I waited.

We all exchanged greetings, and Stewart explained quickly that there had been an argument between Vera and Sissy. He didn’t elaborate, but apparently he didn’t have to. From what I could see, as they both shook their heads, Teresa and Cathy seemed aware of the reasons that Vera and Sissy were at odds. The grapevine in Athena had sturdy roots and long tendrils. There were probably few people in town who weren’t part of it.

As we waited in silence to see what would happen next, I took a moment to identify the characters Cathy and Teresa had chosen to portray. That was certainly better than dwelling on the unpleasantness.

Cathy wore a caftan in a colorful print, with a scarf wound around her head, and long earrings dangled from her earlobes. I knew she was a huge fan of Alexander McCall Smith, so it took little imagination to peg her as Mma Precious Ramotswe of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency in Botswana.

Teresa, wearing a long black wig, her torso encased in leather and a metal bra, sported a costume like the one Lucy Lawless wore as Xena, Warrior Princess. Armbands, knee-high boots, dagger at her belt—she looked fierce and ready for combat. Since public librarians often had to campaign hard for their funding, I had to admire her choice. I also knew that, behind Teresa’s normally modest and easygoing demeanor, there lurked a strong and determined will.

Miss An’gel turned away from Vera and Morty, and Vera scuttled from the room. Morty glanced over at Sissy and Hank. The naked yearning in his face unnerved me. Sissy ignored him, though Hank stared back at him. Morty trailed off after his wife.

“There will be no more such incidents tonight.” Miss An’gel’s implacable tone made me want to squirm, as if I were somehow at fault. “Vera will remain, but I trust that you will all stay out of her way until the gala is over. I will not have this event ruined by sordid personal matters.” She glared hard at Sissy and Hank as she uttered that last sentence.

Sissy and Hank both reddened, but they nodded.

“Our guests will be arriving any minute now,” Miss An’gel continued. “I suggest you all station yourselves in the hallway to greet them. I am going to check with the caterer but will return shortly.” Without waiting for a response, she moved in stately fashion from the room.

“I’d better go with her,” Miss Dickce said after a moment, and she, too, went out.

“All right, kiddies,” Stewart said, “time to get to work.” He began to herd us all into the hallway.

Helen Louise and I took up position near the grand staircase while the others ranged themselves around the entranceway. The butler waited by the front door, and I wondered how much of the brouhaha in the parlor he had heard. The door stood open the entire time, so if he had been in the hall he’d probably heard most of it. More grist for the gossip mill, but there was nothing any of us could do about it now.

I hoped the hordes were advancing up the walk right this minute. The sooner the house filled with people, the better. Plus, the less likely—or so I hoped—that we would witness further histrionics from the board members.

The doorbell rang, and the butler went into action. The first arrivals came into the hallway, and others quickly followed. Soon there were at least thirty people milling about, and Helen Louise and I did our duty and greeted as many of them as possible and complimented them on their costumes.

The crowd parted for a moment, and I saw three people admitted, two of whom I recognized. Kanesha Berry, chief deputy of the Athena County Sheriff’s Department, strode in, accompanied by her mother, Azalea. Behind them came a tall, striking black man. He appeared to acompany Kanesha, and that intrigued me. I knew almost nothing about Kanesha’s private life, other than the fact that she was unmarried and had no children. Azalea complained about these two lamentable states from time to time.

Azalea didn’t appear to be in costume, unless her sensible print dress, short jacket, and comfortable shoes were clues to a character I didn’t recognize. Frankly, I wasn’t surprised because somehow I couldn’t see Azalea consenting to dress up as someone else.

Kanesha, on the other hand, was dressed in far different fashion from the manner in which I usually encountered her. No uniform tonight—instead she wore a sleek, bright orange pantsuit, and large bangles in her ears. Her hair was pulled severely back with a large bun jutting upward. A purple and orange scarf cinched her waist, and her high-heeled purple pumps completed the outfit. I knew she was a mystery fan, but I hadn’t a clue whether she was dressed in costume or simply as herself.

Her companion, who looked to be at least six foot six, towered over her. His clothing was in stark contrast to Kanesha’s because he looked like he’d bought the cheapest things he could find and put them on without washing and ironing them first. Khakis with a sharp crease and a drab flannel shirt with the collar of a T-shirt just visible at his neckline. Except for his height, he would blend into the woodwork, but perhaps that was the intention.

It took me a moment—because I hadn’t yet read any of the books—but I figured it out. Jack Reacher, the hero of Lee Child’s series. Teresa was a big fan, I knew, and we had talked about the series several times.

Kanesha spotted Helen Louise and me and looked up at her companion. They spoke briefly, then approached us along with Azalea.

“Good evening, Azalea.” Helen Louise extended a hand, and my housekeeper grasped it briefly. “How lovely to see you here tonight.”

“Somebody insisted I had to tag along.” Azalea glowered at her daughter. “Ain’t got much use for dressing up and carrying on. Especially knowing who’s going to be here.”

That was probably a reference to Vera Cassity, and I sent up a quick but fervent prayer that Vera stayed out of Azalea’s way.

“Mama, I’m sure you’d enjoy yourself if you tried.” Kanesha’s long-suffering tone elicited another hard glance from her mother.

“I understand, Azalea, believe me.” I smiled. “I’d much rather be home right now. All these people milling around make me feel tired.”

“You a homebody like me, Mr. Charlie.” Azalea nodded in approval. “Although you do get to gadding about sometimes and being nosy.”

“Mama.” Kanesha invested the word with years of wrangling with her parent. I sympathized with her, especially given my recent experience with Azalea.

“Evening, folks.” Kanesha’s friend spoke, probably tired of waiting for his companion to recall her manners and introduce him. He stuck out a hand. “Robert Sharp. Nice to meet you.”

I quickly introduced myself and Helen Louise.

“You’ve been in my bakery a couple of times,” she said. “As I recall you’re pretty fond of my bacon and onion quiche.”

“Yes, ma’am, I surely am.” Sharp’s slow drawl marked him as a fellow Southerner, and I wondered whether he’d grown up in Athena. “I can’t eat it too often, though, have to watch my cholesterol.”