Twelve Angry Librarians

When Stewart returned with the second ice pack, he hovered nearby while I took off my pants, then helped me position myself in bed with the two ice packs. Diesel stretched out on the bed next to me and continued to watch.

“I’ll be back in a little while to check on you, maybe refresh those ice packs if you need me to.” Stewart turned off the overhead light and switched on the reading lamp by the window. He came back to stand by the bed.

“Thank you. You’re an excellent nurse.” On impulse I added, “I’m really thankful you are part of my family.”

Stewart smiled down at me. He squeezed my unhurt shoulder for a moment. “I’m thankful, too. Any time you need me, I will always be here for you,” he said softly. Then he slipped out of the room.

Diesel yawned beside me, and he soon fell asleep. I felt a little drowsy, thanks to the aspirin, but the cold spots at my head and my shoulder reminded me that I still ached. My hands hurt a bit as well.

It could have been a lot worse, I told myself. I wondered what Gavin had used to hit me. I didn’t think it was his hand, or hands. He wasn’t the martial arts type, as far as I knew. Whatever he used, he hit hard, but not hard enough to kill.

Had he meant to do more than knock me out? I didn’t know why that thought hadn’t occurred to me before. I felt a little sick to my stomach as I considered the possibility.

Had he been trying to kill me? Did he really hate me that much?

Or did he want my job badly enough to commit murder for it?

TEN

Stewart woke me twice during the night, and each time I came awake quickly. The second time I got up and took more aspirin, then went back to bed and fell promptly asleep. When I woke the third time, the bedside clock told me it was nearly seven. Diesel was gone from the room, and I suspected he was downstairs in the kitchen with Azalea.

I tested the back of my head. Sore, but not as painful as I expected. My shoulder had stiffened, but a hot shower ought to help that. My hands remained sore, and I needed to clean the cuts again and dab them with some antibiotic ointment.

In the shower, while I let the hot water hit my stiff shoulder, I thought about the attack. I had a gut feeling Gavin was responsible, but I had no way to prove it. Maybe he owed me that much, since I knocked him off his feet twice in twenty-five years.

I had talked to Helen Louise last night, the first time Stewart woke me. It was around ten o’clock then, and I knew she ought to be home and getting ready for bed. I didn’t keep her on the phone long because I knew how tired she was after a full day at the bistro. I also didn’t tell her about the incident with Gavin. I didn’t think anyone else would tell her about it before I had a chance to, and I didn’t want her lying awake, worrying, when she needed rest. I would tell her about it when we were face-to-face so that she could see that I was okay.

Twenty minutes later, showered, shaved, and dressed for the conference, I went downstairs. To my surprise I found my son at the table, eating a hearty breakfast. Diesel greeted me first. Sean waved a fork in greeting. I could see he was busy chewing.

I greeted Azalea in the meantime, and she poured coffee for me while I took my accustomed place at the table. When Sean could speak properly, he said, “Morning, Dad. What’s this I hear about you getting in fights yesterday?”

I had a sip of coffee before I replied. “Is that why you’re here this morning, instead of at home with your wife? Did you come to lecture me?”

That sounded more hostile than I intended, but Sean paid no mind.

“Alex had to leave for Jackson early this morning for a trial, and I needed to talk to you.” He grinned. “And somehow I figured Azalea might have a few extra crumbs to feed me.”

Azalea set my plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and grits on the table, along with a smaller plate of biscuits. She regarded Sean with an indulgent smile. “Always like to see a man eating a hearty meal, Mr. Sean. No trouble cracking a couple extra eggs for you and throwing a few more slices of bacon on the skillet.”

“And I thank you most heartily in return, Azalea. There’s nothing to compare with your breakfast anywhere.” Sean sighed. “Those biscuits are so light and fluffy it’s a wonder they’re not floating off the table.”

Azalea shook her head at his fanciful description, but I could tell she was pleased. Sean didn’t exaggerate by much. Azalea’s were the lightest biscuits I’d ever had, and I had eaten way too many to count in my fifty-plus years.

“Now, Dad, about these fights.” Sean fixed me with a stern gaze, and I suppressed a sigh. Sometimes he was a little too lawyer-y for me, especially first thing in the morning.

“Yes, son, what do you want to know? I’m ready for my cross-examination.” I forked some scrambled eggs into my mouth and bit off some bacon to go with them.

“First, how are you feeling this morning? Do you need to go to the doctor?”