Twelve Angry Librarians

Once Diesel yawned and appeared to go to sleep, I allowed my thoughts to return to the information I had learned about the librarians who had attended Gavin’s party.

The source of the cyanide—keeping in mind that I didn’t know for sure that cyanide was the murder weapon—was key to the solution. Any of these eight people could have ordered cyanide over the Internet, obviously. But if several of them had sources closer to hand, it was possible they had obtained the cyanide that way.

I realized, of course, that I was spending a lot of time on this—time that no doubt could have been better spent focusing on the major life decision I had looming before me. But I didn’t want to think about that decision right now, or about the decision facing my daughter and son-in-law. It was easier to let myself be distracted by the double murder, even if all my speculation and information gathering turned out to be useless. Kanesha possessed the actual facts in the case—as far as they were known at the moment, that is. I didn’t.

Kanesha. I promised to e-mail her with the information I had received earlier from Marisue and Randi about Gavin’s expensive car and my idea that he could have been blackmailing people to get the money for it. There was the information about the party to share as well, although I hoped Lisa Krause would tell Kanesha about that. I needed to get back to the computer to take care of it. I didn’t like composing e-mails of any great length on my phone. It was simply too tedious.

The cat resting partly on my lap and partly on the sofa deterred me for a few moments longer. I eased Diesel off my lap, got up from the sofa, and let him stretch out. He opened his eyes, yawned, and then closed his eyes again. He seemed content to let me leave him there.

At the computer I opened my home e-mail, and a few minutes later I sent Kanesha a message containing the information I had promised to send her. Whether she would find it helpful, I didn’t know, but at least she had it.

My cell phone rang, and I picked it up to see who was calling. Laura.

My heart started racing. Was she calling to tell me they’d made a decision about Virginia?

TWENTY-FOUR

My hand trembled so badly I almost dropped the phone on the floor. I managed to tighten my hold on it, though, and tapped the icon to answer the call.

“Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” I was thankful my voice didn’t waver.

“Hi, Dad,” Laura said. “I’m a little tired, as usual, but otherwise okay. How has the conference been going?”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to give my daughter any reason to worry, because she had more than enough to occupy her mind right now. “It’s been okay, a few hiccups. I’ll tell you all about it later.” I hoped she wouldn’t press me for details. I would tell her about the murders another time.

“Better you than me.” Laura giggled. “I don’t care much for meetings like that, especially these days.”

“No, I suppose not,” I said.

“I know you’ve been wondering about this big decision we’re having to make,” Laura said. “We haven’t made it yet, although I think Frank is really leaning toward accepting the job.”

My heart sank. I tried to form words but couldn’t.

Laura continued without apparently noticing my lack of comment. “He’s told his department chair about the offer, though, and she’s invited us to dinner tomorrow night. I know she’s not happy about losing him, so I’m pretty sure she wants to try to talk him out of it. She asked him not to make a final decision until after dinner tomorrow night.”

Now I was able to speak. “Do you think she has a chance of changing his mind?” I hoped the woman would be able to come up with enough money and perks to keep Frank and Laura in Athena.

“I don’t really know, Dad. He knows I’m concerned about leaving so soon after the baby is born, but we’re both aware of the advantages of the new job.”

“I want what’s best for you, you know that,” I said. “But I’m going to be praying that the department chair manages to find some incentives to keep Frank here.”

Laura sighed. “Me, too, Dad. We probably won’t see you until sometime after we’ve had that dinner tomorrow night, but I’ll let you know what happens.”

“All right, sweetheart,” I said. “Try not to worry. I know you and Frank will make the best choice for all three of you.”

“Thanks,” Laura said. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I put down the phone and stared blankly at the computer screen. I hated this feeling of suspension—waiting for the worst to happen, even though there was a chance it wouldn’t. I wanted to know now, to end this tension one way or the other, but I knew it wasn’t possible.

I also wished I could make up my mind about my own future. Did I really want to work full-time again? With two grandchildren soon to be born, did I want to be tied down to the nine-to-five routine five days a week? Then I thought about how much I had been enjoying—for the most part—the work I was doing as the interim director. I would miss that if I didn’t take the job.