Twelve Angry Librarians

I smiled and walked into the kitchen behind him. After giving Diesel water, I realized I was thirsty. I remedied that, and then I thought about the evening ahead. That in turn reminded me of what Kanesha had told me about Marisue and Randi. I was concerned that they hadn’t talked to Kanesha yet. What was going on?

I pulled out my phone to send Marisue a text. Where are you? Everything ok? Deputy Berry needs to talk to you.

If I didn’t hear back from Marisue in a few minutes, I would text Randi. I wasn’t sure what I would do if neither of them texted back.

About three minutes later my phone signaled that I had received a message. From Marisue: Leaving ER headed back to hotel. Will call soon.

The ER? I was sure she meant the emergency room. Good grief, what on earth could have happened to them?

I didn’t have to remain in suspense for long. Marisue called moments later.

“Sorry for the cryptic message, Charlie.” She sounded a bit out of breath. “We’d just got into the taxi to go back to the hotel. We’re both okay. Randi tripped and landed hard on her left arm while we were out on the square.”

“Oh my goodness, did she break her arm?”

“Yes, but thankfully it was a clean break,” Marisue said. “She’s not feeling too perky at the moment, and she’s half gaga on pain pills, but she’ll be all right.”

“Thank goodness,” I said. “Well, no wonder neither of you was responding to Kanesha’s messages. I guess she didn’t have your cell phone numbers.”

“No, she wouldn’t have,” Marisue replied. “Look, we’re pulling up to the hotel. I’ve got to get Randi into her room and settled down. I think she’ll probably nap for a while. As soon as I can I will call Deputy Berry, I promise.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “In the meantime, if there’s anything I can do to help you both, please let me know.”

“Will do.” Marisue ended the call.

Poor Randi, I thought, breaking an arm while attending a library conference.Rotten luck. She wouldn’t feel much like talking for the rest of the day, I was sure. Hopefully Marisue would be able to answer Kanesha’s questions sufficiently in the meantime.

I wondered if Randi’s accident would keep Marisue from coming to the after-reception party in Lisa’s suite tonight. I supposed it depended on how much assistance Randi needed. Probably the main thing she needed at the moment was rest and quiet. I’d never broken a limb, and thankfully neither had either of my children or my late wife. I didn’t have any experience with looking after anyone with a broken arm.

A glance at my watch confirmed that I had time to take a nap myself before I needed to head back to the Farrington House. I decided that, since I wanted to take Diesel with me, I would take a pass on the reception at five thirty and instead have an early dinner at home before the party in Lisa’s suite.

“Come on, Diesel,” I said. “Let’s go upstairs and rest, okay?” He looked at me and chirped. He liked taking naps with me. We headed up to my bedroom and got comfortable. I drifted off not long after.

I must have been more tired than I realized. When I woke and checked the clock, I was surprised to see I had slept for nearly two hours. I had never been one of those people who was totally with it and ready to go at the moment of awakening. It took me several minutes before I was ready to sit up and get out of bed. Diesel woke up when I did, but he sat up and stretched. Then he began grooming himself.

My brain continued to feel foggy until I had bathed my face in cold water and put my clothes back on. I had a little over an hour before I needed to leave for the party at the hotel. Time enough for dinner, at least.

Diesel padded down the stairs along with me. The kitchen was dark, and that was unusual. Stewart must have turned out the lights before he either went upstairs or left the house. I couldn’t remember offhand what his and Haskell’s plans were for this evening. I figured Haskell might still be on duty, thanks to the double homicide investigation.

I was hungry, but I didn’t feel like taking one of Azalea’s casseroles from the freezer and heating it up. Instead I decided on a couple of ham sandwiches, along with the last of the potato salad Stewart made a couple of days ago. That bottle of diet soda I’d looked at earlier provided my beverage for the meal. No dessert tonight, since I would no doubt find things to nibble on at the party. Not to mention, my conscience reminded me, that sinful dessert I’d had at lunchtime.