“You’re in luck,” she said. “Those files were in the group that the idiot didn’t get to. I’ll pull them and bring them in to you in a minute. There’s fresh coffee, if you’d like some.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I could use some caffeine.” I set down my briefcase and was about to head to the kitchen for coffee when Melba stopped me.
“No, you go on and get to work. You’ve got a lot to do,” she said with a smile. “I’ll bring you some coffee.”
“That would be great. You really are the best.” I knew better than to argue with her. “Come on, Diesel, we’d better get to work.” I picked up the briefcase and, with the cat beside me, strode into my office.
Melba had indeed worked wonders while I was in the library staff meeting. The pile of papers I’d left on the desk was gone, filed expertly, and the bookshelves looked neat and more orderly than I’d left them. Diesel crawled under the desk and stretched out near my feet while I got comfortable at the computer and started looking through e-mail.
Melba came in a couple of minutes later with my coffee, and I decided I should tell her about my meeting with Cassandra. She chuckled when I finished recounting the one-sided conversation.
“Good for you,” she said. “It’s about dang time somebody told that witch off. Peter never would do anything about her.” She sniffed. “She should have been fired years ago, but nobody would stand up to her.”
“I don’t know whether it will do any good,” I said after a sip of coffee. “I told her I expected to see an appointment with her on my calendar by the end of the day. Let me know if she doesn’t comply. I’m not going to let up on her.”
“Will do,” Melba said. “I’ll be back in a minute with those files.”
I decided I had better e-mail Penny Sisson about the confrontation with Cassandra. Better to have it documented, because I wouldn’t put it past Cassandra to file a complaint with HR against me. I also wanted staff turnover information from HR, and I would compare that to what the department heads gave me.
I spent about ten minutes composing my message to Penny, during which time Melba came in and deposited three files on my desk. I nodded my thanks and kept working on the e-mail. I read it through a couple of times, tweaked it a little, and finally sent it.
A glance at the printed schedule Melba provided made me happy. No meetings the rest of the day today. On Monday morning, however, I was scheduled to meet with the president and the deans of the various schools for two hours. After that, I had a meeting with the vice president in charge of finance, no doubt to discuss the budget and the efforts to get it back on track. The rest of the afternoon was clear. There were a few meetings the rest of the week, but Wednesday was blank. No problem about meeting with the department heads in one-on-ones then.
In light of my Monday schedule I decided I had better spend the rest of the morning reviewing the budget. Dealing with budgets had never been anything I enjoyed, but they were a necessary evil.
By the time the lunch hour rolled around, I had a headache and blurry vision. Diesel had remained mostly quiet while I worked. Occasionally he went to Melba’s office but he spent a fair amount of time asleep under the desk by my feet.
When I told him we were going home for lunch, he perked up and meowed. “I agree,” I said. I left my briefcase. I had no plans to make this a working lunch.
I stopped to tell Melba we were headed out.
“I’ll be going in a few minutes myself,” she said. “I’ll make sure the offices are locked. See you in about an hour.”
Diesel and I headed down the hall to the back of the building. Though the skies outside remained gray and the wind had picked up a bit, there was no rain yet. Diesel ambled toward the car ahead of me, and I glanced at it and stopped as if stuck to the pavement.
The windshield was shattered.
TWENTY-FIVE
My blood pressure went through the roof, and it was a wonder I didn’t stroke out on the spot. Once the cloud of fury began to dissipate from my brain, I realized Diesel was trilling anxiously. I needed to calm down for his sake as well as my own. I drew a couple of deep breaths and rubbed the cat’s head and along his spine. Diesel quieted, and my heart rate slowed to a more normal pace.
Was the shattered windshield a sign from the murderer? Or had someone with a grudge done it for spite? And by someone with a grudge, I meant Cassandra Brownley.
I pulled out my cell phone and punched in the number for the campus police. I explained the situation tersely and requested that Chief Ford come if at all possible. I couldn’t stop staring at my car. The unnecessary expense of repairing it annoyed me, but the intent behind it both enraged and frightened me.
Was this a sign that I was the killer’s next target?
I stumbled back to the rear stoop and sat down. Diesel climbed up beside me and regarded me with concern. I put an arm around him and snuggled him close. I was suddenly afraid for him as well, because he could easily be a target in a campaign against me.
What was behind it? My brain kept circling back to that one question, but I could find no clear answer.
A campus police car pulled into the lot and parked near me. Chief Ford climbed out along with another officer. The subordinate went to look at my car while Ford came up to me and Diesel.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Your face is a bit red. Should I call emergency services?”
“No, I’ll be okay. My face is red because I’m furious.” I set Diesel gently aside and stood. “I’m trying to figure out what’s behind this.” I quickly related the morning’s events, including my confrontation with Cassandra. “Something I did or said must have made whoever did this angry, or perhaps afraid.”
“I apologize,” Ford said. “I should have put an officer on duty here, and I will now. Too late to stop this.” He waved a hand toward my car.
“You couldn’t have known,” I said. “I certainly wasn’t expecting anything like this.” Diesel meowed in agreement.
Ford smiled briefly at the cat. “Excuse me a moment while I go have a look at the damage.”
I resumed my seat on the stoop, and Diesel hunched up against me. I concentrated on keeping him calm and felt my blood pressure dropping to normal levels. I began to review the morning’s events, trying to find a hint to the motive for the damage.
I hoped it would turn out to be nothing more than a fit of pique on Cassandra’s part, taking out on my poor car what she couldn’t take out on me directly. That would be a pain to deal with, but it was better than knowing that it was a warning from the killer.
My stomach rumbled, and I realized how hungry I was. Stress often had this effect on me. I glanced at the sky. The clouds had receded somewhat, and the sun was trying to break through. Perhaps we could walk home and then back again without getting wet.
Ford returned to where I waited. “There’s a big rock in the driver’s seat,” he said. “Looks like it came from one of the flower beds around the main library building. We’ll get it tested for trace evidence, and if we’re lucky, we’ll find something to identify the prankster with.”
“Do you think that’s all it was?” I asked. “And not a warning?”
Ford shrugged. “Hard to say, but I’d advise you to be on your guard until the murder investigation is complete. Do you have an alarm system at home?”
“Yes,” I said, “but I don’t use it unless I’m going to be gone overnight and the house will be empty. Most of the time there is someone in the house even when I’m not.”
“Better use it even when you’re at home for now,” he said. “I will check on the whereabouts of the senior members of the library staff you mentioned.” He pulled out a notebook and repeated their names as he jotted them down.