Melba thought for a moment. “I did a little touch-up about nine thirty, after I finished my coffee. Usually I check it before I leave for lunch, and then when I get back. But I was in a hurry to get out the door for lunch and didn’t check. Oscar had so much urgent work waiting for me the minute I got back from lunch, and I never even thought about checking my lipstick.”
“I saw Oscar in the parking lot with his car not long after three thirty,” I said. “That’s a big window of opportunity for someone to steal the lipstick. Depending, of course, on when the lipstick was used on Oscar’s windshield. Who came into your office today?”
“Lisa Krause, for one,” Melba said right away. “Oscar wanted to talk to her about something, and it was after nine thirty when she showed up.” She frowned. “I’m pretty sure I went to the ladies’ room while she was with him, so I guess she had the opportunity.”
“Was she still with him when you came back from the ladies’ room?” I asked. “You weren’t gone that long, were you?”
“No, I wasn’t,” Melba said. “But I didn’t leave my desk for probably a good ten minutes, though, after she went in to Oscar’s office. I was gone probably five minutes, max, and she’d left by then.”
Lisa was so distraught over Oscar’s accusation that I supposed she could have decided to get back at him with a prank. I didn’t think, however, that she would do such a juvenile thing.
“Anyone else come into the office?” I hoped there were more viable suspects besides Lisa.
“Delbert Winston came along right after Oscar and I finished our little meeting.” She grimaced. “I went to the ladies’ room again and stayed there for at least ten minutes. Delbert was gone by the time I came back.”
Delbert Winston, the head of the cataloging department, who also did minor repairs on damaged books, had a small run-in with Oscar the first week Oscar took over, I recalled. Something to do with supplies Delbert ordered and that Oscar canceled. Delbert, only a couple of years away from retirement, didn’t strike me as a strong candidate for the role of practical joker. I didn’t think he would risk being fired if caught doing something like this. I figured Oscar would make sure the culprit lost his or her job, if the truth ever came out.
“That’s two people,” I said. “Nobody else?”
Melba shook her head. “Not while I was in the office. Oscar was gone part of the time, and then I was up in your office for a good ten minutes. Anyone could have come in and stolen the lipstick then.”
It was more like twenty minutes, but I hadn’t begrudged her the time.
“I hope neither Lisa nor Delbert was involved,” I said. “I like them both. This one’s up to Chief Ford to handle.” A thought struck me. “There’s another question. Where did the petroleum jelly on the windshield come from?”
“Beats me.” Melba shrugged. “I didn’t have any in my desk or in my purse. I guess the joker must have had it on him. Or her.”
I nodded. “I suppose so. Well, enough of that. I have something to share. Penny Sisson called me this afternoon and told me about the complaint. I went to talk to her, and I told her that I thought Oscar wasn’t telling the truth.” I grinned. “She didn’t say anything outright, but I could tell she doesn’t care much for Oscar, either.”
“Probably she’s had to deal with other complaints from him, or about him.” Melba laughed. “At least we know we’re not the only ones who hate his guts.”
“You need to go to HR first thing in the morning. Tell Penny about this, and get your own complaint on record. If they receive enough complaints, they’ll have to do something.”
Melba nodded. “I already made an appointment for tomorrow morning. Remember, you suggested I do that this afternoon.”
“You’re right,” I said. “It slipped my mind, thanks to all the goings-on.” I laughed. “I have a feeling Penny’s going to be busy tomorrow.”
Melba’s eyes narrowed. “What is it you’re not telling me?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I can’t break a confidence. All you need to know is that Oscar has targeted another person besides the two of us. This person is also going to file a complaint. I realize now that I need to file a countercomplaint myself.”
“You darn sure should,” Melba said. “I’d talk to that gorgeous lawyer son of yours.” She grinned suddenly. “I think maybe I’ll do that myself. He sure is good to look at.”
“Sean is here,” I said. “I was talking to him about all this right before you arrived. He ought to be down soon, if you want to stay and talk to him.”
“I’m surely tempted.” Melba rose from her chair. “But I’m going to wait till I’ve had time to talk to Penny tomorrow morning. Then I may give him a call.”
I rose to escort her out with Diesel right behind us. At the door, Melba turned and gave me a quick hug. She let me go before I could gather my wits enough to hug her back. She smiled and slipped out the door after one last scratch of the head for Diesel.
The door shut, I stood there for a moment with Diesel staring anxiously up at me. I rubbed his head while I thought about the situation at work. Peter Vanderkeller, the director who suddenly quit, wasn’t the best library director I’d ever worked for, but he was smart enough to let his staff do their jobs. As a consequence, the library ran smoothly, from everything I’d seen the past several years.
Now we were saddled with a man who did not have the right kind of personality to be an effective leader, nor did he have any understanding of the workings of an academic library. He might be a wizard with financial machinations, but as the person in charge of a library, he was a complete dud.
I wondered if it would do any good to approach the president of the college directly and express my concerns. He had seemed like a sensible man, a good leader—until he foisted Oscar Reilly on the library. That was a spectacular error in judgment. I feared that, if no action was taken soon to stop Oscar’s bizarre behavior, excellent staff members might quit, even if they really couldn’t afford to. Or Oscar might start firing people he didn’t like.
Diesel trilled loudly, and I came out of my reverie to see him regarding me with what looked like alarm.
I smiled at him. “I’m okay, buddy, I promise. I was only thinking hard about something. Let’s go back to the kitchen so I can check on my dinner.”
The cat gave a couple of happy meows, and back to the kitchen we went. I checked the casserole and adjusted the heat upward again. My dinner ought to be ready in less than ten minutes.
“Who was at the door?” Sean asked as he strode into the kitchen carrying a small canvas tote bag in one hand. He set the bag on the table after a wary glance at the cat. He had learned early on not to set anything like that on the floor unless he wanted Diesel to pull everything out and then try to insert himself in it.
“Melba.” I recounted her story to Sean, and he rolled his eyes.
“This guy is really rocking for a knocking,” he said. “What is he hoping to accomplish, I wonder? Is he deliberately trying to screw things up, or is he just a nutcase?”
“I can’t decide,” I said. “I’ve been thinking I might go to the president and talk about the situation with him.”
Sean shook his head and fixed me with his stern gaze. “No, Dad, you shouldn’t do that. If this Reilly finds out about it, then the situation gets more complicated. You don’t want trouble from that.” His gaze softened. “I know you want to help Melba, but in this case you have to let things work out without you getting any more involved than you have to.”
“You’re right.” I sighed. “I have to stifle this impulse I have to rush in and try to make things better. The good Lord knows this situation doesn’t need any more complications.” I went back to the oven and checked the casserole. It looked ready, so I grabbed oven mitts, pulled it out, and set it on a trivet on the table.
“Do you have time for a bite?” I asked. “One of Azalea’s specialties, chicken and mushrooms with rice.”