I glanced around the room, searching for them. I had hoped they would come find me, but at the moment I didn’t see them anywhere. I also hadn’t spotted Gavin Fong, and that was fine with me. The longer I went without contact with the toad, the happier I would be.
“Hi, there, Mr. Harris.”
I turned to see a tall, willowy blonde approach me. She appeared to be in her midsixties and wore a tailored suit in a shade of aquamarine that suited her figure and coloring admirably. I had never seen her before that I could recall.
She extended a hand, and I took it. “Good afternoon.” I smiled. “I must apologize. If we have met before, I’m afraid I don’t remember it.”
The stranger laughed, a pleasant, throaty sound. “No need to apologize. We’ve not met before. I’m Nancy Dunlap. I’m director of the library at a school in Louisiana. I was hoping to meet you, and to meet that wonderful Maine Coon cat of yours. I’ve heard about him, you see.”
“I’m afraid he doesn’t do well in large crowds,” I replied. “He’s back in the office with my administrative assistant. He’s quite friendly, but too many people at once tend to overwhelm him.”
Nancy Dunlap inclined her head. “Of course, and I should have realized that had I given it much thought. I was excited about the opportunity. Both of you are apparently rather well-known here in Athena.”
Oh dear, I thought. She’s heard about the murders I’ve been involved in and is going to pump me for details.
I must have betrayed my dismay in my expression. She waved a hand in my direction. “No, no, not to worry. I’m not going to ask about anything to do with murder. Not my cup of tea.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I must admit to being curious as to how you heard about Diesel.”
She laughed again. “One of my dearest friends lives here in Athena. Has done for many years. I don’t imagine you know her. Sandra Wallesch. We exchange letters regularly, and she’s written about you and your cat.”
I searched my memory, but I couldn’t recall ever having met the woman.
Nancy Dunlap continued before I could reply. “I believe she is a friend of a friend of yours. A woman named Melba Gilley.”
I smiled. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met your friend, though Melba might have mentioned her to me at some point. I’ve known Melba since childhood, and she has so many friends it’s impossible to keep track of them all.”
I was about to continue with an invitation for Nancy Dunlap to drop by my office tomorrow morning, but before I could get the words out, she scowled. What had I done to offend her?
“You’ll have to excuse me,” she said in a rush of words. “I see someone coming toward us that I have no desire whatsoever to talk to. I’m sure I’ll run into you again.”
With that she turned and hurried away. I glanced in the direction she had been looking before her departure, and I spotted Gavin Fong loping toward me.
I was tempted to walk off as if I hadn’t seen him, but I was too late. Seconds later he halted about two feet from me. He was as reed thin as he was the last time I saw him, over twenty-five years ago. He blinked at me through thick glasses, and his hair, once jet-black, was now threaded with gray. His skin looked sallow and unhealthy, and his shoulders hunched forward like those of a much older man. His neck and head jutted forward as though he were a turtle. I had to look down to meet his gaze. He seemed to have shrunk a couple of inches since I’d last seen him. Maybe it was the atrocious posture, probably the result of too many hours spent peering at a computer screen. He had been more interested in computers than in his fellow human beings back when I knew him, and I doubted that had changed in the years since.
His baleful gaze didn’t bother me. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a middle finger. I wanted to roll my eyes at such a childish display, but I refrained. I waited for him to speak.
“Where’s your wife? I figured she’d be here with you.” His voice still sounded high and whiny.
“Dead.”
That disconcerted him. Either his acting had improved significantly, or he honestly hadn’t been aware of Jackie’s death several years ago.
“Uh, sorry.” Then Gavin mumbled for a moment, and I couldn’t make out the words.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” I said.
Gavin shrugged. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Had he said a brief prayer? I wondered. Or was he responding to a voice in his head?
I started to edge away from him, and he held out a hand, almost—but not quite—touching my arm. “Hang on,” he said.
“What is it you want, Gavin?” I knew I sounded irritable, but at the moment I didn’t care whether anyone overheard us.
“You never did respond to my e-mail.” Gavin blinked at me, his eyes eerily magnified by his lenses. “You aren’t qualified to keep the job permanently. You don’t have any publications to your credit that I could find. Your background is public libraries. You’re simply not a worthy candidate.”
“Unlike you?” I invested those two words with every ounce of sarcasm I could muster, but I had forgotten how oblivious Gavin was to such responses.
“Most assuredly.” He began to recite the positions he had held and tick them off on his fingers. I waited until he was nearly done before I interrupted.
“Do you seriously think a school like Athena College is going to be impressed with your pathetic record of moving from one job to another every three years? It’s painfully obvious to anyone with even a quarter of a brain that you weren’t fit for the positions you managed to wangle yourself into somehow.” I paused for a breath. “You’re either grossly incompetent or impossible to get along with, or perhaps both, and I’ll be skating on ice in the underworld before you get anywhere near the job.”
Even a man as obtuse as Gavin couldn’t help but understand me. I had obviously managed to penetrate the fog of self-importance that clung to him. He scowled, took one step back, and swung at me.
I had anticipated him, though, and easily stepped away. He came at me again, and once more I moved out of reach. The third time he tried to hit me, I’d had enough. My temper took over, and I decked him with a swift right to the jaw.
SIX
Luckily for both of us, I hadn’t hit Gavin as hard as I could have. He landed on his rear, his glasses askew but still on his head. I stood looking down at him, watching lest he try to come after me again.
As the moments passed and he stayed sitting on the floor, my temper began to cool. I started to feel sorry for him. I had spoken harshly and provocatively, and I realized belatedly I had baited him, hoping he would attack. Well, my temper had won that round.
“Sorry, Gavin, I shouldn’t have done that.” I extended a hand to help him up.
Instead of taking the proffered hand, he scooted away from me, still on his rear, until he was several feet back from where I stood. I shrugged and watched while he slowly got to his feet, after first having straightened his glasses.
“Oh, Gavin, you poor thing.” A woman rushed up to Gavin and clutched his arm. “Are you all right? I saw the whole thing.”
Gavin rubbed his jaw and glared balefully at me. “I’m okay, Maxine.” He brushed her arm away. “I’m glad you saw this unprovoked attack on me. You can be my witness when I bring charges for assault against this ape.”
“But you tried to hit him first.” The woman, who looked to be about forty-five, hovered anxiously around Gavin. She made no further attempt to touch him, however. “That’s not going to look good, and you know what Dr. Elmwood told you the last time you tried to hit someone.”