books and catalogs rested on every available flat surface. Notes fluttered from her small bulletin board. The town had outgrown the facility a number of years ago, far longer than the past two or so years that they had spent planning the new building. Not even continued weeding of books and materials could create enough space for everything and everyone.
Elise made no apology for the condition of the room. It was something she just couldn’t help. She took a seat behind her work station and nodded toward the empty chair. “Our ability to make coffee is hampered, of course,” she said. “But if you’d care to have some, I’m sure we can find someone who wouldn’t mind...”
“No need,” he said, folding his length into the proffered chair. His gaze once again searched the room before alighting on Elise. “Actually, I have a proposition to put to you. Why don’t we postpone this meeting for a day or two? Possibly even longer than that. You have your hands full now and I’m in no great hurry. I can wait.”
Elise had managed to school her face of all emotion, but at his suggestion, she jerked forward, her expression intent. “But we can’t do that!” she cried. “The new library can’t wait! You’ve seen how bad the situation is here. You’ve heard about the roof...and that’s not all! I love this old house. I’ve loved it all the years I’ve worked here and even before, when I came as a child to use it. But we’ve reached the point where we just can’t stay any longer—not with everything like it is. We have to build the new library. Either that or we make the necessary repairs, and I’m afraid that after all the money the town’s already spent on plans and contracts and fees, there won’t be enough money left to... Then we’ll lose everything—buildings, books...”
She stopped, her throat tightening. He didn’t need to know all that. She didn’t need to tell him.
After a moment he said, “A day or two won’t matter at this stage. Relax a bit. You can’t build a new library all on your own. That’s why I’m here. To see if I can help.”
“But...”
Robert Fairmont, professor of architecture at the University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, leaned forward to still the fingers that worked against each other on top of her desk. His smile flashed reassurance. “Relax,” he repeated softly. “In a few days we can talk. Say, on Friday. In the meantime, you can get things under control here, and I’ll go over the plans I have from the firm in greater detail. The time won’t be wasted.”
As she listened to him speak, Elise felt the tension she had been carrying all day melt away, as if his certainty could protect her. It was a nice feeling; her burdens had somehow been lifted. But the magic didn’t last. The difficulties both she and the town faced could not be ignored for long. She pulled her hands away, severing their connection. Still, what he said about delaying the consultation made sense. With all the people working nearby, she would be divided in her allegiance. She would want to be in both places at once. “All right,” she agreed tightly. “We’ll meet again on Friday.”
“Good,” he said, smiling. Then he stood up.
Elise remained in her chair. She continued to stare at him, completely unaware, for the moment, of what she was doing. Then she, too, got quickly to her feet, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She was a competent woman. People trusted her to do the right thing. They trusted her with the growing minds of their children. She was responsible for every program and every book that came into or went out of the library. She was responsible for budget planning, for equipment purchases, for not indulging in gossip when she was in the perfect job for it. She knew everyone’s tastes, everyone’s interests, and sometimes, it seemed, everyone’s problems. Yet at this moment she felt like a little girl again, off center, off balance. It had to be the day, she told herself. It had to be.
She led him back to the Biography Room, but just outside the door, she paused to say stiltedly, “Don’t feel you have to help any longer. You shouldn’t have been pressed into service in the first place. We have enough people now. There’s no need for you to stay.”
He met her look levelly. “I helped because I wanted to. I love books and old houses. I think I’ll stay a little longer...that is, if it’s all right with you.”
Elise shrugged, trying to maintain some kind of cool facade. “As you wish, Mr.... Professor...”
“Robert,” he suggested. “Just call me Robert. And I’ll call you Elise.”
Elise’s heart jumped when he said her name, a fact that startled her. What was wrong with her? Maybe she should go see Dr. Baron and have another checkup.
“All right,” she murmured, and walking into the damaged room, she headed directly for the safe harbor that was Josephine.
She tried not to notice Robert Fairmont as he worked—that after checking to see if Patrick had further need of him, he started to shift the fallen debris, carrying out the larger pieces of plaster Elise had pushed to one side and disposing of the rest with a dustpan, broom and mop.
Then she tried desperately not to notice that she had noticed.
ELISE GUIDED her Escort into the garage, the long day having finally taken its toll. At the moment she felt every bit of her fifty-three years. In fact, she felt a hundred and fifty-three! Her head ached, her back ached, her feet ached. She had been too exhausted to do more than pick at her food earlier when someone was kind enough to bring dinner to the volunteers at the church hall. But at least they had gotten the job done. Most of the books were now resting jauntily on end, their pages fanned open, continuing the process of drying. And the books that needed to be sent away and were valuable enough for the library to justify the costly procedure of reclaiming them had been frozen as procedure dictated. In all, only a small number would likely be lost. Considering everything, they had gotten off lightly. If the leak had been larger, or if it had occurred somewhere else—say, over the Tyler Collection that she had spent years gathering and that contained archival papers of the town’s history as well as old photographs that couldn’t be replaced... Elise shuddered at the thought. The day would have been a catastrophe. Now the only difficulty was the worrisome fact that such a catastrophe could still occur. If the pipes in one section of the library were in such poor condition, it stood to reason that pipes elsewhere could be the same. Not to mention the condition of the roof. Elise shook her head in quick denial. She didn’t want to think about the condition of the roof!
After gathering her purse and jacket, she let herself out of the car. Where once her suit had been crisp and smart, the skirt and blouse now looked to be in almost as wretched a condition as her dress had earlier. She hadn’t bothered to go home again to change into clothes suitable for the book rescue work. She hadn’t wanted to take the time. So she’d just removed her jacket and set to work. And after an afternoon spent wiping down shelves and walls and floors, and an evening supervising the transfer of water-damaged books, her clothes might never be the same.
Elise fitted her key into the back door lock and stepped inside the house that she and Bea had lived in for most of their adult lives. The design was perfect for Bea’s needs, and what wasn’t had been altered. Their parents had bought and refitted the house just a few years before their deaths.
Distinctive theme music from a popular television drama spilled out of the living room, alerting Elise to the presence of the others. She knew Josephine was there because her car was parked at the end of the sidewalk.
Both women looked up when
