Bachelor's Puzzle. Ginger Chambers

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.

       CHAPTER TWO

      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 Elise entered the room. The cat made the first move toward greeting, stirring her slightly pudgy body to get up, and then stretching her back into a high arch before starting a slow, regal walk toward the person who fed her. Tiny noises of pleasure sounded deep in her throat.

      “It’s certainly about time,” Bea pronounced shortly. “We’d just about given you up for dead!”

      Ignoring Bea’s remark, Josephine said, “You look exhausted. Were you able to finish?”

      Elise crouched to stroke the cat, who was rubbing against her legs in an ecstatic show of goodwill. “Buttercup...hello. My goodness, did you miss me?” She laughed lightly when Buttercup purred a response. Scooping the cat into her arms, she straightened and answered Josephine’s question. “Yes, thank goodness. At least, with this part. Of course, tomorrow the insurance people will come and we’ll have to see about getting the ceiling repaired. Not to mention arranging things with the vacuum-chamber people and continuing to work with the books at the church. Then we have to do something with all the books that didn’t get damp but had to be moved anyway. They’re just stacked haphazardly about. Then...” Buttercup grew restless and twisted to be set free. Elise released her, then claimed a seat on the couch for herself.

      “I’m sorry I asked,” Josephine murmured dryly, gazing at Elise with compassion.

      “So that means tomorrow is going to be another repeat of today,” Bea said tightly, not showing any compassion. “You’ll be away again all day and half the night.”

      “No, Bea,” Elise answered levelly. “Today was unusual because of the accident.”

      “I was going to give you five more minutes and then go to bed,” Bea snapped. “If you want to stay out all night, well, that’s up to you. But there are those of us who have to sleep!”

      “I’m home now, Bea,” Elise defended herself tiredly.

      “I told you to go to bed, Bea,” Josephine said, taking up Elise’s cause. “I told you I’d brush your hair.”

      “No.” Bea shook her head. “It’s the least Elise can do after being away each day for so long. And especially the way she abandoned me today.”

      Elise closed her eyes. Right now she didn’t think she had strength left to lift the brush.

      “Let me do it for you tonight,” Josephine urged. “Just this once.”

      Bea gathered her possessions onto her lap, adjusting the wheelchair as needed. She collected her magazine, her sewing, her tissues, her wrap. “Elise can do as she wants,” she replied primly. “If she doesn’t want to brush my hair, she certainly doesn’t have to.” She then made a production of pushing herself across the room, making it seem difficult, hard to accomplish.

      Elise started to get up but Josephine stopped her. “At least let me help you to your room, Bea. Elise is tired. She needs to rest.”

      “I can take care of it myself!” Bea snapped. “I don’t need help from you!”

      “Bea!” Elise protested.

      Bea turned. She lifted her chin.