Bachelor's Puzzle. Ginger Chambers

plunged the area into night. He leaned against the thick plate glass, his shoulder registering its solidness as well as its coolness as he hummed softly in accompaniment to the delicate strains of the Mozart piano concerto that reverberated throughout the apartment. There was no one to complain if he was slightly off-key or to protest that he hummed too loudly; no one to criticize his choice of music. His features relaxed into contentment. A short time later, when the movement drew to a close, he sighed, and with reluctance allowed his thoughts to return to the events of the day.

      His time in Tyler had been far different from what he’d expected. He had planned to pass a couple of hours in consultation about the library, then be on his way back to Milwaukee, about an hour’s drive away. As it turned out, most of the day had been spent in hard physical labor! Row upon row of books had needed to be moved, shelves had to be taken down, the room where the leak had occurred had had to be emptied so that repairs could be made and all surfaces properly cleaned. There hadn’t been time to do much consulting—at least, not with the chief librarian. But he had been able to pick up on the feelings of a number of his fellow workers. It seemed that the old house that had served as Tyler’s library for the past forty years had reached the point of no return. Everyone agreed it was in terrible condition and might fall down at any given moment—an exaggeration, Robert knew, but one that expressed the townspeople’s feelings succinctly. All seemed to want the new library to be built, but no one had a good idea of how to replace the funding that had been lost. Their attempts to raise additional money had barely scratched the surface of what was needed, which made their frustration easy to understand. So, too, was the desperation of the librarian, who pretended to be calm and collected in the midst of disaster, but who in reality was in a near-explosive state of worry.

      Robert pushed away from the window and moved restlessly about the apartment. He was glad he had a project to think about, something to keep his mind occupied for the dog days of summer. Unlike past summers, when he had traveled, this one he had decided to spend at home. And he could already tell that his decision had been a mistake.

      He moved back to the drawing table and continued to hum, both lightly and on-key, as he exchanged the plans of the Tyler library for a set of yellow tracing sheets on which he had been sketching his version of a modern-day cathedral. After securing it in place, he sat down to work. It was his whimsy that one day one of his renderings would rival the best that Europe had to offer in style, grace and innovative grandeur.

      The German poet Goethe had once likened architecture to “frozen music.” That was the way Robert thought of his craft. It appealed both to the artist in him and to the engineer. The challenge was everything.

      * * *

      ELISE HURRIED downstairs, aware that once again she was late. For a person who prided herself on being punctual, the past few days had been a trial. There had been problems with the insurance company, with arranging an appointment for the vacuum chamber, even with the hall at Fellowship Lutheran. Somehow someone had overlooked the fact that the church hall was scheduled for use that weekend, and it had taken a number of calls, plus Elise’s own pleading intervention, to make arrangements for the planned awards dinner to be held instead at the hall belonging to the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd.

      Once Elise got behind in her schedule, she seemed to stay behind. She had thought to have most things under control by this morning, only to discover that Joe Santori could come three days early to repair the ceiling of the Biography Room. And she wasn’t about to tell him not to come. The way things were progressing, a refusal could equal several weeks’ delay. So she had stayed at the library longer than planned, which made her late arriving home to prepare Bea’s lunch, which accordingly had delayed her preparation for her second meeting with Robert Fairmont.

      A light film of perspiration glazed her body, the result of a too-hot shower, a too-warm house and heightened tension. She wore another suit, a backup reserved-for-meetings suit that was the same pale blue color as her eyes. It didn’t quite manage the psychological boost of the red suit she’d donned three days before, but it was close. Fired with determination, she felt in control, competent and businesslike.

      She had thought about everything that had happened when she met the professor the first time and decided that her reaction had been magnified all out of proportion. None of it had been real. When she saw him today he would prove to be an ordinary human being with eyes that saw nothing beyond the commonplace and a voice that held no particular power. He would come, they would talk, and hopefully Tyler would be able to build its new library. Afterward, she would go on just as she had always gone on, with one day following another.

      Bea made no demand as Elise came downstairs. Giving in to curiosity, Elise peeked around the doorway into the family room. As usual, Bea was sitting in front of the television set, but instead of watching the broadcast game show, she had fallen asleep.

      Elise paused, not wanting to wake her. But when Buttercup gave a meow of welcome and with feline grace jumped from the couch to the floor without disturbing Bea, Elise was drawn farther into the room. Chances to observe her sister unnoticed were extremely rare.

      Bea’s blond head had no brace. She slept sitting upright, her slender body fragile in the dull-colored, shapeless dress. In repose, her features were soft, almost beautiful again. The ravages of bitterness and self-pity might never have been.

      Elise studied her, then as shadows of the past began to dance before her eyes, she became very still. She saw Bea as she once had been: happy, smiling, unhampered...a flirt at seventeen. And she saw herself at eleven: half child, half budding young woman, who doubted herself even as she thought her sister one of the most magnificent beings in the world. Then had come a fateful Wisconsin winter, a snowfall, the gradual formation of ice....

      A primitive cry sounded deep in Elise’s throat as her features twisted with pain. She tried to thrust the terrible memory away. It hurt too much! She loved her sister. She didn’t want anything bad to have happened to her. She didn’t want to remember!

      Bea’s eyes opened with startling suddenness. In them, there was no question as to where she was or what was taking place. She looked directly at Elise and said, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

      Elise tried to control the trembling of her limbs. She tried to act as if nothing was wrong. But she knew that Bea could see through her performance. “No, I just—You were sleeping and I thought—”

      Bea had perfected a certain smile over the years, a smile that combined innocence and raw power. It was a smile that instantly plunged Elise into distress without her being fully aware of the cause. Bea used it now. “I wasn’t sleeping,” she said.

      “But your eyes were closed!” Elise wanted to run from the room. She always felt so exposed at these moments.

      “I was resting, that’s all. Are you leaving again?”

      Elise rubbed a hand across her brow. Her hard-won poise had disappeared as if in a puff of smoke. The meeting was going to be a disaster. Robert Fairmont would arrive in Tyler and all her worst nightmares would come true. He would tell her that cutting costs would be impossible. That she should stay in the old library and be jolly well glad that she had it...even if the town council did dig in their heels and refuse to spend any more money on it for needed repairs. Then he would look penetratingly at her and see everything that she kept hidden inside, see her deepest thoughts and desires. See her for the fraud that she truly was! “Uh... yes,” she stammered. “I have a meeting.”

      “With that professor?” Bea lifted an eyebrow in speculation. “The way Josephine described him, he sounds a little too hoity-toity for my taste. He must think quite a lot of himself.”

      “I wouldn’t know,” Elise murmured, glancing at the door and escape.

      Bea saw the look and dismissed her angrily. “Oh, go on. Leave! You’re not exactly a scintillating conversationalist anyway. Just get me a pitcher of lemonade before you go. The house is on the warm side today.”

      “Would you like me to switch on the air-conditioning?”

      “What? And have me freeze? No, I should certainly say not. Just get me the lemonade.”