“At least I’ve made a couple of people happy. I talked to this other electrician who’s really into local baseball history, and I think Felicity is sweet on him.”
James’s eyebrow went up. “
“Anything to keep my staff happy.”
James’s lunch arrived, and we bantered over it, and over another cup of coffee after. It was fun. Three months earlier I would never have guessed I’d be having lunch with an FBI agent, much less flirting with him. Flirting? I thought I’d forgotten how. Anyway, it was a weird mix of business and pleasure.
Finally he said, “This is nice, but that blasted report should go out today.”
“So you’re going back to the office? I should, too. I can get a lot done when the administrative staff isn’t around on the weekend-no interruptions.”
“Would you consider scheduling something else on a weekend?”
“You mean, with you? I could probably fit that into my calendar.”
“I’ll call you. And I’ll take care of lunch. You finish your coffee.” He rose and headed toward the cashier. I stayed where I was and admired the cut of his topcoat. Nice shoulders under that grey tweed.
I felt good. The feeling lasted until I got back to the Society. I came in the front door and took a quick scan of the reading room. It looked fairly well filled for a Saturday, especially considering the season and the rather cold and gloomy weather. Of course, I knew well that a truly committed researcher wouldn’t let anything deter him or her from the pursuit of a tiny but critical detail. Still, it warmed my heart that there were people here today, doing what we were here for.
Felicity beckoned me over and said in an excited whisper, “I think I found a picture for Barney!”
I replied in the same hushed tone. “That’s great. Are you going to call him and tell him?”
I could swear she blushed. “I couldn’t do that. Does he have email, do you think?”
“I can check the membership list when I go upstairs. Good work, Felicity. I know he’ll be happy.”
“I hope so.”
She turned back to help a patron, and I headed for the elevator. I didn’t make it, because Rich Girard waylaid me before I got there. “Can I talk to you about something, Nell?”
Rich had been hired to catalog the massive Terwilliger Collection of documents, and had been making steady progress, with Marty egging him on. Had Marty been pushing him too hard? “Sure, Rich. Is this about the Terwilliger Collection?”
He looked around. “Uh, no. Can we go to your office?”
“Sure.” Mystified, I led the way to the elevator and then to my third-floor office, turning on lights as I went. As I had anticipated, none of the administrative staff was in today. Inside my office, I hung up my coat and pointed Rich toward a chair, then sat down behind my desk. “So, what’s up?”
“It’s about Eric Marston,” he began, looking uncomfortable.
“Eric?” I hadn’t expected to hear that.
“Yeah, your new assistant, right? Uh, how much do you know about him?”
Where was he going with this? “Not a lot. Shelby Carver found him for me, and so far he’s been doing a great job. Do you have a problem with him?”
Rich wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You know he’s gay?”
I sat back in my chair and looked at him. Rich was the last person I would have suspected of homophobia. “I haven’t asked about his personal life. Nor should you be interested in it.”
He had the grace to look embarrassed. “Oh, no-hey, I don’t care what he does on his own time. But, well… this is complicated. When you showed him around, I thought he looked kind of familiar, but I didn’t think anything more of it. But last night, I was out with Carrie, you know? And we hit some clubs. And that’s when I remembered where I’d seen him before.” Rich stopped, apparently reluctant to go on.
“At a club?” I really didn’t know the local club scene.
“No, outside a place, when I was walking by. With some cops. It looked like he was getting arrested.”
Something inside me went cold. Eric hadn’t mentioned anything about any criminal record, but then, I hadn’t asked, had I? Nor had I requested that kind of background check on him. I had trusted my instincts, because I liked Eric and he had looked like he needed a break. Shelby had vouched for him, but I barely knew her, either. Had I been wrong? “When was this?” I asked, my voice tight.
“A while ago. Six months, maybe? I remember it was warm, so it had to be summer. Look, I really didn’t want to bring this up, because he seems like a nice guy. But I know a lot of people are looking at the Society under a microscope these days, and I wanted to be sure that you checked it out.”
He was right, much as I hated to admit it. “Thank you, Rich. You were right to bring it to my attention. Was there anything else?”
Relieved, he bounded out of his chair. “Nope. Cataloging’s going great, and thanks for sending Chloe our way. That’ll make things go faster, once I show her the ropes.”
“I’m glad I could help.” I watched his retreating back, then slumped in my chair. Damn! I fix one thing, and another one pops up. How could I discreetly find out if Eric had a history with the police? Well, duh-I could ask him. But he wouldn’t be around until Monday, which gave me two whole days to stew. What was our liability if we hired people with criminal records? I had no idea, and I really didn’t want to ask anyone and send up red flags.
Why was nothing ever easy? With a sigh, I turned to the waiting pile of paperwork. At least that I could do.
CHAPTER 24
I spent the rest of the weekend wondering what I would say to Eric on Monday-and wondering what my seat-of-the-pants decision to hire him said about my management skills. I hadn’t had any training or preparation for stepping into the role of president, and I had certainly never coveted the position. I had been happy doing my former job, drumming up funding for worthy projects and making sure that our members were happy enough to keep renewing their membership, and to keep giving. Every dollar counted when you were as perpetually strapped for cash as the Society was.
Administration at the highest levels required a lot of skills, and I wasn’t sure I had them all. There were definitely some things I could manage. I could put together a budget. I could prioritize projects and delegate tasks. I could stand up in front of a crowd and make an impassioned case for supporting the Society. All good. Where I was afraid I was inadequate was in managing people as a leader. I wasn’t comfortable telling other people what to do, and frankly, I didn’t like trying to manipulate them to do my bidding. I relied on goodwill and friendly persuasion and instinct. Had my instinct let me down with Eric? I hadn’t asked him any hard questions, and had offered him the opportunity to prove himself on the job. So far as that was concerned, he was doing quite well. His lifestyle choices were his own business, unless he acted wildly inappropriately in-house, and in my time I’d seen enough extracurricular activities in the stacks to know that our policy was flexible, to say the least. As long as the work got done, administration didn’t care what you did with whom, and I supported that policy.
But a criminal record was another matter. We were an institution that served the public, and our reputation was a very real asset. Undermine that and we were in trouble: donors had plenty of choices for where to spend their philanthropic allowances, and we were already on shaky ground after our recent scandal, with donors questioning our integrity. Employing known criminals after all that was definitely pushing the limits. If it was true. But I’d been working with Rich for the better part of a year, and I didn’t think he would have brought this to my attention unless he was convinced that he had in fact seen Eric in a compromising situation.
And, I had to remind myself, I hadn’t looked any more closely at Shelby, taking her at face value, too. Melanie had told me she was checking out Shelby’s resume, but had she? I made a note to myself: talk to Melanie on Monday and find out what her vetting process was, and what she’d found out about Shelby. Or Eric.
Stewing was getting me nowhere. I resolved to shove all Society-related matters into a closet in my head and shut the door until Monday. Everybody ran into a few glitches during transitions. Didn’t they?
Monday I took the train in early. I liked arriving before everyone else. The old building was still and dim, taking its time to wake up in the morning. I’d always felt as though I owned it when it was empty,
