Fire Engine Dead by Sheila Connolly Page B

be nice, but I care about the Society’s collections, including my family’s, and I don’t want to see the cataloging screwed up. Can I sit in on the interview?”
    “I don’t suppose I can stop you. Do you know Alice? She’s not a goddaughter or a fifth cousin, is she?”
    “No, I don’t really know her, and unlike Alfred, she’s not related. Let me give her a call and see when she can come in.” She pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and retreated to the hall to make the call. While she was gone, I tried tosort out what I felt. I’d defer any decision until after I’d met the girl, but I had a hard time believing that she’d hold a candle to Nicholas’s qualifications. Well, decisions like this came with the territory.
    Marty popped back in. “Three o’clock today. Eric says you’re free.”
    That gave me time to come up with some sort of plan. Should I call Latoya and tell her to hold off? Maybe she hadn’t reached Nicholas. Or maybe he’d turned us down. One way to find out. I picked up the phone and punched in Latoya’s extension.
    “Latoya? Have you talked with Nicholas yet?”
    “I did. He seemed pleased to accept. He was going to check how much notice Penn wants him to give and figure out how much time it would take to finish up his current projects. He said he’d get back to us in a day or two with the details.”
    “Thanks, Latoya.” I hung up and faced Marty again. “Okay, so we’ve made the offer, and you’ve got to know I’d hate to withdraw it now. In fact, I’m not even sure we can, without facing legal consequences—I’d have to check with Human Resources. In any case, I don’t think it’s fair to him. I think he’s very qualified, but I’ll talk to Alice and I’ll try to keep an open mind.”
    Marty had a faraway expression on her face. “Nell, you may be worrying over nothing. You know, maybe we could set them both to working on the Terwilliger Collection, as kind of a trial, and see who does better.”
    On some level I was appalled. “Marty, that’s not the best way to make decisions. And how would you measure that? Number of pieces cataloged? Quality or accuracy of entries?”
    “Maybe not. But I’d love to see what they could accomplish in, say, two weeks? A little competition can’t hurt. And then we can see how they like the work and the place, and they can decide if they like us.”
    I hated the idea. But I needed Marty’s backing, both strategic and financial, so I said firmly, “We’ll see.”

CHAPTER 10
    Marty must surely have realized I was not happy about the situation she’d created—not that she could have known about our offering Nicholas the position, but that she had overstepped by offering someone a position that wasn’t hers to fill, without ever checking with me—because she vanished strategically back into the stacks. Sometimes I wondered just how much time she spent at the Society versus at home. Every time I turned around she seemed to pop up. I didn’t want to discourage her, but it was disconcerting.
    At three o’clock she appeared outside my door with young Alice in tow. I tried to read Marty’s expression and failed: it seemed an equal mix of trepidation and glee.
    “Nell, this is Alice Price, the girl, uh, woman I told you about. Alice, this is Nell Pratt, the president of the Society.”
    I wanted to appear welcoming, even though I didn’t hold out high hopes for this very young and slender blonde, so Iextended my hand. “Alice, I’m glad to meet you. Please, sit down. Marty, you’re joining us, right?”
    “I am,” she said cheerfully, and sat down on the settee against the wall. I hoped she’d at least have the good sense to keep quiet so I could get on with business. I was already on edge, at least in my own mind: I hadn’t even told Latoya about this situation, mainly because I hoped the problem would just go away before it came to that. Part of me was hoping to find something about Alice that clearly