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I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” D.J. said, a little louder than necessary, expecting her words to carry into the most distant nooks and crannies of the building.
    Suzy giggled again. “The patrons rarely even see him. And it really keeps the children out of the adult section. Going into the stacks is something only brave boys do on a dare.”
    D.J. wasn’t sure that could be seen as a positive, but she decided to change the subject. She found the notes that she’d carefully written up as an agenda.
    “Since we’ve all met,” she began, “I won’t need to introduce myself. I am very happy to be here in Verdant. I commend all of the staff on the work that you’ve been doing. And I am very motivated to work with you to ensure this library continues to be an asset to the community.”
    She glanced down to “Point 1” of her notes, but before she could make it, Suzy spoke up.
    “So where did you grow up, where are you from?”
    “Uh...Wichita,” D.J. answered.
    “I love Wichita,” Suzy assured her. “What part of town?”
    “College Hill.”
    “Oh, that’s nice, I think.” Suzy looked over at Amos for confirmation. “That’s a nice area, right?”
    Amos shrugged.
    “It was lovely,” D.J. replied shortly. “Now I wanted to talk to you...”
    “Does your family still live there? In College Hill?”
    “No, my parents died several years ago.”
    “Oh, my God! That’s awful. What happened?”
    “They were killed in a traffic accident,” D.J. answered. “But this isn’t what I wanted to talk about.”
    “Of course not,” Suzy agreed. “You’re obviously still grieving. When a tragedy occurs it can get stuck on you and it just goes on and on. It’s called PSST or something. What is it, Amos?”
    The other bookmobile driver did not respond. His face remained completely deadpan.
    Suzy smiled at him apologetically. “Apparently some terrible things happened to him when he was deployed overseas,” Suzy said, looking between him and D.J. “PFPC? What is it? We try never to talk about it.”
    Amos rose from his chair brusquely. “I’ve got to get on the road,” he said as he moved away.
    “I had to tell her,” Suzy called after him. “Otherwise she wouldn’t know.”
    But Amos kept going and didn’t even look back. D.J. was stunned at the sudden ruin of her meeting.
    Suzy leaned toward her slightly. “He was deployed with the National Guard and nobody really knows what happened. When he left he was just another happy-go-lucky guy, but he came back so...strange. He must have—”
    “PTSD,” D.J. interrupted before Suzy could get it wrong again. “ And it’s none of my business,” she said sternly. “If Amos wants me to know something, Amos will tell me.”
    “Oh, right, sure,” Suzy agreed. “So where did you go to high school?”
    “What?”
    “College Hill, that’s like East High, right?”
    “Yes. Uh...no. It is but I didn’t go to high school there. I went to Hockaday in Dallas.”
    “Your family moved to Dallas?”
    “No, it’s a boarding school.”
    Suzy clasped her hands beneath her chin dramatically. “I read a book about a boarding school once!”
    At that moment the door to the back room swung open so violently that it rocked all the way open to slam against the opposite wall. Suzy made a startled squeal and jumped to her feet. Amelia Grundler stood on the threshold, her expression grim, her brows furrowed in anger.
    “It is 9:02 a.m. and the front door is not open!” she announced stridently.
    A pale, wan figure emerged silently from the shelves, rushed to the front door and clicked open the lock before disappearing as abruptly as he’d appeared.
    Miss Grundler glared at D.J. “Your first day in charge and you can’t even open for business on time.”
    Suzy scurried out of the room with a quick, worried glance in their direction.
    The woman was looking daggers at D.J., but she was not about to be intimidated on her first day.
    “You’re late, Amelia,”