Breach of Ethics

by Sharon St. George

  “But you knew about the fist fight,” I said. “I told you about it when I asked you how to write the minutes.”

  “Huh … I guess I must have forgotten about that.” Her wry smile said otherwise. “Doesn’t matter anyway. That’s confidential committee stuff, right Jared?”

  “It’s a gray area, but for now, I’m going with yes.”

  I asked Cleo if she’d heard the rumor going around about Lowe leaving in the middle of his surgery and making noises about going to Korba to get Quinn and me fired.

  “Cripes, no.” She darted concerned looks at both of us. “I don’t like the sound of that. Gives both of you motive—” she cut off her sentence.

  “So Kass didn’t bring it up during your interview?” Quinn asked.

  “No, and I’m damned glad.” She shook her head. “That would have caught me off guard.”

  I changed the subject, asking Quinn if he’d heard anything more about the security cameras. I was still counting on them to prove he hadn’t been in his office after hours.

  “Apparently there’s nothing. The data is stored digitally on TMC’s network servers. Sanjay offered to give the police copies, but they wanted to view the original footage.”

  “Has Sanjay seen it?” Cleo asked.

  “He viewed it with them. He said from the time I left at eight o’clock that night until Varsha arrived at seven in the morning, no one went through the door to the administrative suite.”

  “That’s impossible.” Cleo’s lips twisted. “There’s no other way in or out of your office. Lowe and whoever shot him had to go through the outer door to the administrative suite and then through the reception area to get to the door to your office. Someone must have rigged the cameras.”

  “Is that possible?” A rush of adrenaline made me queasy. If we couldn’t trust the cameras, how could we prove our innocence?

  “Anything’s possible,” Quinn said. “I’m guessing our friend Detective Kass will make that argument.” I noticed Quinn’s eyelids droop and wondered when he last got any sleep.

  “Can you think of anyone who would want to pin Lowe’s murder on you?” I asked.

  “No.” Quinn pushed his bowl away. His soup was untouched. “But I guess the best way to get away with murder is to frame someone else.”

  The lunch crowd had cleared out, and Margie was eyeing us with a look that said it was time to close. Taking the hint, we went outside and huddled under the entrance canopy.

  “When will you be back to work?” Cleo asked Quinn.

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll keep in touch.” He pulled us into a group hug. “With both of you.”

  Later Wednesday afternoon I texted Harry and Nick, asking when they would be free for a brainstorming session. They’d already had a teaser the night before at Jack and Amah’s house: a body in Quinn’s locked office, the victim shot with Quinn’s gun, the killer having entered and exited without being captured on security footage. Could they resist a puzzler like that? I upped the stakes by mentioning in my text that I’d been questioned by the police. If the guys thought I was also a person of interest, they would definitely want to know what had happened in that room.

  My library patrons helped the rest of the long day pass. A few doctors and nurses needed reliable sources for treating obscure medical conditions. One trainee from the pathology lab who hoped to become a forensic scientist made his daily visit, returning one issue of Forensic Magazine and checking out another.

  Harry responded via text half an hour before quitting time, asking if I wanted to meet him at the dojo when I got off work. I replied that I could be there by five thirty. Nick checked in a few minutes after, saying he’d be there, too. Missed you, he added. Me, too, I texted.

  I took a moment before I locked up to call Cleo, asking how Natasha Korba was doing in the Pediatric ICU.

  “Not much change,” Cleo said. “That’s all they’ll say.”

  “Any idea how long it will be before she’s released?”

  “Too soon to tell. The nurse I talked to hopes Dr. Snyder will keep her here as long as possible. Best case, she’ll be in PICU for at least a week. Could be longer if there are complications.” I heard frustration in Cleo’s voice. “That little girl’s body needs all the help it can get.”

  “I got that impression from Dr. Lowe, the morning of the Ethics meeting. Apparently her iron-deficiency anemia was close to life-threatening even before the appendix ruptured.”

  “Not only that. I happened to talk to Edna Roda earlier today. I asked her to give me a hypothetical about kids who eat vegan diets, since she couldn’t discuss Natasha’s case in particular.” Edna was the hospital’s chief nursing officer and a good friend of Cleo’s.

  “What did she tell you?”

  “Some troubling facts. Did you know that long-term vitamin B12 deficiency can result in permanent brain damage?”

  “No.” I was thinking I should have researched it myself. “How is that related to veganism?”

  “The primary source of B12 in our diets comes from eating foods from animals. Meat, eggs, and dairy.”

  “So kids on vegan diets can suffer permanent brain damage if their parents don’t do their homework?”

  “That’s right,” Cleo said. “They have to know how to compensate for the lack of foods rich in B12.”

  “That’s a frightening thought, I said. "It explains why everyone involved in Natasha’s case is afraid the child will relapse when the parents get her home and start restricting her diet again.”

  After talking to Cleo, I closed the library and headed for the dojo. On the way, I found myself hoping Dr. Snyder would get Child Protective Services involved in Natasha’s case. Iron-deficiency anemia should not be taken lightly, and the possibility of brain damage on top of that was appalling. I recalled Natasha’s piano solo with the Sawyer County Symphony. She was a thin, pale child who looked younger than her age. Surely Dr. Snyder would warn Natasha’s mother about the danger of organ failure from extreme iron deficiency. And about the prospect of brain damage.

  Nick’s new pickup was already in the dojo parking lot when I arrived. He had bought the black F150 a few months earlier when we were in Idaho tracking down a missing nurse. It was supposed to be my backup ride when my car was laid up, but so far, I hadn’t had a chance to get behind the wheel. Harry’s Jag was the only other vehicle in the lot.

  Since there were no classes scheduled for the evening, we would have the place to ourselves. I grabbed my gi bag out of the trunk in case they planned to do some sparring.

  Inside, I heard voices and laughter in the men’s changing room. I called out to let them know I’d arrived.

  “Hey, guys, are you changing into your gis?”

  The door opened and I had my answer. Both of them were ready to bow onto the mat. Harry outranked Nick by one black-belt degree. He had recently graduated to fourth. Nick was still at third, like me, but only because he was gone so often, flying Buck Sawyer from one state or country to another. He didn’t have a lot of time to concentrate on jujitsu.

  “Get your gi on and get out here, woman,” Nick said. “We have plans for you.” The glint in his eye told me they were going to give me a hard time.

  Chapter 6

  As I suspected, I took the brunt of the workout. After two hours we called it quits and changed back into street clothes. I filled paper cups from the water cooler and the guys dug around in the sensei’s desk, looking for snacks. Harry grabbed a half-full jar of roasted peanuts and Nick found a bag of dried apricots. We sat at a small table in a corner of the dojo’s office area with our improvised dinner.

  Harry glanced at the wall clock. “Nearly eight thirty, Sis. Let’s do this. All we know so far is that someone shot a doctor in your boss’s office and you’re sure your boss is not the killer.”

  “Right.” I hesitated for a moment. “Almost sure.”

  Nick shook his head. “I don’t like this already.”

  “Hear me out,” I said. “I’m
not going to get us involved in anything risky just to prove Quinn is innocent.”

  “I’ll believe that when your grandparents’ llamas sprout wings and fly,” Nick said. “You’ve had a taste of crime solving and now you’re hooked. Admit it, Aimee. You get a high from any adventure that gets you out from behind your desk at the library.”

  “Me high on adventure? What about you? Flying a billionaire all over the world in a corporate jet isn’t what I’d call a tame way to make a living.”

  “That’s different. It’s my job. Your job is to run a library, not to play savior to your boss when he’s accused—”

  “Hold it, you two.” Harry flashed a timeout signal. “You’re both turning into adventure-seeking adrenaline junkies, so just admit it and we can get back on track. Apparently the police are taking a hard look at Aimee—if not as a killer, at least as an accomplice.” Harry gave me a raised eyebrow. “You hinted at it in your text. Want to fill us in?”

  “Okay, guys,” I brushed a stray lock of hair away from my face, “I hope I don’t regret this, but I’m going to tell you everything that happened during that Ethics Committee meeting. Before I do, you need to understand something. There’s a Breach of Workplace Ethics clause in my contract. I’ll lose my job immediately if anyone finds out I violated confidentiality and divulged committee business.”

  “Understood,” they said in unison.

  I knew they’d never talk out of turn and put my job in jeopardy, so I filled them in on everything from the fists thrown at the meeting to the police interviews of Quinn, Cleo, and me. I told them about the surveillance cameras that showed no one had entered Quinn’s office after hours. And about the gun that shot Dr. Lowe being registered to Quinn.

  “So why do the police think Quinn had a motive for wanting this doctor dead?” Harry asked. “You’re saying they suspect that Lowe physically attacked Quinn during the meeting, but they have only circumstantial evidence of that.”

  “Yes, because the security guards saw Quinn’s bloody face and me restraining Lowe.”

  “So you broke up the fight. Sounds like you were completely justified.”

  “I was, and Lowe seemed to agree right after it happened, but I’ve just learned that he later changed his mind.” I told them what Quinn had heard about Lowe being forced to step away from a surgery because of his tender wrist, and his threats about having Quinn and me fired.

  “Come on,” Nick said, “even if you had known about it at the time, that’s hardly a motive for murder.”

  “Depends,” Harry replied. “Add it to the other evidence. The body in Quinn’s office, shot with Quinn’s gun.”

  “That’s all on Quinn, not Aimee.” Nick turned to me. “Is there anything else we need to know? Anything that puts suspicion on you?”

  “Maybe, but it’s so minor, I doubt it matters.”

  “Tell us,” Harry said.

  “Lowe said something that Quinn took as a possible threat aimed at me.” I searched my memory for Lowe’s exact words. “He said, ‘You’d better hope your little bodyguard didn’t injure my wrist.’”

  “Hold on,” Nick said. “You and Quinn were threatened by the victim face to face?”

  “You could put it that way, but he apologized right away.”

  “Even so, does the detective know about that threat?”

  “I’m not sure. Quinn didn’t say whether he mentioned it when he was interviewed.”

  “What about you?” Harry asked. “Did you mention it to the detective?”

  “No. I didn’t want to volunteer it.”

  “Anything else?” Nick said.

  “I can’t think of anything else. I was hoping you two would have a fresh perspective.”

  The gleam in Harry’s eyes told me his brain was in high gear. “The fight broke out over the little girl’s transfusion. Something the doctor did to save the girl’s life in spite of her parents’ objections?”

  “Yes.” I explained that both Natasha’s mother and stepfather objected to the transfusion. “Melissa Korba Gailworth is the widow of Hector Korba’s son, who died in Afghanistan. Her husband, Abel Gailworth, is a self-styled pastor of something he calls Abel’s Breath Ministry. Apparently he espouses veganism as part of his doctrine.”

  Nick picked up the thread. “Sounds like it’s some kind of cult. And the girl’s grandfather is the president of your governing board, so Lowe felt he had clout with the guy if he wanted action taken against you and Quinn?”

  “I’m sure he did. He even said so when he and Quinn were arguing. He said saving Natasha’s life would give him an edge if he wanted to take a complaint to Hector Korba.”

  “When the flap came up about the transfusion, was the grandfather on the side of the doctor?”

  “Yes. And I’ve heard he’s trying to get custody of the child.”

  Harry glanced at Nick. “Sounds like there’s a family feud to add to the equation.”

  “Sure does,” Nick said. “Aimee, have you heard whether the police are talking to the girl’s parents and grandfather?”

  “I don’t know. I could ask Sanjay if he’s being kept informed.”

  “Who’s Sanjay?” Harry asked.

  “Our assistant administrator. He’s filling in until Quinn comes back to work.”

  “Sis, is there any chance you could get me into Quinn’s office?” Harry asked.

  “Maybe. Why?”

  “You’re saying the doctor was shot dead in there, yet during the time frame when that took place, the cameras show no one going in or coming out. I’d like to have a look at the layout.”

  “You mean the camera placement?” I asked.

  “That, for sure. But I’d also like to look around inside Quinn’s office.”

  “That’s asking a lot, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “And in the meantime,” Nick said, “I’ll see what I can find out about the girl’s parents, in particular what gives with the stepfather and his iffy church.”

  Nick's offer took me by surprise. “What about your job? Are you going to have time for this?”

  “Rella’s trying to save up to pay off some debts, so she’s taking all the solo flights and I’m on a well-deserved leave. Unless something comes up that requires both of us, I’m pretty much free right now.”

  While Harry was shutting things down inside, Nick walked me out to the parking lot. “So where are you?” he asked.

  “My car’s parked next to Harry’s.”

  “I’m not asking about your car,” he said. “Where are you, Aimee? Where are we?”

  I stopped and turned to face him. “You’ve been gone, Nick. We’ve barely communicated for the past two months. Most of the time I didn’t even know where you were. How am I supposed to know where we are?”

  He took hold of my hand, and I didn’t pull away. “There are times when I can’t tell you where Buck’s business takes us. You understand confidentiality. We just talked a few minutes ago about how it impacts your job. I have to deal with the same restraints in mine.”

  I gave his hand a squeeze. “I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Just when we were getting our footing back and had a chance to work things out, to get closer, Buck took you away again.”

  “I’m back now.” He leaned against the side of my car and pulled me against him. “All I’m asking is whether we’re still headed in the right direction.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “That’s what I want, but—”

  He stopped me in mid-sentence with a kiss that wiped everything else from my mind. I felt like a traveler who’d come home at last from a long, lonely voyage.

  At that point, Harry came bounding out of the dojo, laughing. “Hey, you two, quit necking out here in the parking lot. You’re going to give the dojo a bad name.”

  Nick and I broke off our embrace. Harry walked over and looked at me, serious again. “Keep us informed if you hear anything more from the police. I don’t like knowing you’re on their radar.” I promised I w
ould.

  “All right then,” he said. “I’d tell you two to have a good evening, but it looks like you’re already headed in that direction.” He slipped into his red Jag and pulled away.

  But Harry’s interruption had caused the momentum from our kiss to slip away. We both stood silent for an awkward moment, watching his taillights disappear into the dark night. Then I recalled the question Amah has asked about him. Was Harry seeing someone special? If anyone knew, it would be Nick.

  “I have a question,” I said.

  “About us?”

  “No, about Harry. Amah has a feeling he’s seeing someone special. She’s hoping she’s right, of course. She asked me, but I haven’t seen any evidence of it.”

  “Are you asking me to spill the beans about your brother’s love life?” Nick’s eyes narrowed, an expression that meant he was amused.

  “You guys are so close I wondered if he’s said anything to you.”

  “Sorry. If you want that kind of info, talk to your brother.”

  “You’re invoking the Guy Code?”

  “Something like that.” Nick put his arm around my shoulders. “It’s getting late, and my gut tells me we’re not going to have the kind of good evening Harry was hinting at, so we should probably call it a night.”

  I shrugged away from his arm. “You know something, don’t you?”

  “Aimee, there’s only one Machado I have on my mind right now, and it isn’t Harry.” He opened my car door for me. “My first priority is to untangle you from the murder at your workplace. Then you and I need to make up for lost time.” He planted a kiss on my forehead. “Drive safe.”

  Thursday morning at work I considered how I might give Harry access to Quinn’s office. It seemed unlikely during the workday. How would I explain it? And without a key, I couldn’t possibly get in after hours. I called Cleo for an update. She said the office was no longer off limits as a crime scene, but Quinn was not back at work. Sanjay remained in charge, working from his own office. Varsha Singh, as executive assistant for both men, was forwarding Quinn’s calls to Sanjay. I asked Cleo if there had been any change in Natasha’s condition.