Breach of Ethics

by Sharon St. George

  “Speaking of Harry, have you talked to him since Rella got home?”

  “No. Why?”

  “He has some news, but I’ll let him tell you. And I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Don’t forget to rinse off the llama dust.”

  News about Harry and Rella? I wondered while I got ready for bed. Were they engaged? Had they broken up? Should I call Harry and satisfy my curiosity? I decided to mind my own business, which at the moment was to get some sleep. I needed to store up enough energy to get through Saturday’s llama training hike and still be alert enough in the evening to observe Hector Korba at the symphony.

  The next morning, I did a couple of knee bends to test my pain level. I was still at the maximum dose of pills, so I made sure to take extra in my fanny pack. I hadn’t mentioned the parking lot mugging to my grandparents, and by the time it occurred to me that hiking might exacerbate my injuries, it was too late to back out.

  While Jack hooked up the trailer and loaded the tack in the back of his pickup, Amah packed our lunches. I was in charge of luring the llamas into the catch pen with cob, their favorite treat. They couldn’t resist the combination of corn, oats, and barley. Once I had isolated the three novices we were taking on the hike, I enticed them with Amah’s homemade llama cookies and got them haltered.

  Loading them into the trailer was the first phase of their training. Again, bribing them was the way to go. Jack got the first two in without a fuss, but the third planted his feet in a stubborn stance. He was pretty green, and it took patience, but Jack gave him time to calm down, and eventually he succumbed to the lure of grain rattling in a can and hopped aboard with his pasture mates.

  Soon we were on our way up the highway and into the eastern foothills. Jack had friends in the timber industry who allowed him to use their property for hiking. We put the trio through all the sorts of obstacles they might face on a pack trail. They were saddled, loaded with panniers carrying a minimal amount of weight, and led single file until we reached a small stream—their first obstacle. One of them balked at crossing water, and another stopped midstream to urinate as soon as he had all four hooves in the water. Neither behavior is acceptable, so we spent some time crossing and re-crossing the stream until they got it right.

  Next, Jack took us off the trail where we could encounter downed trees and observe how the llamas reacted to the challenge of a barrier in their path. Would they balk, hurdle wildly over the barrier, or would they do what a well-trained animal should do—use the minimum amount of energy to clear the obstacle? Often, simply stepping carefully over the barrier is all that is necessary. And it prevents upsetting the carefully arranged burden the animal is carrying.

  The obstacle training took the most effort, and with three novice animals, it was the most time-consuming. When we reached a clearing, Jack finally announced it was time for lunch. We tied the llamas where they could graze. Amah had packed smoked salmon and crackers in one of the panniers. She topped off our meal with Jack’s favorite trekker’s dessert—homemade oatmeal cookies loaded with raisins and walnuts. The hike had exacerbated my pain, especially in my right knee, so I sneaked more pain pills with lunch.

  On the drive home, sitting between Jack and Amah in the cab of the pickup, I wondered whether to bring up the subject of Harry and Rella. Nick had asked me if I’d heard from Harry since Rella got home from New York. Why? Nick said he’d let Harry tell me. But tell me what? Neither Jack nor Amah brought up Harry’s name in conversation, so I decided to let it go until I heard from Harry. As soon as we were back in cell phone range, I checked for texts or voicemails but found nothing. Jack teased me about being addicted to my phone like a teenager, so I put it away.

  Home again, Amah and I turned out the llamas while Jack unhitched the trailer. We stowed the saddles, halters, and panniers in the tack room below my apartment in the barn. I gave Jack and Amah hugs and went upstairs while they drove up the lane to the main house.

  I checked my phone and spotted a text from Harry. Have news, come by if u have time.

  It was only two o’clock. Sure, I had time. Nick wouldn’t be picking me up for dinner until five. I also had news for Harry. I wanted to tell him what Quinn had said about the contractor who put in that false wall and secret passage.

  I did a sniff test, decided not to take time to change my hiking clothes, and headed to Harry’s condo. When I rang his bell, Rella opened the door.

  “Aimee. Hi.” Rella looked very much at home in sweats and sneakers. “Harry just walked over to the workout room. He said you might drop by. Do you want to come in and wait?”

  Interesting that she was answering Harry’s door. Then the light dawned, and I guessed what Harry’s news might be. She had moved in with him.

  “Sure.” I stepped inside. “How long do you think he’ll be?”

  “He said half an hour, but you know Harry.” Rella smiled like an indulgent parent. “He’ll get caught up in his workout and lose track of time. We could have a drink while you wait. Would you like coffee? Or wine? I just opened a nice Riesling.”

  Here was my perfect opportunity to take Amah’s advice. Wine would help me get through an awkward conversation with Rella, but I had to drive back home, so I asked for coffee.

  We sat in Harry’s living room looking out at the view of the Sacramento River. I was still working out how to bring up the subject when Rella broke the silence.

  “Now that you know Harry and I are dating, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, Aimee. This seems like a good time, and I hope it won’t make you uncomfortable.”

  Her, too? I hadn’t expected that. “I have something on my mind too, but you go first.”

  Rella put her cup on a side table, picked up a pillow and held it against her chest. I’d done that myself a time or two. Protective body language. Not a good sign.

  “Here goes.” She turned to face me. “Do you think I’m too old for your brother?”

  It took a moment to register what she’d said. It had nothing to do with Nick? Rella’s agenda was different from mine.

  I shook off my confusion. “What do you mean? Are you older?”

  “About four years, but Harry knows, and it doesn’t bother him. I thought you knew. I assumed he’d told you.”

  “No. Something like that wouldn’t be important enough for Harry to mention.”

  “If it isn’t about my age, is there something else? You said you had something on your mind.”

  It was my turn to hold a pillow to my chest. “It’s about the week you and Nick were in Paris. You had flown Buck there for a series of meetings.”

  A trace of frown creased Rella’s forehead. “That was almost six months ago, right?”

  “About that,” I said.

  A sudden blush tinted her cheeks. “Is this about the hotel mix-up and my sharing Nick’s room that last night?” She had jumped to the crux of the matter and we couldn’t turn back.

  “That’s part of it.”

  “What did Nick tell you?” She pulled the pillow, which had dropped to her lap, against her chest again.

  “Pretty much all of it,” I said. If Nick’s version of that night was true.

  “And you’re thinking I’m not the right woman for Harry because of that?” Rella got up and went out of the room. She came back with her purse open. She pulled out her wallet. “Here’s a photo of Remy, the man I was with in Nick’s room that night. We met a few years ago when I was flying for United. He’s a friend … okay, a friend with benefits, I suppose. We met for drinks that night and things just happened. I wasn’t with Harry back then. I wasn’t seeing anyone, so I called Remy.”

  “And Buck had a card game going,” I said, “so Nick had to sit up at the bar until your friend left.”

  “I’m afraid so. I didn’t know Nick had come back to the room until the phone rang late into the night. That’s when I saw him in the other bed.”

  “Why didn’t you let me talk to him?”

  “I didn’t know it was you
until Nick told me weeks later. Some woman calling in the middle of the night asking for him? It could have been one of the women who’d been trying to cozy up to him in the bar. You know how he attracts ….” She stopped herself. “I mean, you have to admit Nick’s hot. Remember what I told you when I first came to work for Buck?”

  “That you weren’t still hot for Nick.”

  “Right. I figured he’d told you we had a bit of history. I wanted to clear the air about that.”

  “He hadn’t told me before I heard it from you. I still don’t know much about the time you were dating.”

  Rella surprised me by laughing. “It’s a stretch to call it ‘dating.’ We went to a gun range together a few times. That’s about the only thing we had in common, besides flying. He likes classic movies and reads a lot of fiction. Stuff that bores me. But that was only part of the problem.” Rella visibly relaxed. “I have a cousin named Nicky. We’re close, and he looks a lot like Nick. Your Nick. I couldn’t even think of Nick as a kissin’ cousin. It was just too weird.”

  At that point Harry came through the front door. “Hey, my favorite sister and my favorite pilot. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing much,” I said, too quickly. “I’ve just been telling Rella what a bratty little brother you were.”

  Rella stood. Harry walked over, put an arm around her waist, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. They looked equally smitten and I felt happier than I had in a long time.

  Rella had just poured coffee for Harry when her phone rang. She took her call in the kitchen and came back to the living room saying, “It’s Buck. I have to go to the airport.”

  Harry walked out with her, then came back inside and settled across from me in one of his overstuffed chairs. He took a sip from his cup. “Ah, she makes a good cup of coffee.”

  “So what’s up?” I asked. “You said you have news.”

  “Why don’t you catch me up first? Any progress on your end?”

  “Some. But I’m not sure how useful the info is.”

  I gave him the highlights of my conversation with Quinn, including the fact that Quinn had already struck out trying to track down the guy who did the secret work. I asked if there was a way to find out who might have been doing covert construction work in the Sawyer County area back when Quinn came to town.

  “How far back?” he asked.

  “I don’t know exactly when Quinn started at TMC, but it had to be about five years ago.”

  “That’s quite a while,” Harry said. “I was still an apprentice architect working in San Francisco back then, but who knows where the guy came from? I doubt he was a Sawyer County local if he was doing unpermitted work. At least that confirms what I suspected. He must have been a boomer from out of the area. I’ll put some feelers out.”

  I waited an anxious moment for Harry to tell me his news, but he seemed content to sip his coffee in silence. I picked up my empty cup, put it back down, and prompted him a second time.

  “Your turn. You’ve got me curious. Since Rella opened your door when I got here, I thought your news must have something to do with her being at your place.”

  Harry laughed. “So you thought what? That we’d eloped or something?”

  I forced a laugh in return, feeling awkward. “Nothing that drastic. I just wondered if you two were taking things to another level.”

  He leaned forward in his chair. “Sis, it’s nothing like that. Rella came over to work out with me in the weight room. She finished first and came back here to the apartment ahead of me. She’s still living in her temporary home in Nick’s apartment.”

  “That reminds me,” I sat back, more relaxed now. “Nick said he sublet to her so she’d have room when her nephews visit. Are the boys still with her?”

  Harry seemed to relax as well. “No, they’re back home in Maryland with their father.”

  “Any word on her escrow closing?”

  “They’re telling her it could be any day now.” Harry was silent for a moment. “Why? Did Nick say something about wanting his place back?”

  I hurried to reassure him. “Good heavens, no, you know how easygoing he is about things like that, but it’s been a few months now.”

  “It shouldn’t be much longer. If Nick’s okay with bunking in Buck’s pool house, why are you asking?”

  I hadn’t meant to come off as irritated with Rella for taking over Nick’s place. Now that I better understood their past “relationship,” there was really nothing to object to. “Just wondering if it has anything to do with your news.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “My news is going to sound anticlimactic after what you’ve been imagining. I’ve been nominated for an Architect of the Year award for the mall project.”

  Puzzled, I said, “I was given the impression that it had something to do with Rella. What was that about?”

  “That’s because the nominations haven’t been announced. Rella heard about it back in New York. She ran into a woman at the hotel where she and Buck were staying and they got to talking over drinks. The woman mentioned that she was on the nominating committee and let it slip that I was a candidate, but she told Rella I wasn’t supposed to know about it yet.”

  “When will you find out if you’ve won?”

  “It won’t be announced for quite a while.”

  “So have you told Amah and Jack? Or Mom and Dad?”

  “Not yet. I thought I’d wait. I don’t want them to spend a lot of time with their hopes up and then have them disappointed.”

  I gave him a playful slap on the knee. “I’m proud of you, Bro. That’s wonderful news.”

  “Thanks. Now will you stop making assumptions about my personal life?”

  My smile was rueful this time. “I’ll try.”

  Chapter 22

  I got home from Harry’s with an hour to spare and headed for the shower. There were few occasions for formal wear in Timbergate, so I decided to go for it. I dressed in my most elegant outfit: a flowing red gown with a skirt that nearly touched the ground, topped off by a black brocade jacket borrowed from Amah.

  When I opened the door for Nick, I caught my breath. In a gray suit, light gray shirt, and a necktie patterned in shades of gray, he looked like a million bucks.

  “Hi, lady.” He pulled me in close for a hug. “You look fantastic.”

  “So do you.”

  I was still in his arms, and before I knew it, we were locked in a kiss that left both of us disoriented. Nick recovered first.

  “Are you hungry?” The question made us both laugh.

  “Not really,” I said, “but we’d better go. You made reservations.”

  While we followed the hostess to our table at the restaurant, every woman in sight seemed to be sneaking glances at Nick. After we ordered, I caught him up on my visit to Harry’s condo. I didn’t bring up my talk with Rella. With luck, that conversation would remain between the two of us women. I mentioned that Harry had told me about the Architect of the Year nomination and then told him I’d filled Harry in on the latest concerning Quinn’s secret passage.

  “Quinn said he’s had no luck tracking down the contractor who built the false wall and the secret passage to the third floor, but he gave me the name of the man and his business.”

  “Did you give that to Harry?” Nick asked.

  “I did. Harry wasn’t optimistic about finding the guy, but he’s going to see what he can do.”

  “He must hear about guys like that through his work. It’s the only lead we have so far. I’ll pass it on to Buck’s cyber sleuths, too.”

  Our dinners were delicious, but slow in arriving, which left us with little time to linger over a romantic meal. We barely made it to the civic center in time.

  The parking lot was almost full when we pulled in. I didn’t know what size of crowd to expect, but it looked as if the Sawyer County Symphony was sold out. I handed our tickets to Nick. “Shall we go in and find Cleo?”

  We settled in, with Cleo on my left and N
ick on my right. While Nick’s attention was focused on his program, Cleo gave me a nudge with her elbow and raised her eyebrows. I got the message: Nick looks gorgeous.

  I spotted a special note in the program mentioning that the orchestra would be playing a piece composed for piano by ten-year-old Natasha Korba, granddaughter of the symphony’s bass clarinetist, Hector Korba.

  “Cleo, look.” I pointed to the program. Natasha’s composition was titled Peaceful Picnic. I recalled the scene in Natasha’s hospital room back on Wednesday. It had been no picnic and anything but peaceful. Abel Gailworth had refused to let Natasha eat her meatloaf, going to the nurses’ station to complain while Melissa held her daughter in her arms, trying to comfort her.

  The piece triggered visions of childhood excursions with my family to mountain meadows, gently rippling lakes, and whispering mountain streams. Our picnics always involved hot dogs or fried chicken—special treats Natasha was denied. As Peaceful Picnic ended, the audience rose in a standing ovation.

  The conductor announced that Hector Korba would take a bow for his composer granddaughter, who was still recuperating in the hospital after an appendectomy. He nodded to Korba, who walked to the front of the stage, executed a regal bow, and thanked the crowd on behalf of Natasha. With moist eyes, he announced that his granddaughter would soon be home from the hospital and would play a solo at the symphony’s next performance. That brought another round of applause from the sympathetic audience.

  I wondered if Natasha’s mother and stepfather were attending to hear their daughter’s composition played by the orchestra. There was no sign of them.

  After the final number, Cleo invited Nick and me to go backstage with her to give Sig our compliments. We found him in the greenroom putting his tuba in its case, while across the room, Hector Korba was taking his bass clarinet apart, cleaning each of the components and storing them in a case lined in royal-blue velvet.

  I noticed Korba loosening the ligature that held the reed in place on his mouthpiece. He removed the used reed and inspected it, frowning before tossing it into a wastebasket. Watching him reminded me of my seventh grade attempt to play the clarinet in my middle school band. No one had mentioned that I would have to blow through it with a damp, slimy reed in my mouth, and that after every performance I would have to clean spittle out of the instrument. I decided back then that if I were to get serious about a musical career, I would choose an instrument that didn’t involve saliva.