Page 25

The Tea House wasn’t even supposed to be open. But there were balloons and streamers and…was that a wall of printed photos?

She stopped and turned to Indie. “You did this?”

“ We did this. Because you love this place and their almond croissants and sweet teas, and we love you.”

Holden slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her head while her mother gave her a soft smile. “Happy birthday, darling.”

She hugged all three of them, tears in her eyes.

When she finally stepped inside, the entire crowd shouted, “Happy Birthday!”

She laughed and, yeah, she was almost crying. Happy tears, that was.

She went around the room and hugged everyone one by one. When she got to Mrs. Gerald, she grinned. “Thank you for allowing us to do this.”

“Thank you for always getting your sweet teas from me. You keep me in business.”

“Not true. You keep you in business by being amazing. And even if someone else in town started selling sweet tea, I’d still go to you.”

“You’re too kind, dear.”

Mrs. Gerald got called back to the counter just as Clara’s phone vibrated with a text. She frowned when she saw who it was from.

Malcolm: Hey, Clara. Is it okay if we chat?

She bit her lip. Holden and Jesse had told her about the interview with Deb. They’d asked her not to speak to Malcolm or anyone else from the running group until they got to the bottom of this.

Clara: I’m sorry, I can’t see anyone from the running club while my brother’s actively investigating the hospital. I hope you understand.

She hit send and winced. She hated writing that.

Nothing about Malcolm being a suspect felt right. She didn’t believe he’d intentionally make his patients sick. Heck, she didn’t believe he could murder Scarlett. Sure, they weren’t super close, but her gut told her she was right on this one.

“Hey.”

Her eyes flashed open to see Jesse in front of her. “Hey, big brother.”

He studied her face. Something he did often. “Everything okay?”

“Of course. But I’ll be better when you tell me what Scarlett’s cause of death was.” Holden had already told her what Jesse had found out about Scarlett’s job. It had just been one shock after the next lately.

“Respiratory depression.”

Clara gasped. Like others at the hospital. “What triggered it?”

“We’re still waiting on the tox report to find out.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…that your broken back door in combination with her investigating an open case is suspicious. And people from the hospital have better access to drugs than the general public.”

A knot formed in her belly.

“You’re staying away from them, right?” Jesse stepped closer. “You’re not in contact with anyone from the hospital?”

She glanced at her phone, then back up. “I—”

“Darling, it’s time for gifts.”

Clara gave her mother a look. “Gifts? I said I didn’t need anything.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “It’s your thirtieth birthday.”

The next hour and a half was a blur of people and presents and cake. The cake was in the form of a big acupuncture needle and was the best she’d ever tasted.

She was just taking her empty plate to the trash can when a car passed The Tea House. She frowned at the sight of Malcolm behind the wheel and he frowned back. Suddenly, he was pulling over and climbing out.

Crap. If he came in here, her brothers and Holden would lose their minds in front of everyone.

Before she could think better of it, she rushed outside. “What are you doing here?”

Malcolm stopped in front of her. “I need to talk to you.” He shot a glance at The Tea House, then back to her. “It’s your birthday?”

“Yeah. Thirty.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. But you need to go.”

Frustration flickered in his eyes. “I need to know if your brother’s said anything about Scarlett’s death.”

He was trying to get information from her? “Why?”

“Because…” His chest rose and fell. “I’m pretty sure he thinks I did it.”

“Did he say that?”

“No. But he was asking me what I was doing the night she died. I was home alone, and I know he didn’t believe me. I could see it in his eyes. And if Scarlett’s cause of death is linked to Lauren’s and the others who’ve gotten sick…this won’t look good for me.”

No…not if they were his patients as Holden had told her they were.

“What was that?”

She frowned. “What was what?”

“That expression. You know something.”

“Malcolm—”

He grabbed her arms. “Clara, you need to tell me what he’s said.”

“Malcolm, stop it. If you didn’t do anything wrong, then you have nothing to worry about.”

“At the beginning, I thought that too. But it just keeps happening.”

The door opened behind her.

“ Hey! ”

She turned to see Holden stepping outside, hands fisted, jaw set.

“Get your hands off her,” he growled, stepping toward them.

Malcolm’s hands dropped. “I’m sorry! I just needed to talk to her.”

“No, you don’t.”

Anger flashed over Malcolm’s face. “Well, considering her roommate was investigating my workplace and her brother thinks I’m a murderer, yeah, I kind of do!”

Holden stepped forward, towering over Malcolm. “She has nothing to do with any of that.”

Clara grabbed his arm. “Holden. We were just talking.”

The door opened again, and this time Jesse and Becket stepped out.

Oh, Jesus.

“What’s going on?” Jesse asked.

Malcolm cursed. “Nothing. I was just trying to talk to Clara.”

“Why?” Becket asked.

Clara turned to her brothers and put her hands on their chests. “Stop. I’m fine. I voluntarily came out here to talk to him, but he’s leaving now.” She threw him a pointed look over her shoulder.

Malcolm’s jaw visibly clenched, but he turned and hurried toward his car. The three men around her didn’t move or take their eyes off him, each of them looking ready to attack if needed.

When Malcolm drove away, Becket turned to Clara. “What were you thinking?”

“He saw me in there. I came out here to avoid a scene.” Ha. That hadn’t worked.

Holden crossed his arms.

Jesse stepped forward. “You should have gotten me. You need to stay away from him until the investigation’s over.”

She rubbed her temple, the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Becket scrubbed a hand over his face. “She made a mistake. Come on, Jesse, let’s go back inside.”

“Promise me, Clara,” Jesse warned.

She sighed. “I promise.”

Jesse’s face gentled, and he leaned down and kissed her cheek while Becket squeezed her arm, then they both returned to the café.

Holden stepped closer. “Why did he come here, Clara?”

“He texted and asked to talk. I told him no, and it was just dumb luck that he was driving past.”

His eyes narrowed. “What did he want to talk about?”

“He wanted to know if Jesse had spoken to me about him. He’s worried Scarlett’s death is being pinned on him.”

“Did you tell him anything?”

“No. I don’t know anything except that she died from respiratory depression. And he didn’t tell me anything.”

He gently folded her into his arms. “I’m sorry you’re dealing with this.”

“It’s not your fault. I just want to know what happened to Scarlett.”

“We’ll find out. I promise.”

She nodded, but one question burned in her mind…when?

She rubbed her temple a second time.

“Are you okay?” Holden asked, concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, just a headache. I think I need to drink more water.”

He studied her for a moment before he nodded. “Let’s get you some water then.”

Then he slipped an arm around her waist and led her inside. She shot one more glance behind her to the road, but Malcolm was long gone. And she couldn’t help but wonder…if she didn’t think he was the murder, why was all the evidence pointing to him?