Could there be more there than a friendship? Her stomach rolled, and she looked away from them.
“Jesus, there’s only one person serving.” Scarlett scowled, shaking her head. “Should have gone to The Tea House.”
So it wasn’t just her.
Clara glanced around. No one was in listening distance. Good. She shuffled her stool closer. “Scarlett. We need to talk.”
“Shoot.” Scarlett lifted her phone, not even giving Clara eye contact.
“Can we go somewhere else?”
“I’m a little busy. My editor needs an answer on something, and I can’t leave her hanging.”
Fine. If she wanted to do it here, they’d do it here. “Are you investigating the woman who died and linking it to the recentheart failures and respiratory depressions at the hospital? Are you trying to put the hospital at fault?”
Scarlett’s head flashed up, shock widening her eyes. “What?”
“That’s why you joined this group, isn’t it? To get close to everyone who works there.”
Scarlett leaned in close to Clara and hissed, “First of all, what I do is none of your business. Second, if you tell anyone your little theory, you’ll regret it.” Then she got up and stormed off.
She’d regret it? Was that a threat? Was that even allowed in the world of journalism?
At the feel of eyes on her, she looked at Holden’s table to see him staring straight at her, questions and concern in his gaze.
The stool beside her scraped once again as Malcolm sat down. “Hey. Is everything okay?”
Should she tell him? If she did, what would Scarlett do?
She opened her mouth, not sure what words were about to come out, when she noticed Helen down at the other end of the counter, drinking a coffee alone. “Is Helen okay? She hasn’t seemed herself since that night at the bar.”
He glanced at Helen, then back to her. “You don’t need to worry about Helen.”
“Idoworry about her. I worry about you too, and everyone else. I know stuff’s going on at the hospital. Patients are getting sick. It has to be weighing on you.”
He blanched before grabbing her wrist and leading her to the hall beside the counter.
“Malcolm, what are you—”
He turned. “Did Helen tell you that?”
“Um…maybe. Why?”
“You can’t talk about it in public.”
“But if it’s okay now, why does it matter?”
“Because we’re all trying to leave it in the past. It’sover. Helen’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s okay.”
“You don’t pull someone into a hall to tell them to stop talking about something if everything’s okay.”
His lips thinned, and little lines formed beside his eyes. It was the first time she’d seen him visibly frustrated. “Clara—”
“Everything okay here?”
Clara looked up to see a very annoyed-looking Holden.
Holden fisted his hands,trying like hell to remain exactly where he was and not break up whatever little chat Clara and Malcolm were having. It was none of his business, so he shouldn’t care how close they sat or how intimate their conversation looked.
