“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 withanyof 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’mfine. 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.
