"It's Carl," she called out, already moving toward the door.
"I'll give you two some privacy," her grandmother said, and Sara Lee caught the knowing smile as she disappeared back into the kitchen.
Sara Lee opened the door. "Carl. Hi."
"Hey." His smile was strained, not reaching his eyes. "Is this a bad time?"
"No, not at all. Come in."
He followed her into the living room, and Sara Lee gestured to the sofa. But Carl remained standing, his hands shoved in his pockets, his gaze darting around the room without really settling on anything.
She could tell he was upset, and the realization made her chest tighten. She hated the distance between them right now… him standing, her sitting, when what she wanted was to close the space and tell him everything would be okay.
"I should sit," he said suddenly, as if realizing he was hovering. But instead of taking the sofa, he chose a winged-back chair and sat facing her, his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped together.
She was on the sofa, feeling the awkward space between them. Everything felt suddenly so complicated as she shoved down the desire to comfort him.
"I'm no longer a suspect," he said abruptly. "As far as giving Raymond the drug, I mean. I was at the festival all day with people. Then granddad and I were together at his place until late. I ended up spending the night there.”
"Thank God," Sara Lee breathed, relief flooding through her so intensely that her eyes stung with tears. "Carl, I never thought?—"
"I know." His smile was brief, grateful. "Thank you for that. But..." He hesitated, then continued. "Someone, somehow, managed to take that syringe from my clinic. I don't know how. The pitiful security footage we haveshows nothing. But it happened under my watch, from my inventory."
"That's not your fault."
"Isn't it? I'm responsible for those controlled substances. For their security." His jaw tightened. "I'm putting security cameras in each room of the clinic now. And changing the policy so that two people must always enter the drug room together to log in. That doesn't help now, but it will keep this from happening again."
She wanted to reach out to him, but something in his posture held her back. He looked like he might crack if touched.
He stood abruptly, and she scrambled to her feet as well. They stood there, three feet apart, the distance feeling both too much and somehow necessary.
"I should go," he said. "I just wanted you to know about me not being a suspect anymore. I thought you'd want to hear it from me."
"I did. I do." The words felt inadequate. She rushed forward. "I'm so sorry, Carl."
He hesitated, his eyes meeting hers finally. For a moment, she thought he might say something more. Then his expression softened slightly as his gaze remained on her.
Sara Lee closed the distance between them and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her in return, and she could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way he gripped her like she was an anchor in rough water.
"Thank you," he murmured against her hair. "For believing in me."
"Always," she whispered back.
When they pulled apart, his smile was a little more genuine. "I'll see you soon?"
"Yes."
After Carl left, Sara Lee stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching his truck disappear down the street. Her chest felt tight with a complicated mix of relief and worry and something tender that she wasn't quite ready to name.
She found her grandmother now in her study, Mister Smee in her lap, purring contentedly as she stroked his orange fur.
"He's not a suspect anymore," she said, sinking onto the settee.
"I heard," Nana June said gently, her gaze warm. "That's wonderful news, sweetheart."
"But someone still stole that syringe from his clinic. Someone in Meadowlark Creek took what they needed and poisoned Raymond." She looked at her grandmother. "But how? It couldn’t have been planned. And how did they get the poison into Raymond's flask without him knowing?"
In the silence, there were no answers. And Mister Smee just slept on the chair… not offering any guidance.
