Chương 4
Nina Hayes arrived at the hospital carrying a grocery bag, a phone charger, and the expression she normally reserved for landlords.
Nina was Clara’s older cousin by eleven years and the closest thing Clara had to a sister. She ran a dry-cleaning shop in Queens, raised a fourteen-year-old daughter, and distrusted all men who owned more than one watch.
She set the grocery bag on the windowsill. “I brought you socks, crackers, and a sports drink that tastes like a melted traffic cone.”
Clara held out her hand.
Nina hugged her carefully, avoiding the monitor wires. Then she stepped back and examined the bandage.
“Who do I sue first?”
“No one.”
“Wrong answer.”
“The baby’s okay.”
Nina’s face softened. “Good.”
“The boys are okay too.”
“Also good. The billionaire?”
“Not bleeding.”
“Then he ranks fourth.”
Clara managed a small laugh. It became a sob before she could stop it.
Nina sat beside her and waited. She did not say everything would be fine. Her life had cured her of promises that required no evidence.
When Clara could breathe again, Nina handed her the phone.
“Your employer’s public relations people released a statement.”
Clara read it.
The Reed family confirmed that an incident had occurred at a private event and that all children present were safe. The statement expressed concern for an unnamed household employee and requested privacy while authorities investigated.
“Unnamed,” Nina said.
“That may be for my protection.”
“Your name is trending.”
Clara handed back the phone.
“There’s another statement,” Nina said. “From the Crane family.”
She opened it.
The Crane family expressed confidence that Isabelle would be fully exonerated from what they called a cruel and opportunistic accusation. They referred to Clara as a “disgruntled domestic employee” with “documented boundary issues.”
Clara read the phrase twice.
“What documented boundary issues?”
Nina asked the question quietly.
Clara stared at the green heartbeat line.
“I gave Lucas something Isabelle told me was prescribed.”
Nina’s mouth opened.
“Once,” Clara said. “Six weeks ago. I refused after that.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did his father know?”
“No.”
Nina stood and walked to the window. She folded the hospital parking receipt in half, then half again.
“You need a lawyer.”
“I can’t afford one.”
“You can’t afford not to have one.”
“The police said I’m a witness.”
“Today.”
Clara looked down at her stomach. The baby shifted beneath the monitor strap, pressing a heel against her side.
Nina turned back. “You are not going to the mansion when they discharge you.”
“My apartment is there.”
“Then your things can stay rich for a while.”
“I have nowhere else.”
“You have my couch.”
“You have three rooms and a teenager.”
“My teenager sleeps like she’s been sedated by TikTok.”
“Nina.”
“Clara.”
They stared at each other.
Nina’s anger was rarely elegant. It had saved Clara more than once.
“Fine,” Clara said. “Your couch.”
“Good. Now tell me everything you haven’t told the billionaire.”
The detectives arrived before Clara finished.
Detective Lena Ortiz introduced herself without a notebook in hand. Her partner, Daniel Wu, carried one but kept it closed. They asked Nina to step outside and told Clara she could request an attorney before answering.
That frightened her more than if they had treated her casually.
“Am I suspected of something?”
Ortiz pulled a chair closer. “At this point, we’re determining what happened.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No,” Ortiz said. “It’s the accurate response.”
Clara told them about the party, the pitcher, the vial, and the earlier incident with Lucas. This time she included every detail she could remember: Isabelle’s left hand holding the silver bottle, the torn label, the bitter smell, the way Lucas had slept with his mouth open, the damp curl against his forehead when Clara tried to wake him.
Wu finally opened his notebook.
“Did you photograph the first vial?”
“No.”
“Did you keep the spoon?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else see Ms. Crane give it to you?”
“No.”
“Did you tell anyone afterward?”
“Maria. Not everything. I said I thought Isabelle had given Lucas something too strong.”
“When?”
“The next day.”
“Did Maria see the vial?”
“No.”
Ortiz crossed one ankle over the other. “The vial recovered today has a partial fingerprint that may be yours.”
Clara’s skin went cold.
“How do you know that already?”
“We don’t. Preliminary comparison suggests it. Formal processing will take longer.”
“She handed it to me six weeks ago.”
“You’re certain it was the same vial?”
“It looked the same.”
“Silver medicine vials aren’t common,” Wu said.
“That’s why I noticed.”
“Did you bring it into the pantry today?”
“No.”
“Did you put anything into the pitcher?”
“No.”
“Did you know the pitcher would be used for the children?”
“Yes. I prepared the juice.”
“Who else handled it?”
“The caterer delivered it empty. I washed it. Maria made the juice. One of the event staff carried it to the service pantry.”
“Name?”
“I don’t know.”
Ortiz watched her for a moment. “Ms. Crane says she entered the pantry because she heard glass clinking. She says you were standing over the pitcher with the vial.”
“She’s lying.”
“She says you accused her of trying to replace you in the household.”
“She has been trying to replace me.”
“She says you are emotionally attached to Mr. Reed and his children.”
“I am attached to the boys.”
“And Mr. Reed?”
Clara felt heat climb her throat.
“He is my employer.”
“That wasn’t the question,” Wu said.
“He is a grieving man who often forgets to eat dinner and pretends he doesn’t. I have worked in his home for four years. I care whether he is alive. That does not mean I poisoned his children.”
Neither detective reacted.
Clara looked from one to the other. “Do you believe her?”
May you like
Ortiz’s voice remained even. “Belief is not our job tonight.”
After they left, Clara found Nina in the hall arguing with someone from hospital security. A photographer had tried to reach the maternity floor using a borrowed visitor badge.
