Dreaming of the Bones by Deborah Crombie Read Free Book Online

it, Duncan. You promised. Read me Alfie’s Boots.”
    “It’s Alfie’s Feet , lovey,” corrected Gemma. Toby had developed a strong sense of identification with the little blond boy in Shirley Hughes’s books and demanded the stories so often that Gemma knew them by heart. Kneeling, she took the book from him. “I’ll tell you what, darling. Why don’t you go back in your room and find Dogger , too. Then I’ll read them both to you before bed.” She gave him an encouraging pat on the bottom as she stood and faced Duncan again. “I’m not quarreling,” she said. “You’re being patronizing.”
    “You’re making a fuss over nothing, Gemma,” he said, leaning back and propping his hip against the black half-moon table that served as both dining area and worktop in her tiny flat. “You wouldn’t be so upset if I’d agreed to do this for someone else.”
    “That’s just too bloody condescending,” she hissed at him. “You wouldn’t have done it for someone else!”
    A shadow passed across the uncurtained garden windows, then a moment later came a tap at the door. Gemma took a breath and rubbed at her already flushed cheeks.
    “Expecting someone?” Kincaid asked. Arms folded, he looked maddeningly unperturbed.
    “It must be Hazel.”
    Gemma gave him one last furious look, crossed the room, and slid back the bolt. When Gemma had given up the house she’d shared with her ex-husband and moved into the garage flat in Islington, she’d acquired an unexpected friend in her landlady, Hazel Cavendish, and Toby an ally in her daughter, Holly.
    “Hullo, love.” Hazel greeted Gemma with a hug, then brandished a video in one hand while waving at Kincaid with the other. “Hullo, Duncan. We’ve rented The Lion King —again—and I thought maybe Toby could watch it with us before bed. And if the kids should happen to fall asleep on the sofa in front of the telly,we’ll just tuck them up and let them snooze.” She gave Gemma and Duncan a conspiratorial grin.
    “You’re too good, Hazel,” said Gemma in an effort to recover a little composure.
    “I’m not. You’ve had him out all day and Holly’s pining for him. I can’t bear listening to her whine another second. Humor me.” Hazel crossed the room to Kincaid and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Mmmm, you smell lovely. Nice shirt, too,” she added, rubbing a bit of the sleeve fabric between her thumb and forefinger.
    “Thanks, Hazel. I’m sure that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day.”
    It was Gemma’s favorite shirt, a fine-textured dark blue denim that made Kincaid’s gray-blue eyes look uncompromisingly blue. The realization that he’d worn it to visit Vic made her temperature start rising again.
    “Auntie Hazel!” Toby darted into the room and clung to Hazel’s leg like a limpet. “Are we going to watch The Lion King?” He made growling noises and pranced round them, king of the jungle.
    “I suppose you are,” said Gemma, giving in gracefully. “We’ll get no peace otherwise, now.” She tousled his fair hair.
    “You, too, Mummy,” he demanded. “You watch, too.”
    “No, sweetheart, I—”
    “Do, Gemma,” Kincaid broke in. “I’ve got to go, anyway. It’s been a long day, and we’ve an early start in the morning.” He retrieved his jacket from the back of the chair, gave Gemma a quick kiss that just missed the corner of her mouth, then knelt and held out a palm for Toby to slap, saying, “See ya, sport.” At the door he turned back. “’Bye, Hazel. Gemma, see you at the Yard first thing, all right?” He smiled at them and slipped out.
    Gemma and Hazel stared at each other as the echo of the door closing died away, then they heard the distant sputter of the Midget’s engine.
    “Gemma, love, did I do something wrong?” asked Hazel, frowning. “Put my foot in somehow?”
    Gemma shook her head wordlessly, then managed a strangled, “Of all the bloody cheek…”
    Assessing the situation, Hazel said,