A Bitter Feast(55)

“You’d better not get too accustomed to the lap of luxury,” he teased.

“It’s not that—although I have to admit it is nice. It’s just that I didn’t expect the place to be so . . . I don’t know. Relaxed, maybe. I will be glad to get home, though.”

They’d decided at breakfast that Kincaid would stay another day to deal with any issues that might arise with the car insurance, and that Melody would run Gemma and the children to the train after Sunday lunch. Melody and Doug would drive back later in the afternoon in Melody’s car. The Talbots had planned to stay another few days and had assured Kincaid that he was welcome.

“Ivan wants to take me to look at a car in the morning,” Kincaid said now. “He says he has a friend who can make me a really good deal.”

“Not on anything we can afford, if he’s in Ivan’s league.” Gemma was horrified at the idea. “And we don’t know yet what the insurance will pay on the Astra—”

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything rash. But it only seemed polite to accept the offer. And we are going to need a car as soon as possible.”

“Well, just don’t—”

“Mummy,” said Charlotte, running to her with the crumpled tissue, “I have lots of petals. What’s a sashay?”

Gemma wasn’t quite ready to tackle homonyms, so said simply, “It’s something you put in a drawer to make it smell nice. Shall I keep your petals for—” Gemma stopped as Ivan stepped out onto the terrace.

“Is Melody about?” he called to them. He was holding one of the house phones and looking perplexed. As he came to meet them, he added, “Doug said she was going to take him round the gardens but she seems to have disappeared.”

“I haven’t seen her,” Gemma said. “Can we help?”

“I’ve just had Viv Holland on the phone, ringing for Addie. She sounded quite hysterical. Something about her bartender being killed.”

“What?” said Gemma. “Not Jack?” Kincaid gave her a surprised glance. “I spent half an hour with him yesterday,” she explained. “He was feeling very bad about Nell Greene. What on earth happened?

“A hit-and-run, she said. She heard it from the woman who found him, apparently.”

“So the police haven’t been yet?” Kincaid asked, frowning.

“Not that Viv said. Since Addie isn’t back from church, I thought Melody might go down and lend a bit of support.”

“I’ll go,” Gemma said quickly.

“There’s no need for you to do that, lass. You’re our guest—”

“No, I want to go.” Gemma couldn’t quite wrap her mind round the fact that the friendly barman who’d insisted she try his special gin was dead. She wanted to know exactly what had happened.

The boys, pink-cheeked from exertion in the crisp air, had come up from the bottom lawn. Toby was examining Charlotte’s petals, but Kit had come to stand with them.

“Well, if you’re certain,” said Ivan, not putting up much resistance. “I’ll just give you a lift down.”

“To the pub?” asked Kit, who’d missed the first part of the conversation. “Can I go, too? Grace texted and asked if I could walk the dog with her.”

Gemma started to refuse, then thought that it might be a good idea for Grace to be otherwise occupied for a while. She’d explain the situation to Kit on the way. “Okay,” she said. “If you’re ready now.”

Charlotte, sensing a disturbance, came and clung to Gemma’s leg. “Mummy, I don’t want you to go.”

Gemma picked her up and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back soon. You stay with Dad, lovey.”

She glanced at Kincaid, who nodded and took Charlotte’s hand as Gemma let her slide to the ground, saying, “Come on, sweet pea, we’ll find your mum some more petals.”

Knowing Toby would protest, too, Gemma turned away, but not before she’d seen Kincaid slide his mobile from his pocket.





Chapter Fifteen

Booth picked up on the first ring, sounding irritated.

“It’s Kincaid here.” He could hear road noise in the background. “Sorry to bother you, but I thought you should know there’s been another death associated with the pub in Lower Slaughter.”

“The hit-and-run? The pathologist rang me. She’s still at the scene and I’m on my way there now. How did you know?”

“Viv Holland called for Addie. Apparently she’s in quite a state. The victim was her bartender.”

“Bugger,” Booth muttered. “I was hoping to break the news to her myself. You’re still at the Talbots’?” When Kincaid confirmed it, Booth said, “I’m just coming into the village. Why don’t I swing by and pick you up? I suspect you’ll want to see this for yourself.”

Kincaid agreed and rang off before he remembered that Gemma had left him in charge of the children. Bloody hell. How could he have forgotten that? He’d felt odd since the accident—things he would ordinarily remember kept slipping from his mind. Now what was he going to do? He wanted to see the accident scene but he couldn’t leave the kids unattended.

Charlotte had gone back to picking up rose petals, singing to herself, but Toby had been listening. “Where are you going, Dad? Mum said you’d watch a video with us.”