Read Online The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series) by Catriona King - Free Book Online
Authors: Catriona King
Tags: Fiction & Literature
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was easy to see why. Wrapped around her petite form was a wedding dress so beautiful that it brought tears to Katy’s eyes.
Soft folds of silky white fabric fell like a waterfall from one shoulder, held there with by an elegant silver clasp. They reached the floor and continued the analogy, spreading out behind Natalie in a fluid train, long enough to announce the importance of the occasion but short enough not to swamp her tiny frame. Katy gasped as Natalie walked slowly to the mirror and turned, showing that the dress was just as beautiful from the back. She nodded for permission to touch the silk. It was cobweb light and cool and Katy pictured her friend walking towards John wearing it, with her long dark curls flowing down her back. The effect would be stunning.
Natalie gazed at herself in the mirror, wearing a shocked expression. She smoothed down the fabric and glanced at her friend with a hopeful question in her eyes. Katy smiled and just then Leondra produced a matching bridesmaid’s dress in the creamiest lemon that they had ever seen. Natalie would have her yellow and white wedding and they would both look lovely while she did.
***
Saturday. 7.30 a.m.
Davy was at work uncharacteristically early. He was already yawning at his desk when Craig arrived, having managed to slip through the morning traffic around St George’s Market before it built up. St George’s was a Belfast landmark; the last surviving Victorian covered market in Belfast, built in 1890. Its stalls traded in everything from gourmet food to art.
Craig threw his suit jacket in his small office and strolled out onto the floor, holding a percolator aloft in invitation. Davy nodded and loped across to Nicky’s desk to meet his boss. Nicky’s desk was a strange place; an unofficial village square where people hung out. The street corner that they’d all frequented as teenagers, knowing that it was the place to see and be seen if you were cool. It was where things happened first; phones rang offering exciting new cases and printers spat out the, literally, hot news. Nicky’s percolator held ever-bubbling coffee and her desk drawers were an Aladdin’s cave of sweet things. Above all Nicky’s desk was beside Craig’s office, the epicentre of the squad, where the coolest kid, the Fonz himself, hung out.
This morning Nicky’s desk was just the nearest coffee stop and the two men watched bleary-eyed as the brown liquid bubbled, until Craig finally deemed it fit to drink and poured them both a mug. He perched on the edge of the desk and considered Davy carefully; he saw his team members every day but he didn’t often look at them.
Davy had always been tall, well at least in the three years he’d been on the squad, but he seemed to have grown recently. His once reed-thin frame was broader and more adult and his almost pretty aquiline features were morphing into more masculine good looks. Craig knew Davy hadn’t even noticed; unless something had a code or cipher on it he ignored it completely. Craig completed his scrutiny, skimming past Davy’s shoulder-length hair and stopping at the tiredness of his face. Dark shadows had settled under his eyes like gathering storm clouds and Craig had noticed enough to know that they hadn’t been there the day before.
He smiled kindly. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Davy nodded slowly as if unsure how much to say. Craig said it for him.
“It was the book you gave your father, wasn’t it?”
Davy nodded and at that moment Craig was ashamed of how little he knew about his staff. He knew that Davy had been dating Maggie Clarke, a journalist he’d met on a case, for almost two years and he vaguely remembered a mention of a sister, but beyond that nothing. He knew he’d failed on the team part of his job but once he was focused on a case everything else ceased to exist, a point that every woman he’d been involved with had pointed out.
His voice softened. “Do you miss him a lot?” Hoping it would be
Soft folds of silky white fabric fell like a waterfall from one shoulder, held there with by an elegant silver clasp. They reached the floor and continued the analogy, spreading out behind Natalie in a fluid train, long enough to announce the importance of the occasion but short enough not to swamp her tiny frame. Katy gasped as Natalie walked slowly to the mirror and turned, showing that the dress was just as beautiful from the back. She nodded for permission to touch the silk. It was cobweb light and cool and Katy pictured her friend walking towards John wearing it, with her long dark curls flowing down her back. The effect would be stunning.
Natalie gazed at herself in the mirror, wearing a shocked expression. She smoothed down the fabric and glanced at her friend with a hopeful question in her eyes. Katy smiled and just then Leondra produced a matching bridesmaid’s dress in the creamiest lemon that they had ever seen. Natalie would have her yellow and white wedding and they would both look lovely while she did.
***
Saturday. 7.30 a.m.
Davy was at work uncharacteristically early. He was already yawning at his desk when Craig arrived, having managed to slip through the morning traffic around St George’s Market before it built up. St George’s was a Belfast landmark; the last surviving Victorian covered market in Belfast, built in 1890. Its stalls traded in everything from gourmet food to art.
Craig threw his suit jacket in his small office and strolled out onto the floor, holding a percolator aloft in invitation. Davy nodded and loped across to Nicky’s desk to meet his boss. Nicky’s desk was a strange place; an unofficial village square where people hung out. The street corner that they’d all frequented as teenagers, knowing that it was the place to see and be seen if you were cool. It was where things happened first; phones rang offering exciting new cases and printers spat out the, literally, hot news. Nicky’s percolator held ever-bubbling coffee and her desk drawers were an Aladdin’s cave of sweet things. Above all Nicky’s desk was beside Craig’s office, the epicentre of the squad, where the coolest kid, the Fonz himself, hung out.
This morning Nicky’s desk was just the nearest coffee stop and the two men watched bleary-eyed as the brown liquid bubbled, until Craig finally deemed it fit to drink and poured them both a mug. He perched on the edge of the desk and considered Davy carefully; he saw his team members every day but he didn’t often look at them.
Davy had always been tall, well at least in the three years he’d been on the squad, but he seemed to have grown recently. His once reed-thin frame was broader and more adult and his almost pretty aquiline features were morphing into more masculine good looks. Craig knew Davy hadn’t even noticed; unless something had a code or cipher on it he ignored it completely. Craig completed his scrutiny, skimming past Davy’s shoulder-length hair and stopping at the tiredness of his face. Dark shadows had settled under his eyes like gathering storm clouds and Craig had noticed enough to know that they hadn’t been there the day before.
He smiled kindly. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Davy nodded slowly as if unsure how much to say. Craig said it for him.
“It was the book you gave your father, wasn’t it?”
Davy nodded and at that moment Craig was ashamed of how little he knew about his staff. He knew that Davy had been dating Maggie Clarke, a journalist he’d met on a case, for almost two years and he vaguely remembered a mention of a sister, but beyond that nothing. He knew he’d failed on the team part of his job but once he was focused on a case everything else ceased to exist, a point that every woman he’d been involved with had pointed out.
His voice softened. “Do you miss him a lot?” Hoping it would be
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