Read Online Portrait of a Dead Guy by Larissa Reinhart - Free Book Online Page B

scratched his shaggy blonde hair. The brown eyes danced over the grinning stud-muffin sitting next to me. Cody’s mouth drew into a smirk. “I figured if you needed bail money, your husband could put it up. You know I’m broke.”
    “I was not arrested and Todd is not my husband,” I shoveled a spoonful of grits into my mouth and glared across the table. “This was just a big misunderstanding.”
    “A big misunderstanding that landed you in jail.”
    “It was just questioning!”
    “I believe you, baby,” said Todd. “If you were going to rob a dead guy you would have been much sneakier.”
    “Thank you.” I studied him from the corner of my eye. The tall, blonde Adonis — worthy of a Botticelli fresco or at least a Calvin Klein underwear ad — stretched his arm across the back of our booth. Drumsticks poked out of the carpenter pocket of his cargo shorts. Somewhere beneath the table, slot-machine cherries tattooed one calf. “What’s with the new tattoo? I saw it when we walked in.”
    “You like it?” He beamed. “I did it for you. Because your name is Cherry.”
    “Yeah, I got that,” I said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to permanently ink references to me on your body.”
    “You’re my wife.” He corrected himself, “My first wife.”
    “Stop saying that,” I stabbed a piece of sausage. “We weren’t hardly married. Filling out the annulment papers took longer than the wedding.”
    “I actually don’t remember getting unmarried, only getting married.”
    “That can be blamed on tequila. You also didn’t remember me after the wedding.” I gazed at the solid forearms and broad shoulders with regret. “I spent my so-called honeymoon searching the casinos for you.”
    “That’s Vegas, baby. What can I say?” He shrugged. “We could try it again.”
    “You’re delusional.”
    “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said about me in a long time.” Todd hooked a piece of sausage from my plate. “I think you’re growing sweet on me again.”
    I sighed. Todd was like the dog you keep dropping off in the country to find him waiting at your house when you return home. One that was too cute to put out of his misery.
    Cody snorted. “I think you make a great couple. I don’t care what people say about y’all.”
    The bell above the door tinkled and our attention swung toward the entrance to check out the newcomer. Late night Waffle House always brought in an interesting crowd. We watched a lanky man with curly dark hair and fierce gray eyes push through the door. I hunkered over my plate, finding sudden fascination in my cooling grits and link sausage.
    “I guess grave robbing worked you up an appetite,” said Luke, ambling up to our table.
    I muttered a string of choice words not quite under my breath. “I wasn’t robbing Dustin. I was painting.”
    “Sheriff said they found Dustin’s effects on your person.”
    “That’s stretching it. They found that little bag under my person. I don’t think I’d go to all that trouble to steal baby teeth.”
    “Baby teeth?” said Todd. “Who would want to steal baby teeth?”
    “Who knows,” said Luke, “maybe some flaky artist wants to make some crazy art doo-dad with them.”
    “I don’t do assemblage. I paint. And I’m not flaky.”
    “Going to a funeral home to paint a dead body in the dark isn’t flaky?”
    “Sounds flaky to me,” agreed Cody. He leaned back in the booth and adjusted his cap to study Luke. “Who are you? You make my sister cuss like that, gets me pretty curious.”
    “You must be Cody. Mind if I sit?” Luke slid into the booth next to him. “I’m Luke Harper. You were a young ’un last time I met you. I’ve been gone a long time.”
    “I’m Todd McIntosh.” Todd extended his hand across the table. “I’m Cherry’s husband. Sort of.”
    “Really?” Luke’s eyebrows rose a notch. “I didn’t realize she was married.”
    “I’m not. Todd’s mistaken.”
    “How can you be