Portrait of a Dead Guy by Larissa Reinhart

Author:Larissa Reinhart [Reinhart, Larissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Mystery, humor, cozy, Humour, amateur sleuth, Contemporary, Romance, cozy mystery, murder mystery, humorous mystery, female sleuth, mystery series
ISBN: 9781938383021
Goodreads: 13579199
Publisher: Henery Press
Published: 2012-08-22T23:00:00+00:00

“I know you well enough. They should revoke your permit for being crazy.”

“I am not crazy!”

“This from the woman who comes charging out her house with a gun! Stop arguing with me. The guy’s gone. Must’ve parked on another street.”

I stepped out of the headlights to circle toward his door. Luke hung out the open window, his flexed arm hugging the door. “You don’t use the sense God gave you. Don’t you know vigilantes usually get themselves killed?”

I straightened into my fullest five foot and a half inch. “I wasn’t planning on getting myself killed. That’s why I’m carrying a loaded gun, dummy.”

“I’ll let that pass.” He stared into the rearview mirror, ignoring my look that would kill lesser mortals. After a long moment, he jerked his head back to fix me with a chilly expression. “Go back in the house. Turn on all the lights. Lock the door.”

“And what are you planning on doing?”

“Listen, we had some fun, but this isn’t a good idea. You’re sticking in Halo and I’m not.”

“Not a good idea? This was your idea. You seduced me with chicken in my kitchen and now you’re blowing me off in the carport ten minutes later? Whatever.” I tossed my head so dramatically, my hair whipped my shoulders. “Hey, I’ve got a life. And I don’t need you in it.”

“You don’t need to be like that.” He turned to the windshield and smacked the door with his hand. His eyes flew to the rear view mirror and narrowed in a disgusted squint. “And here’s your boyfriend. He knew Dustin. Did you ask where he was the night you got your head knocked in?”

A red hatchback with ground effects and die-cast alloy wheels pulled up to the curb.

“He’s not my—”

The eight-cylinder truck engine revved, drowning my protest. The gleaming black beast reversed down the drive, bumped into the street, and tore off into the night.

“By the way, you never told me where you were that night either. Jerk.”

I waited in the dark carport, grasping the shotgun with one hand. Todd unfolded himself from the car and loped up the driveway. The perfect symmetry in his face fell out of balance as he squinted at me.

“Hey, baby. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Paranoia made me spit the word. Todd’s timing was a little too impeccable. Where was he ten minutes earlier?

“What’s with the gun? You’ve been in a fight? Who was that?” Todd studied my appearance with growing concern. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Are you bleeding? Babe!”

My eyes dropped to my clothes. My tank top remained rolled halfway up, revealing the pale skin of my stomach streaked with wing sauce. Saucy fingerprints danced across my jeans and felt sticky on my back. I patted my face and static zinged hair.

“It’s just hot sauce. I’m fine. It’s probably all over my kitchen, too.” I moaned, thinking of the mess, and collapsed against a sawhorse workbench stacked with cans of paint and stain. A light breeze blew through the carport, adding goosebumps to my dirty skin.

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