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

mind.”
    “I can be adorable. When I feel like it. Which is not now.”
    “I’ll leave y’all to get reacquainted,” said Wanda. “I forgot to ask Cooper something. After this we’ll head back to the house. More Bransons coming this afternoon. The house is filling to the rafters with people and food.”
    “Do you need help?” Luke asked.
    Shawna took the opportunity to sidle toward my easel. I hopped forward and closed the sketch book.
    “No, JB is in the lobby with Ronny Price. I don’t know why Ronny insisted on coming with us. JB would be happier if he stayed at the dealership and watched over things.”
    “He’s worked for JB a long time, Mom. Maybe Ronny thought he could offer y’all some help. People don’t always know what to do in these situations.”
    “I guess you’re right,” said Wanda. “Shawna, why don’t you stay in here with Luke and Cherry? They’re getting ready for another viewing in the other room, so it’d be best if you stay out of the lobby.”
    Just what I needed. Shawna watching me draw. I wondered if she’ll find my sketches of Dustin’s dead body cute. Or adorable.
    “What about your allergy, Shawna?” I asked. “Don’t want you foaming at the mouth.”
    She shot me a look that would have killed a weaker woman. Lucky for me, my family is well versed in the evil eye. Grandpa’s house might as well have been a dojo for casting slitty-eyed looks.
    “Hon? You coming?” JB strode into the room, circling his gaze and snapping it back before resting on Dustin. Ronny Price followed. Ronny’s shiny forehead matched the sheen of his eggplant silk shirt and striped purple tie. He mopped a white handkerchief across his face, shoved it in his pocket, and ran both hands methodically over his gleaming brown pompadour.
    Shawna’s brow creased and she slunk closer to Luke. Feeling more out of place, I edged closer to my easel unsure what good manners dictated in this situation. One thing was for sure, I wasn’t getting much sketching done.
    “JB, do you have the little sack I want to bury with Dustin?” said Wanda.
    All eyes fixed on Wanda as we collectively wondered what items could necessitate burying with Dustin. A childhood toy that somehow survived Dustin’s abuse? You know the pyromaniac kid who lops off the heads of his action figures and burns them in effigy on the backyard grill? That was Dustin.
    And I now had a shopping bag of these treasures in my truck. The memory box project promised to be interesting work. Hopefully Miss Wanda didn’t choose anything too freakish for display. My stomach did an unsettling flop at that idea.
    JB handed her a small cloth pouch. “Just shove them in his pocket or something.” Glowering, he pivoted on his heel and left the room. Wanda grasped the gray flannel bag in her hand, a wrinkle of unease forming between her eyes.
    “I’ll take that for you, Mom.” Luke reached for the bag, but Wanda whisked it into her purse.
    “No, no. I’ll have Cooper do it.” She trailed after JB.
    Ronny considered the group left in the room. Smoothing his coiffure, he studied Shawna who returned his appreciative glance with an unbecoming lift to her lip. He turned his attention to Luke and me. “Good to see you, Luke. Been a long time. What’re you doing here, Cherry?”
    I glanced toward the coffin. “Miss Wanda wants Dustin’s final portrait painted.”
    “I’m doing it, too,” piped in Shawna. “Except I’m making a Paintograph. It’s cutting edge.”
    “Say what?”
    I smirked, hoping I’d hear that response a lot in the next few days. Ronny moved to a safer subject. “Still got that Datsun? Is that thing still running? Ready to trade it in?”
    “Still running. Not quite ready to give her up.”
    Luke sniggered and I glared back. We couldn’t all have a stepdad who provided gleaming black pickups to keep the family peace. Unfortunately, JB couldn’t do the same for his biological son. Dustin sold the vehicles and pocketed the