Portrait of a Dead Guy (15 page)

“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.

“You’re eating wings in the dark? With Luke Harper? Looks like you kept missing your mouth.”

“Something like that,” I bit my words off. “What are you doing here?”

“I ran into the guys at Red’s. They said you were there tonight.”

“The guys? Jackson. Creepy Pete?”

“Jackson. And Red, of course. Didn’t see Pete. Let me think of who else.” His fingers strummed his chin.

“I’m not asking for a rundown of Red’s patrons,” I narrowed my eyes. “Not Pete, huh?”

“No.”

“Speaking of Pete, what did you tell him about us?”

He shot another glance at the shotgun. “What do you mean?”

“What did you tell him about Vegas?”

His fingers played across the drumsticks poking out of his back pocket. “I didn’t tell him we got married.”

“We didn’t get married, Todd. Not hardly. And his story includes a little more information.”

“I told him when we got to Vegas, getting married seemed like a good idea. He called me a few names I wouldn’t want to say in front of you.” Todd’s hands whipped the drumsticks out of his pocket and beat a cadence against his hips. “And then I might have explained how we weren’t married.”

“Pete’s telling everybody that you left me at the altar. That you broke up with me.” My voice sizzled. “And I ran around Vegas in a wedding dress to BEG you to marry me.”

Todd picked the wrong night to wander up my drive. And how could he sit motionless through an entire poker game but couldn’t go three seconds without drumming around me?

“He said I said what?” Todd’s forehead crinkled in confusion. The sticks rattled a drum roll against his thighs.

“Are you telling people that you jilted me?”

“You said you didn’t want anybody to know you pulled a Britney.” His eyes dropped to the Remington in my arms. “Can you put your gun down?”

“I didn’t mean for you to say that I got dumped!”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“Why would I want you to say that?”

Todd eyed the gun. The tempo against his thighs grew. “I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Stop yelling at me.”

“Stop the drumming!”

Todd jumped and the drumsticks flew through the air. “Sorry. Baby. Can you put the gun down? Please?” Todd backed down the driveway with his hands held before him.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I waved a hand at him. “I’m not going to shoot you.”

“Why do you have a gun? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

“Somebody was sneaking around here. And it may or may not have something to do with Dustin getting killed.”

“Does it have to do with your breakin at Cooper’s?”

“I wasn’t involved in the breakin. I was in Cooper’s when somebody broke in and wacked me a good one.”

“Because you’re hanging out with this Luke and asking questions?”

“That’s a good point.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks for giving me some food for thought. And now I’ve got to work.” I turned to drag myself into the house. “You better stop these rumors about Vegas. I’m about up to here with it.” My hand flicked the top of my head.

“You scare me, baby.”

I looked over my shoulder at Todd. The wide, blue eyes gazed back at me.

“I worry about you living alone,” he said. “Now you got people hitting you on the head and sneaking around your house.”

“You’re sweet, but you know I can take care of myself.” I paused before turning back to the house. “Wait, is that why you’re here all the time?”

“I know you’re tough. Sometimes too tough. And a little mean. But, I admire you.” A blush heated Todd’s cheeks, making him more endearing. “You’re tough and smart and you make cool stuff. And you’re pretty sexy even though you’re kind of, you know, puny. Cherry—”

“Don’t, Todd. I’m in no mood for this.”

“Let’s go back to Vegas.” His grin broke wide across his cheeks, framed by two pairs of long, flawless dimples. He beat a happy rhythm against the sides of his pants.

I gazed at the beautiful dimples with fear and trepidation. I needed to have my hormones removed before I got into any more of these messes. Was this what happened to my mother? Did she get sidetracked from raising kids by dimples?

“You have the worst timing. Do you know that?”

“Naw.” He strode forward and slipped an arm over my shoulder. “I have great timing. That’s what makes me a kick-ass drummer and an awesome poker player.”

“Don’t start making intelligent statements like that. You deserve someone much nicer than me. Keep up the sweet talk and I’ll be all over you like white on rice. And that won’t do either of us any good. Vegas was a huge mistake. I need to be grounded.”

“Come on. Let me in the house. I can tell you’re feeling lonely.”

“I have to get a painting finished tonight.” I shook my head. “And my kitchen’s a mess, and I’m a mess.”

“How about I come in and just sit while you paint.” The cerulean blue eyes lifted in appeal. He threw a long, commanding arm against the kitchen door, reminding me of the Roman’s regal Caesar Augustus statue. “Like we used to when I modeled for you. We’ll order us some pizza and play some music. It’ll make you feel better.”

He had a point. I could use some cheering. I thought about using Todd as a model. He and Dustin shared similar coloring. Other than random perverts, Todd was the only person in Halo who would pose nude for my life drawings. I had some beautiful images of Todd. Of course, I also sketched some imbecilic drawings from Todd’s self-created poses that showed off his “abs of steel” and “power guns.”

I grinned and stood on my toes to peck his cheek. “Okay, you’ve got a deal. But that’s the only kiss you’re getting tonight.”

“That’s okay,” he said, hugging me.

I relaxed into his embrace and tested for any lustful feelings, but my mind wouldn’t stop buzzing over Luke’s accusations. Todd couldn’t be dangerous. He wasn’t smart enough to plan murders and burglaries and not get caught. Or was he? The male bimbo act fooled his poker buddies so he didn’t get the crap beat out of him when he won. Dumb luck, people thought. The dumb blonde front also lowered the defenses of women like me, those naturally wary of shrewd men.

What was I thinking? This was good ol’ Todd cuddling me, albeit a little too warmly for a recent breakup. I allowed that sneaky Luke to wreak havoc on my life. He was the one acting suspicious. I needed to rethink the relevance of tall, dark, and vinegary. Why couldn’t tall, blonde, and sweet trip my trigger?

Stumbling out of Todd’s embrace, I cut the light switch on. “You want to pose like you’re dead?”

“Sounds kinky. Wait, do I get to close my eyes?”

I pulled him into the living room to show him Dustin’s portrait.

“Dustin sorta looks like he’s sleeping. He’s got some nice hands there.” Todd stood back, cocking his head with a critic’s gaze. “You’re doing a good job, baby. I’ll help you get it done.”

“Thanks, Todd.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“You going to keep that gun with you?”

I glanced from the blued steel in my hand to the bare front window. Someone still snuck around Halo, invading homes and hitting innocent artists on the head. And I wanted to know who it was. Even if it meant revealing someone I cared about.

“You better believe it.” I laid the shotgun on the floor beside the easel and picked up a brush.