Death Crashes the Party Read Online Free

heard you’re the one that found them.”
    I didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so I finally just said, “Yes.”
    She stood and continued talking with her back to me. “I guess I wish you could tell me that they looked peaceful or that they didn’t suffer, but . . . maybe the medical examiner can say when he’s done.”
    I laid the envelope on the coffee table and told her it contained her sons’ pay.
    â€œWe all get what’s coming to us, one way or another,” she said. “I plan to move away after all this is settled. There’s not much keeping me here now.”
    â€œRalph Harvey tells me your boys were well liked at McKay’s. Please call us if you need any help with the arrangements.”
    As I stood to leave, my cell phone rang. Caller ID popped up on the screen, indicating it was Larry Joe.
    â€œI should take this,” I said apologetically. I stepped out onto the front porch as I answered. I heard some static before the phone went dead.
    â€œThat’s odd,” I said.
    â€œCell phone reception is pretty spotty out here,” Tonya said, standing in the doorway behind me. “You might try calling back once you get over that big hill up on the main road.”
    On the drive home, I couldn’t help thinking about the fact there were no family photos in Tonya’s living room. I reasoned that she could have slipped pictures of her sons into a drawer after learning about their deaths. Maybe it was just too painful to look at them. Besides , I thought, I still have a box full of honeymoon photos in the closet I’ve been meaning to frame for years .
    I walked into the kitchen from the garage to find Larry Joe twisting the cap off a beer bottle. He hopped on his soapbox without even bothering to say hello.
    â€œI’ve been home an hour, and I already know you’ve been snooping around at the company garage, asking questions about the Farrells. And I know you didn’t come home last night but slipped in this morning, looking like something the cat dragged in.”
    â€œThat’s because Mrs. Cleats across the street is a dang busybody who thinks it’s her calling to keep her neighbors under surveillance. And Ralph Harvey has a big mouth.”
    â€œIt’s because we live in a small town,” Larry Joe said as he sidled up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on, Liv? You know I’m bound to hear about it, anyway.”
    I looked up at my husband’s cleft chin, dimples, and smiling brown eyes and fought the urge to kiss him. He’s not quite George Clooney handsome, but he’ll do.
    â€œSo are you worried about where I spent the night?” I said, breaking free from his embrace. I backed up to the counter and hoisted myself onto the granite top. From this vantage point, I could look Larry Joe squarely in the eye.
    â€œNot particularly. I told Mrs. Cleats you spent the night at your mama’s house after all the excitement yesterday.”
    â€œWell, you lied,” I said, stretching out the word lied as if it had three or four i ’s. “I spent the night at Di’s place after I got stinking drunk and passed out on her sofa.”
    â€œSee there,” he said with a wicked grin. “Doesn’t being honest make you feel better?” He walked to the counter, positioned himself between my dangling legs, and began taking liberties—which was exactly what I wanted him to do.
    I had planned to cook supper, but after we got sidetracked for a while, we just called and had pizza delivered. Unlikely as it may sound, pizza is actually a romantic meal for us. We had it on our wedding night. A pizza parlor that delivered was the only place we could find open after we stopped for the night outside Hattiesburg on our way to New Orleans.
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    Larry Joe was already gone by the time I woke up on Wednesday. He and