Darkness at the Edge of Town (Iris Ballard #2)(26)

“Okay, this is all…doable. But I don’t like the idea of you mixing with these people without backup,” he said.

“You sound like my mom.”

“Well, even a broken clock’s right twice a day,” he said. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Sorry. Did I mention she almost punched me a few days ago?”

“Well, now I’m here to act as a buffer. It’s me she’ll be pissed at from now on.” I rose from the chair. “I’ll be by later. Thanks for this. Really. It means so damn much to me you helping.”

“As if I could ever turn you down. I learned when I met you, saying no to you was an exercise in futility.”

“Damn straight. See you later, Sheriff Hancock.”

“Ms. Drew,” he said as I walked out. I smirked.

Okay, so maybe Memory Lane had a few beautiful spots along it. Sometimes you just had to look.





Chapter 6


Gia Cantone met my brother when she began working as a waitress at his favorite restaurant. It took him three months to work up the courage to ask her out. That was the full extent of what I knew about my brother’s ex-fiancée. They’d been dating for almost two years, gotten engaged, she’d even gotten pregnant, and I had never spoken to or met the woman. I couldn’t even remember what she looked like from the few pictures Mom emailed through the years. I was a shitty, shitty sister.

When I turned into her trailer park, I could practically smell the cat piss and Sudafed wafting on the breeze. The trailers were parked so close together neighbors didn’t need phones to talk to one another—hell, they wouldn’t even have needed to poke their heads out of the windows. Most of the trailers were nice; some even had lawn decorations and kids playing in sprinklers or riding bikes. The park was homey, save for the trailers tucked away from the group with blacked-out windows that were no doubt the source of the smell. A few bad apples spoiling the otherwise lovely neighborhood.

Gia’s trailer was smack dab in the middle of the park. I parked next to an ancient Corolla with a different-color passenger door. The two couples watching their kids run through a sprinkler eyed me as I climbed out of the car and walked up to Gia’s front door. I was not looking forward to the interview. I knew at some point I’d have to break the news about Billy’s marriage and baby to her, although I was looking even less forward to telling my mother. Mom never forgave me for not granting her the grand wedding she’d always dreamed of for me. The judge’s office was more our speed. Now Billy hadn’t even invited her to his. I could anticipate the temper tantrum already. Gia deserved to know first, though.



She opened the door on my second knock. Gia was very pretty, with olive skin, thick wavy black hair, a petite frame, and the kind of bee-stung lips women pay thousands for. She didn’t use them to smile, at least not at me. Instead she glared and shifted all her weight to one hip, almost in annoyance. I figured out within a millisecond she was not a member of the Iris Ballard fan club. I’d never met the woman and she was already pissed at me. I always seemed to have that effect on people.

“Gia?” I asked.

“Yeah. Come in,” she said curtly before returning inside.

The trailer was small, cramped, and dark, close to claustrophobic, but still homey. One of Grandma’s quilts rested on the couch and posters of cities in Europe were mixed with family photos. Judging from a group photo with easily two dozen people of all ages in it, Gia came from a large family. Most other photos were of her and Billy at parties or at the beach. Mom, Khairo, and his sons were in a few, and some included Grandma and Grandpa. I was in none, not even the ones from our childhood. That stung, but I refused to let Gia see my reaction.

My hostess walked into the kitchenette. “Want something to drink? I have water and…well, water. Tried to go to the grocery store, but he didn’t leave anything in our checking account and the credit cards were already maxed out, so…” She rolled her doe eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it.

“So, water or not?”



“I’m good. I’m fine. Thanks.”

She shut the fridge and frowned. “You two really don’t look alike at all, do you? You’re prettier in person too. I liked your Shelly Monroe interview. You were funny. Billy and the family never made it seem like you’d be funny.”

“What did they make me seem like?”

“Hard. Selfish. Stubborn.”

Another sting, but I hid it again. “I am those as well. Grandma used to say I was salty and Billy was sweet, but we were both delicious in our own ways.”

“I love your grandmother. She reminds me of my own nonna. She died a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it has been a shit year to end all shit years. Nonna died, I’ve lost two jobs due to cutbacks, had a miscarriage, then my fiancé runs off to join a fucking cult with all our cash. And next month I get to look forward to being evicted and moving in with my brother, his bitch wife, and their four kids.”

I frowned. “That…is a shit year to end all shit years. Although you’re handling it way better than I did when I had my shit year. Unless of course you’re on crack or something. That was the one thing I managed to avoid.”

“Can’t afford it,” she said with a shrug. “Though I may take my neighbor up on his free meth offer after you leave.”