Darkness at the Edge of Town (Iris Ballard #2)(7)

They were the lucky ones.

I pulled into the driveway of my grandparents’ home and shut off the engine of my rented Ford Focus with a long sigh. Two days, I thought. Forty-eight hours. You can survive that long. You can. Not that I could change my mind about staying if I’d wanted to. My grandfather must have been watching through the window for my arrival because the moment I finished sighing, he walked out the front door. He was still spry for a man in his seventies. He’d been completely bald as long as I could remember, with a stark white goatee. He’d also always walked with a slight limp, the result of losing a foot in an accident at the mill way before I was born. It never slowed him down, not for a moment.

Let’s do this.

I climbed out of the car and was immediately treated to a bear hug from Grandpa. “Hello, Smarty Pants,” he said as the smell of sandalwood instantly made me feel at home.

I hugged him back just as tight. “Old man.”

He released me and looked me up and down. “You look good, Smarts. Real good. A shit sight better than when I last saw you. Finally got some meat back on those bones.”

I absolutely inherited my bluntness from my grandfather. “People keep taking me out to dinner. I’ve gained ten pounds.”



“You’re going to gain ten more staying here. Edie’s already made a whole plate of cookies and is working on lunch now. Chicken potpie for lunch, then ribs tonight.”

“She doesn’t have to do that,” I said.

“Of course she does. Our celebrity granddaughter’s home! Plus we’re your grandparents. It’s our job to spoil you.”

I walked to the trunk and retrieved my enormous suitcases. Five weeks on the road required a lot of clothes. Grandpa knew better than to offer his help. I’d been refusing it since I could talk. “Well, I insist on paying for groceries from here on out. It’s the least I can do for letting me stay here on such short notice.”

We started walking toward the ranch-style brick house. “Not going to say no, Smarts. It’ll be the first time we’ve had a millionaire sleeping in the spare room.”

“After taxes and Miranda’s cut, it’ll probably only come out to about half a mil. But CBNN seemed very interested in offering me a contract when we met early this morning. Investigation Mystery too.”

“Well, God knows you’ve earned it,” Grandpa said as we reached the front door. “I read what that rat bastard did to those women. To you.” He opened the door. The aroma of cookies and Pine-Sol assailed my nose. Another smell of home. “I’m glad you shot the fucker.”

I learned to swear from him too.

“Iris?” Grandma called from the kitchenette.

Edie Ballard stood in her domain, the red linoleum-floored kitchenette, with a wide smile on her beautiful face. Age had done precious little to wipe away her beauty. The former homecoming queen with huge brown eyes, petite yet pert figure, and cute nose remained just as gorgeous with silver hair and a few wrinkles. Mom inherited her beauty. Billy too. My brother was the prettiest guy in town. I, sadly, took after my sperm donor.



“Hi, Grandma!”

She was as quick as Grandpa. I barely blinked and found myself in her arms. “Oh, Petal. You’re here. You’re really here! Let me get a good look at you!” She released me. “Oh, you’re still too skinny!”

“I’m sure you’ll help me remedy that,” I said with a smile. “My mouth’s salivating from the smell of the cookies already.”

“You and that sweet tooth of yours,” she chided. “Lunch first. It’s almost ready.”

“You’re in your old room,” Grandpa said. “There’s time to freshen up, right, Edie?”

“Oh, yes. It won’t be ready for ten more minutes.”

“Good. Because I’ve had to pee since the train.”

I kissed Grandma’s cheek before grabbing my suitcases and wheeling them through the small living room into the hallway and down to the last door on the left. My old bedroom. It no longer resembled the sky-blue, book-covered space from my youth. Grandma had turned it into her craft room, with a pottery wheel in the corner and decoupage on the desk. There was barely room for the roll-out bed. I could endure the claustrophobic space for a few days. If not, there was always my mom’s offer of her spare room next door. For whatever reason it just didn’t feel right staying with her, probably because I barely knew my stepfather. Mom began seeing Khairo after I’d left town. I’d met him only five times before, but he never set off my creep radar and seemed nice enough. After the Meriwether attack, he even came to D.C. to help me move to North Carolina. I was stuck in a hospital for a month, so completing the move already in progress was the last thing on my mind. No, I knew Khairo was a good guy and Mom loved him. That was all that mattered.



I unpacked a few essentials and freshened up in the bathroom next door before returning to the living room just in time for our late lunch. We all sat at the circular dining room table among Grandma’s paintings of flowers and family photos as Grandma served the potpie. “Smells delicious, Grandma. Thanks.”

“It’s nothing fancy,” my grandmother, who was always modest, said. “Especially for our TV star granddaughter.”

“She met with people at CBNN today,” Grandpa said with pride.