Darkness at the Edge of Town (Iris Ballard #2)(74)



“We know,” Grandma whispered before kissing my hair.

“I don’t know if I can save him,” I whispered. “I don’t. But I promise to fight for him…until I can’t.”

“We know,” Grandpa said.

“And even if you don’t, we know you tried your best. And we love you and are so proud of you. No matter what.”

I was lucky. I was so lucky to have them. To have family like them. To have friends like Hancock and Carol and Luke to help me. I should have learned from my two years in self-imposed exile. I’d always considered myself a lone wolf. Me against the world. I didn’t need anything or anyone. Other people were just icing on the cake, great but in the end unnecessary. But I was wrong. They were the flour. The sugar. The butter. They helped make me who I was. I wouldn’t be without them. Even Billy. And if that was true for me, then it was true for him. We were a part of each other. We needed each other. Because who wanted to live in a world without cake?





Chapter 12


As I sat in the reception area of the DEA’s Pittsburgh office, my leg would not stop twitching. This was a common sight in the waiting room of any law enforcement office, but mine was going wild not because I was about to face my unlawful mistakes. No, I was about to leap out of my skin because my mind wouldn’t let me stop running through scenarios about when I set eyes on Luke. Since our phone call, the only communication was a text saying he’d arrived at the office ten minutes before I did. I had no real reason to be nervous, I knew that, but I still didn’t know it. Our names—hell, our reputations—were tied together. Me acting an ass reflected badly on him. It could even ruin his career. He’d help me clear up the current madness and drive away, never to speak to me again until my next mess.

For the third time in fifteen minutes, I pulled out my compact to check my hair and makeup. I’d chosen my look very carefully, going for a professional yet feminine style with my pleated gray skirt, peach silk blouse, and white cardigan with soft makeup. They expected a dragon lady and I was giving them a librarian. I looked damn good. Pretty, even.

Judging from Luke’s expression and warm smile when he walked into reception with three other men, I think he agreed. My savior was no slouch himself. It was somehow always surprising how fucking gorgeous he was. Even after hours of driving, his golden-orange hair didn’t have a strand out of place besides the hint of cowlick he could never seem to tame, and there wasn’t a hint of stubble on his square jaw. He was more casual than usual in his jeans, white shirt, and black sports jacket, but he matched the other three men. The DEA had a looser dress code than the FBI, so the muscular fifty-something bald African American man with a goatee, thirty-something Latino, and sixty-something white-haired, trim white gentleman wore similar business-casual garb. Three of the four greeted me with a smile, but Mr. Goatee, who I assumed was Agent Carmichael, just kept his mouth set straight. In the moment, I didn’t give two shits what he thought about me. Luke practically glowed when our eyes locked. Mine may have too.



“Dr. Ballard, so sorry to keep you waiting,” White Hair said as they strode toward me. He held out his hand. “I’m ASAC Ted Echolls. It is a real honor to meet you, ma’am.”

I shook his hand. “You as well.” I nodded to Luke. “Agent Hudson.”

“Dr. Ballard,” Luke said with a light smirk.

I looked at Bachelor Number Two. “And you are?”

“Agent Ben Lucerno. A pleasure,” the Latino man said.

Then came the dour one. “And you must be the man whose toes I accidentally stepped on. A million apologies for any trouble I may have caused. Had I or Sheriff Hancock known we’d stumbled into an active investigation we would have ceased our own immediately. It was just a shame we didn’t know.” My tone, my words, and smile were all pleasant, but Carmichael’s mouth twitched. “But I’m sure you had your reasons.”

Luke cleared his throat. “Sorry. Shall we? I feel my caffeine rush waning already.”

“Yes,” Echolls said. “Right this way, Dr. Ballard.”



Most people think that elite law enforcement agents work in cutting-edge offices with banks of computers, televisions, and Google Glass everywhere. That sadly isn’t the case. Most have dull, ordinary offices with depressing cubicles and years-old computers. The Pittsburgh District Office was no different. Just a bunch of people talking on phones, typing reports, and chatting while drinking coffee. No one paid us any attention as we went to the small conference room with only a file and laptop inside. “Can I get you some coffee or water, Dr. Ballard?” Echolls asked.

“Goodness no. Any more caffeine today and I’ll be able to rocket home on my own steam,” I chuckled. “But thank you for the offer.”

Luke momentarily smirked. He knew my game right away. Kill them with kindness until it was time to pull out the knife and do it for real. I hoped it wouldn’t come to such drastic measures, but a good Girl Scout was prepared for any eventuality.

I took the seat nearest the door and Luke sat beside me, with the DEA contingent across the small, circular table. “And thank you for letting me sit in on this meeting, Ted,” Luke said.

“Yes, Agent Hudson told me you’re old friends with Stanton,” I said pleasantly.

“Yeah, we worked on one of the Medellín task forces a million years ago when we were young Turks like you two,” Echolls said. “We went on vacation together a few times too.”

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