Darkness at the Edge of Town (Iris Ballard #2)(79)

“I’m not,” he said with a smirk I caught out of the corner of my eye.

“You’re right. You may be taking your life into your hands facing off against Faye.”

“Yeah, but hearing all sorts of embarrassing stories about little Iris Ballard seems worth the risk. I already made a reservation at The Grey Motor Lodge for the night.”

“Oh, God,” I groaned. “I hope you packed enough sanitizer to cover your whole body. Some of the pros who work out of there might be willing to slather you up.”

“It can’t be worse than that dump they put us up in on the Tripper case. I think the bedbugs had fleas there.”

We grinned at one another. God, he smelled good. Calvin Klein cologne mixed with his natural musk. I hadn’t seen him in weeks. I’d forgotten how his hair stuck up in one spot despite all the product in it. How vibrant his blue eyes could be when the sun was out. How just having him near lowers my anxiety and rage 10 percent. “Thank you.”



“Of course I came.” How we could finish each other’s thoughts. “And we’ll untangle this mess as best we can, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered with a smile.

He looked me square in the eyes and touched my hand. My whole body lit up. “We got this.”

And goddamned if I didn’t believe him.





Chapter 13


Joyce actually squealed when I told her I’d bring Luke to the barbeque. Squealed. Luke Hudson just had that effect on women ages sixteen to ninety-six. He followed me back to Grey Mills, and I deposited him at the motor lodge with a promise we’d pick him up in an hour. I briefly considered offering him my room at my grandparents’ or at Mom’s, but I knew he’d insist on taking the couch and if I could avoid Mom the rest of the trip, it would be smart all around. He told me he’d survive at the lodge for the night. If it were any longer, and I really couldn’t see that happening, we’d clear the other spare room of its massive clutter—a major undertaking, but we’d do it.

Grandma was putting the finishing touches on her potato salad when I came out of my bedroom, now 100 percent more comfortable in khaki shorts, a yellow tank top, a gray-and-white striped cotton blouse with one shoulder bared, and hair in a ponytail. “My my, don’t you look pretty,” she said. If I weren’t so exhausted, I might have even felt that way. I yawned for the eighty-seventh time that hour.

“Thank you. Who was on the phone earlier?” I asked.

Grandma’s mouth twitched. “Your…mother. Seems she ran into Joyce at the supermarket.”

I grimaced. “Oh, God. Don’t say it.”

“She and Khairo will meet us there. She’s bringing watermelon!”

I flopped onto the couch with a loud groan. “You’re shitting me. Seriously? As if this day could get any worse.”

“Your mother knew we were going and—”



“Guilt-tripped Joyce into an invite, no doubt.”

“She should be on her best behavior. Joyce told her about your horrible day at work, and although your mother is upset you haven’t called her today, she rarely misbehaves in public.”

I cringed again. I’d called Hancock, Joyce, Grandma, and even Carol on the ride back from Pittsburgh, but the thought of speaking to Mom had turned my stomach. “There was a reason I didn’t call her, Grandma. I figured any news would be better coming from you. After yesterday…She blew my cover. She put us both in danger. Not to mention all the shit she said to me before, which she didn’t apologize for.”

“She didn’t mean it.” That was my grandmother, the ultimate cheerleader even when the team sure as shit didn’t deserve it.

“And yet she said it,” I countered. “But I swear to Christ, if she says one negative word to Luke…”

“She won’t,” Grandma said. “She knows he’s here to help us.”

“So am I, Grandma, and it still didn’t stop her,” I pointed out.

Grandpa walked into the living room in a festive yellow Hawaiian shirt and jeans. “Two of my favorite ladies. Are you ready to party? Let’s get going. Don’t want to keep Smarty Pants’s admirers waiting. One in particular,” he said with a wink.

In that moment I wished I were back at The Apex or anywhere else on the planet. What happened with Shepherd in my house was going to be a picnic compared to an evening with Luke and my family; I could actually sense it. “Kill me now,” I muttered as I pulled my exhausted carcass off the couch.

My grandparents insisted on getting out of the car to greet Luke when we reached the motor lodge, which was really just a one-story green stucco roach motel where at least two prostitutes lazed by the pool in between dates. When I opened the car door I could actually smell the meth wafting in the breeze. “What’s that putrid stench? Cat urine?” Grandma asked.



“Nothing, Grandma.”

“You’re making him stay here?” Grandpa asked.

“I’m not making him anything. Where else can he stay? Mom’s? I can’t even stay there.”

We reached Luke’s motel room and knocked. He opened the door, all smiles. He hadn’t changed clothes but did untuck his shirt. That was as casual as he ever went. “Mr. and Mrs. Ballard. Hello! I—”