Quinn fixed himself breakfast, gave some of his lunch meat to the cat who had slept next to his pillow all night, and then let her out.
He briefly wondered if he should leave a window open for her, but if she had many other homes she probably had somewhere else she wanted to be, and he had too many weapons inside to feel safe with the idea. Not that closed windows and locks would deter anyone wanting to get to his stuff, but still.
Since his only real agenda today was to go to the diner for whatever reason, he had some time on his hands. He ended up sitting on his couch and going through every possible police report of the area from the last year or so he could get his hands on.
There was a lot of stuff if you knew where to look. He hadn’t had time to do much of the research before he got into town, but he realized he really needed to figure out how things seemed to be running without asking anyone in town.
In the next couple of hours, he scoured through information. It hadn’t changed much, really, from what he’d figured out happened in the “family business” when he was a teenager. Mostly, it was drugs. The MacGregors manufactured and distributed meth in several places and they had a bit of a reach, some to Las Vegas, too.
The thing was, they weren’t big operators, and one key point Robert has always made was to be careful not to step on any toes when it came to the Vegas drug scene. Quinn’s dad had been a bastard, but he’d also known his limits. Ian did too. The fact that they could fly under the radar was partially because they didn’t do too much. They just ran a working little empire and that was it.
However, Quinn knew what Jimmy was like, and so did Karen and Ian.
Jimmy’s problem was never being satisfied with anything. He always wanted more. If Jimmy took over the MacGregor business, it would mean changes. It would mean bruised toes and it would mean fish too big landing in their small-town pond to get rid of the natives.
Quinn rubbed his face and sighed. There was another possibility he had to take into account here. If Jimmy had wised up, which he well may have, he might find a bigger operator on their side of Nevada and join forces. And these days, that meant human trafficking.
Spruce Creek was perfect for human trafficking. There were plenty of remote areas and several ways out of town. If Jimmy wanted to expand into that direction, well, the whole MacGregor clan would be fucked. Homeland Security was well aware of Nevada being one of the biggest human trafficking states and bringing that sort of attention to Spruce Creek would fuck things up for everyone.
Quinn heard a car roll to his front yard and cleared his browser history with a press of a button. He closed the laptop and went to the door.
If he tilted his head just right, he could see through the curtain in the window.
Well, this certainly wasn’t a surprise. He opened the door and grinned at the man getting out of one of the MacGregor SUVs.
“Where have you been hiding?” Quinn asked, unable to stop smiling.
“It’s these old bones, can’t move as fast as before,” Arthur Jenks, his dad’s former enforcer said, making a show of approaching slowly and leaning heavily into his cane.
He wasn’t trying to fool Quinn, nor could he have. Arthur was most likely armed to the teeth just like Quinn would be as soon as he left his trailer.
They embraced each other quickly, and Arthur held onto his shoulder to look at him properly.
“You grew up good, kid.”
“Thanks. You don’t look bad yourself, Uncle Arthur,” Quinn said, and the slight tension around Arthur’s eyes relaxed.
“You have coffee in this castle of yours?”
Quinn scoffed. “I’m a MacGregor, aren’t I?”
Soon enough, they sat at the table, the laptop set aside, and sipped at their coffees.
“Do you ever visit him?” Quinn blurted out, then internally cursed himself.
“No. I tried for a couple of years, but he doesn’t want anyone to come. He won’t reply to letters, either.” Arthur tapped his fingers on the side of the mug as he gathered his words. “The only one I think he’s replied to was the divorce papers your mother sent him.”
Quinn didn’t jump into conclusions. He could’ve taken the statement as an accusation toward his mother but he didn’t. Instead, he hummed.
“She had no choice. She needed to have her freedom and her maiden name back.”
Arthur nodded. “Right. You didn’t change yours, though.”
Quinn chuckled a bit bitterly. “I have quite a few names by now, Uncle Arthur, and MacGregor isn’t the most useful one of them.”
Arthur’s gaze got sharp then, a bit worried, before he relaxed again. “I see.”
“I know you’ve heard the rumors and I would say eighty-five percent is true.”
