Zeke and Mason looked at Jimmy who swayed again and headed to the couch. “You heard her.”
They glanced at Quinn with clear distrust in their expressions, and left the house.
Caroline was about to follow Jimmy when she changed her mind and walked to Karen instead.
“I’m sorry. I tried my best to keep him sober, but….” She looked this close to wringing her hands theatrically. Her little black dress was showing her ample curves in a way not completely suitable for a funeral, but Quinn didn’t give a fuck.
“Get him water and Gatorade from the fridge.” Karen gave Caroline a once over, then huffed. “And at the cemetery, try not to take all attention from my husband’s coffin.”
Caroline jerked as if she’d been slapped, and quickly went to get the drinks to sober up Jimmy.
* * * *
Within an hour, the priest was there, as were several members of the MacGregor family or clan or whatever you chose to call it. Ian’s organization. The one that would be Jimmy’s as soon as Ian was in the ground, unless someone challenged Jimmy.
Nobody was going to, although some of the old school guys, ones that had been part of Robert’s crew and were still in the family business but more on the sidelines, tried to make small talk with Quinn. He always bowed out fast, pretending to need to make sure this or that was ready for after the graveside service.
He didn’t have it in him to act as if he was proud of Robert, when he hated the man’s guts.
Jimmy sobered up slowly but surely, and by the time the caterer from town arrived to make sure everything would be ready for when they came back from the cemetery, he looked almost sharp eyed once more.
Quinn realized he was doing Jimmy’s job; taking care of Karen and making sure she was fine, greeting guests and talking with the caterer when Karen went to powder her nose—or probably to have a good cry somewhere.
To think that they would have been in this situation within months at the latest, and Jimmy would’ve been the one comforting his mother if he just hadn’t become so fucking anxious to seal whatever deal it was he had with the Burned Skulls. If he hadn’t shot his father.
It was the elephant in the room, and Quinn, for all he hadn’t been around his cousin for a decade, could tell that it grated on Jimmy. Not that he’d killed Ian, no. It was more about how everyone who had respected and even loved Ian was carefully not making eye contact with him. They were ignoring Jimmy, and Quinn silently pitied and hated him in equal measures.
* * * *
The service itself was exactly what Quinn had expected, and not. Half of the town was there, because while the MacGregors had brought crime and fear into Spruce Creek, Ian had been fair and liked. He’d kept them safe from outsiders, from the unknown, and small-town people appreciated that and wanted to pay their respects.
The words the priest spoke were humorous, less about God and sin and more about Ian growing up in Spruce Creek and his family and friends. Quinn was pretty damn sure Karen had had words with the priest or Ian had talked to the man beforehand. A less lenient man of God wouldn’t have been welcomed to this particular graveside, for sure.
Quinn watched the people gathered around. There were misty eyes, a few were crying openly and not just Karen. And then there was Jimmy, who stood there, stoic and mostly sober, staring at the coffin as it was lowered into the ground. Then he turned to Caroline and said something, his expression remaining the same.
The gathering at the house was surprisingly joyous. People seemed intent to not be sad, and maybe that had been Ian’s wishes, too. They told stories of Ian and how he’d helped people, or the mischief he’d gotten into as a youth.
Around three, Jimmy and Caroline bowed out. Quinn was outside, saying bye to some of the guests when Jimmy stopped by his elbow.
“Come see me at the warehouse tonight.”
“Across from the junkyard?”
“Yeah,” Jimmy said, not even surprised Quinn knew exactly where his base of operations was located. “Seven okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”
Jimmy clapped his shoulder once and walked to his car where Caroline was already waiting.
Shit.
He glanced around and then dug out his phone, hoping not to seem disrespectful as he quickly typed a message to the group.
Q: I have to go see Jimmy tonight at seven. He’ll come looking if I’m not there. I’ll be careful, I promise. See you at seven thirty. Stay safe.
His phone buzzed a couple of times in his pocket as he went inside to mingle some more. He hoped to fucking God or whomever was listening that this wasn’t Jimmy’s way to take him out, because he wasn’t ready to go, but he would if it meant keeping Aaron, Charlie, and Lennox safe.
* * * *
