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RHETT
The Pigsty is quietthe day after Thanksgiving. After all the families left, the rest of us got blitzed. The booze left me with a mild headache the next morning. I’m still up early so I can catch Hobo before he disappears back into the woods.
I talk him into going fishing. Back in the day, we used to take the club’s boat out on Thistle Lake near the Pigsty every week. Over the last few years, Hobo’s started showing up less often. If I want to see him, I need to go exploring around Turtle Creek. Once I show up, Hobo always seems happy. However, he never tracks me down or instigates time together.
Today, on the boat, Hobo stares at the gently rising water. Our silence is normal. We’re not chatty men.
Hiding under my McMurdo Valley Vikings’ ballcap and Wayfarer sunglasses, I think about Irina’s fearful eyes when I told her goodbye yesterday. She seemed to have a good time. Fiona slept for most of the party, which allowed Irina to meet everyone.
Our future feels within reach, yet she needed to return to her unsafe home.
“Are you still prowling around the old man’s estate?” I ask Hobo who throws out his fish line and settles into a seat.
“Sure. Nothing else to do. It’s gotten trickier since Marky died. More hired killers walking around the property, trying to look busy.”
“Do you see Jimbo around much? Like not him driving in and out, but walking around the estate?”
“Looking to grab him?” Hobo asks and strokes his blond beard. “I’ve got a couple ideas about how that’d work.”
Grinning at how he’s a sneaky motherfucker, I reply, “Been thinking about it, huh?”
“Oh, I’ve got plans on how to kill all of them. Never know when the club might need to wipe out its enemies. That’s why I ought to hang around the Halvorson land for a bit. Just to see how easy killing the men would be.”
“Let’s focus on Jimbo first.”
Hobo nods and explains, “He’s a restless fucker. Larry would be trickier to grab without drawing notice. He hangs out inside a lot since Marky died. Jimbo, though, is like an unloved dog. He’s always wandering the estate, especially around the guesthouse. Talks to himself, too. Heard him muttering how Fiona needs to die. He figures she’ll inherit everything. He doesn’t say anything about Irina, but I’ve caught him tailing her when she makes her walks to the main house.”
“Why is she walking anywhere?”
“They have a weird process. Instead of bringing the groceries and other supplies to the guesthouse, Irina must walk to the main house and organize what’s for her and Fiona. Then, the workers bring it over. I heard Todd order his new assistant to leave one of those fancy golf cart things at the guesthouse, so Irina and Fiona won’t need to walk.”
“Do you hear the old man saying anything about Irina and Fiona that I should know about?”
Hobo shrugs. “He figures his daughter isn’t so bad. He worried she’d be like her mom. I think after he was done using Fiona to torment Ashley, he planned to stick her in a facility. But now, he’s decided to keep her around.”
“Once I have a home for Irina, Fiona’s coming to live with us.”
“If you say so.”
Shrugging, I ask, “Back to Jimbo, how would you grab him without alerting security?”
“That’s the key, right? He’s got to go poof or else the old man will assume it was us.”
“He’ll probably assume it anyway.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t want war. Todd’s old and comfortable. I hear him talking about fucking up people in other places. But in McMurdo Valley, he wants quiet. Getting old didn’t take much out of him, but getting super fucking old seems to have zapped him of his fire.”
“I’ll need to get the green light from Ruin on killing Jimbo. He’s bound to worry about escalation while his woman’s vulnerable.”
