“He’ll know you and me are friends,” Miah said, “so no need to pretend you’re after something shady.”
“Bribe him if you have to,” Vince agreed. “I’ll comp you out of the club’s account.” Meaning the many coffee cans full of cash Vince kept secreted around the auto garage—proceeds from his sideline as an unlicensed bookie and the sale of questionably acquired cars. “Ask Dancer if he’s ever done business with Ware, while you’re at it,” Vince added. “He’s been kicking around here for twelve years, probably, and I still got no clue what he does for money. But I wouldn’t be shocked if illegal weapons factored, here and there.”
“Fine, fine.” Casey glanced at his photocopy of the roster. “It’ll have to be an evening. I’ll try tonight, actually, if Miah can be with Abilene for a couple hours . . . ?”
Miah nodded. “Sure.” He sipped his coffee and glanced around the table. “Any other business?”
Everyone shook their heads, so he gave the peppermill another rap and stood. “Meeting’s adjourned. Thanks for coming so early, everybody. Stick around for the grub. And load the washer if you want my mom to stay sweet on you.”
“I got it,” Casey said.
Raina filled herself a plate, as did Vince and Kim. Duncan seemed content to eat nothing, sitting stock-still until Miah bade everyone a good day and disappeared.
Vince grinned at Duncan. “Now, that wasn’t so terrible, was it, Welch?”
“He promised to punch me once,” Duncan said. “Forgive me for finding it difficult to relax.”
“We’ve all wanted to punch you now and then,” Vince replied. “Take comfort in the fact that none of us actually has, so far.”
“Yes, how reassuring.”
“I’ve never wanted to punch you,” Kim offered.
“I have,” Casey said. “Real bad.”
“I’m the only one who’s actually managed it,” Raina added. “Though technically that was an elbow.”
“You also slapped me once.”
“And this from the woman you love,” Casey said.
Duncan rolled his eyes and pulled a stray newspaper over.
Vince ate fast and downed a cup of coffee. “Gotta head to the quarry.” He swung his legs over the long bench, kissed Kim good-bye, then said, “Case, walk me to my bike.”
Ah shit, what now? He set down his fork. Please not some serious-ass talk about Casey’s glaring absence around the old homestead. Not that he didn’t deserve it, after nine years away. He’d done better since he’d been back, but lately, between the bar and Abilene, he might as well still be in Lubbock for all the use he’d been to his brother. He felt a burning sensation along the back of his neck. Guilt.
Once they were outside, he asked, “This isn’t about Mom, is it? I can go back to watching her mornings when this is all over. Then Nita could take a couple nights, and you and Kim could—”
Vince waved his words aside. “Chill the fuck out. I know you’re busy.”
“What, then?”
They reached Vince’s old R80 and he pulled on his gloves. “Just wanted to say, good job.”
Casey blinked. “What with?”
“You know, everything. Watching Mom when you can. Kicking in for the bills. Taking the lead around here, for Abilene. You’ve been acting like a grown man for a change.” He smiled, the gesture’s snide quality taking some of the edge off all this brotherly earnestness. “You’re doin’ good, kid. Keep it up.” He gave Casey a hard slap on the arm, then mounted his bike.
“I’m thirty-three, you know,” Casey said. “Don’t act so shocked.”