Finn pocketed the card. “Thanks, Officer Martin.”
An hour later, the engine of a tow truck churned as it dragged the tree from the diner. One by one, the emergency vehicles drove off, leaving Finn and the staff to contemplate their next steps. They came together in a group hug.
“We’re all safe,” she told them. “That’s the most important thing. Once we clean up this mess, things will look a lot better.”
“She’s right,” Rowdy said. “So let’s get crackin’.” He disengaged from the huddle and meted out assignments. “Bean, grab a broom. Jimmy, you get the dustpan. Ciara, you bring the trash can over here so—”
“No, I think you should all go home. Get some rest, and we’ll talk about who does what tomorrow, okay?”
One by one, they agreed.
“I’ll go upstairs,” Ciara offered. “And make us—make us some tea. That always calms you down.”
“That’s a great idea.” Finn hugged her tight. “But don’t make mine just yet. I need to call our insurance agent.”
“You won’t be too long, will you?”
She checked her watch. “I hope not, but if I’m not there by ten, you go ahead and get into bed, okay?”
Ciara popped a noisy kiss to Finn’s cheek. “Okay. Love you, big sister!”
“Love you more!”
It was a game they’d played for years. Ciara had no way of knowing how much Finn meant every word.
When Ciara was gone, Rowdy asked, “What can I do for you, kiddo?”
“You can go home and put your feet up. Something tells me there will be plenty for you to do tomorrow.”
“No way I’m leaving you here alone with that gaping hole in the wall. Anyone with a mind to raid the cash box could just waltz right in and—”
Sam entered, as if summoned by a fairy godmother.
“Holy debris, Batman,” he said. “What happened in here?”
After Rowdy brought him up to speed, Sam got on his phone and, pacing, spoke quietly into the mouthpiece.
“Mark and the guys will be here in a few minutes,” he said, hanging up. “They’ll bring everything we need to close up this wall.”
Glass crunched under his boots as he paced, checking out the damage.
“We?”
Sam stopped walking and turned to face her. Finn blamed the events of the past hour—and not his caring expression—for her accelerated heartbeat.
“Of course we.” He gestured toward the gap. “Not even a superwoman like you can fix this all by yourself.”
“Superwoman, indeed,” she huffed. But he was right, of course, and rather than admit it, Finn said, “I’m surprised you heard the sirens over your blaring music.”
He grinned, and her heart thumped harder still.
“I’ll have you know,” Sam said, cocking an eyebrow, “we do not blare. We merely test the limits of the noise code. Things were slow tonight, and I heard the alert on my cell. Recognized the address and came right over.”
Finn was suddenly thirsty. Very thirsty. She went into the kitchen and fetched two bottles of water from the walk-in cooler. “So you’re still in the loop with the fire department?” she asked, handing one to him.
“Thanks.” He unscrewed the cap. “And yeah, I guess you could say that.”
She held out the second bottle to Rowdy, but he declined it. “Sounds like you’re pretty well set, here. If it’s okay, I think I’ll take you up on your offer to head home early.”
“Feel free to sleep in,” she told him. “There’s no point in going to the farmer’s market at the crack of dawn.”
The big man gave her a sideways hug. “Y’know, I might just do that...if I remember how to sleep past four!”
The place fell silent, save for the drip-drip-drip of rain plopping into the puddles just outside the broken window.
“I’ve seen a lot of destruction,” Sam said. “This looks way worse than it is. It’ll take some time, but you’ll be back in business before you know it.”
“And we’ll help,” Torry said, leading the parade of band members, each toting a four-by-eight-foot sheet of plywood.
“This stuff was left over from when we redid the bathrooms,” Mark said. “So don’t look at me like that. You’re doing us a favor, getting it out of the way.”
Regardless of where it came from, Finn intended to repay Mark for every last sheet. Mark and Sam, she corrected herself, since he was an owner now.
While the men hammered and sawed, boarding up the opening, Finn shoved aside stools, tables and benches and swept up glass and bits of metal and plastic that had held the big window in place. Already she could see that Sam had been right. It would take time and patience, but the diner would be good as new before long.
The Right Note had been providing for her since Pete had hired her at the tender age of fourteen. When he’d learned that the Learys were facing eviction, he’d given her a raise, more than enough to keep the wolf from the door while her parents spent the rent money on recording studios, drugs and alcohol. Two weeks after Ciara’s release from the hospital—and three days before Finn’s eighteenth birthday—Misty and Connor had left in the middle of the night. Gig in Chi-town, their note had said. Be good girls while we’re gone! Connor had signed Daddy, though neither she nor Ciara had used the term in years, and left two hundred dollars on the table. He hadn’t provided a phone number, address or the name of the club that had hired them. Two months later, when Pete found out what they’d done, he’d moved her and Ciara into the upstairs apartment. And when the Learys returned eight months after that, expecting to pick up where they’d left off, he’d made it clear they would not.
“Good ol’ Pete,” she muttered, remembering the tongue-lashing he’d given her folks.
“What’s that?” Sam asked.
“Oh, nothing.” She faked a grin. Stop looking so sympathetic, Sam Marshall, she thought, or I’ll lose it. Finn hated few things more than blubbering in front of people, strangers in particular.
What would Pete say if he were here? “Look for the silver lining, cupcake. There’s always a silver lining.” Her eyes misted with tears. Oh, how she missed him!
“Well, we’re done,” Torry said, rapping on the plywood wall. “That’ll hold ya until your insurance agent cuts you a check.”
“Thanks, guys. You’re all entitled to free meals just as soon as we’re open for business.”
Torry took her aside. “Are you crazy, offering this motley crew free
