Finan pokes his head into my office just after five. “If you keep pinching your brow like that, it’s gonna be permanent.”
“That’s what Botox is for,” I say, hurrying to switch the screen before he walks all the way in. “What’s up?”
Humboldt stands, stretches, and happily greets his buddy.
Finan scrubs the dog’s huge head, looks at the boxy watch on his wrist, and then saunters into the room. “Quitting time? You hungry?”
I push my keyboard back as Finan sinks into my couch. “Yes, since I fed Humboldt my sandwich. What joy did your day bring?”
“Working on the demolition at farm B. The new construction is set to begin next week.”
“Already?”
“These insurance guys don’t mess around.” He leans forward, still petting Humboldt, and lowers his voice. “With the arson confirmed, they paid out
