Chapter 9I'd noticed a tavern on Hannah Street earlier in the day, and since it was only a couple of blocks over from the B&B, we decided to walk. The mild storm had subsided, leaving the pleasant petrichor scent of fresh rain in its wake. Main Street Tavern was filling up for happy hour; most of the patrons were milling around the bar or seated at the tables closest to the bar. Phil and I moved to the far wall and took up residence in a booth. An empty stage and dance floor graced the furthest end of the room, but a sign on a stand notified the customers that the Coal Miner's Daughters would be rockin' the place to the ground at eight that evening. The strong smell of burgers, fries, and nachos permeated the air, causing my stomach to rumble loudly. A waitress wearing a too-tight T-shirt
