…And then clearly thinks better of it.

"Alright then. I'll leave you to it."

"Have a good night, Jimmy," she replies before shutting the door and walking over to the phone.

She picks up the handset and dials a number from memory.

"This is Harper.

"Yes, Hailey Harper. I'd like to make a dinner reservation for thirteen."

Once that's all confirmed, she hangs up and heads down to the basement, counting out thirteen of the gold coins into a small stack, then heads back up to the living room and looks up a glazier in the phone book while she waits, leaving a message asking to schedule a window replacement as soon as possible.

Before too long, a large van pulls up, and an older gentleman knocks on her door, backed by several burly-looking men, all carrying various forms of cleaning equipment.

She opens the door to let them all in. "Charlie."

He tips his hat as the other men enter. "Hailey."

The men get to work, moving bodies, cleaning floors, and clearing away damaged decorations. There's a lot to clean up, but there are a lot of them, and they work with practiced efficiency.

She watches over it all dispassionately.

She's tired as fuck, but she doesn't get to rest yet. 

Still work to do.

At least Charlie's men are as reliable as always. 

When they finish up, she drops the coins into his outstretched palm with a quick cli-cli-cli-clink of metal on metal.

Charlie nods to her again as he's paid, and then he and his men file back into the van, driving away into the night.