“Your leftovers, sir, and here is the bill. No rush, please take your time.” The waiter set the take-out container and the small leather folio with the check on the table. “Everything was good?”

“Everything was amazing!” Lisa said.

“Absolutely,” I agreed. “We drive past here all the time. I can’t believe we didn’t notice the place until now!” I slipped my credit card in with the bill and handed it back to our server.

“But we’ll definitely be back!”

“Definitely,” I agreed. The waiter took the bill away and I looked around at the scattered groups of people among the empty tables. “Seems a lot of people haven’t discovered this place either.”

“It’s a weeknight,” Lisa pointed out. “I bet they’re hopping on the weekend.”

The waiter brought back the folio and I signed the credit card slip, adding a healthy tip and we stood to go.

“Please come back soon, our server said.”

“We will,” I said, holding the door for Lisa.

We parked across the street and down a bit, so we crossed the empty street and started down the sidewalk.

“Oh,” Lisa said, “I wonder if they have a takeout menu?”

“I’ll go check,” I turned and froze. “Lisa?”

“Yes?” She turned and gasped.

The lights of the restaurant were gone. In its place was a boarded up building with a red tag in front of the door. The big front windows were covered by plywood, but the telltale black smudge of smoke was visible in the streetlight.

Lisa looked at the cardboard box in her hand. “Guess takeout is out of the question…”