Where It Ends

| 6 | Stung

"Here we are. The first stop on the heartbreak tour."

Taryn and I arrive at the main barn and step into the shade it provides. The heat and humidity are damn near oppressive today, and the slight relief is almost worthy of song.

Can't, though. Not without the guitar. Thoroughly checked and clue free, as far as we can tell without breaking it, we decided not to drag it along. I'd say there's too much walking and too much Quinn as it is.

"I can take your picture, if you like?" Taryn nudges me in the side with her elbow and then walks with confidence toward a crooked wood plank.

The barn is chained and padlocked. A few keys turned up in the house once we started digging around for them, but they're all accounted for, and this wasn't one of them.  

I stroll closer, peering at her in confusion. "Do I have to smile?"

We'll find a way in, but I'm not sure why she's going about it in this spot, specifically.

"It wouldn't be very heartbreak of you if you did," she turns her head to say, and in one swift tug, she has the wood plank in her hands.

She sets it aside, wipes her hands on her denim shorts, and goes in, slipping beyond my view.

I cock my head, trying to picture myself fitting through that hole. I'm not a hundred and ten pounds fully clothed and soaking wet. "How am I supposed to get in?"

There's a bang that startles me. The wood plank next to it falls just beside me.

I look at the hole and look at her, leaning there all smug. "You good now?"

"I'd call it solemnly satisfied." I take my hat off and just barely squeeze through. "I'm trying to stay on the topic of heartbreak. So, stop making a mockery of all this," I scold her in good fun. "Your sister's missing."

It is no laughing matter. Then again, I don't know how seriously to take this. It's not unlike Quinn to fall off the grid when things aren't going her way. It could be something as small as a grudge. On the other side of the coin, that guy at the café this morning rubbed me the wrong way. And the windshield incident doesn't sit right with me, either. Taryn may have brought her own problems to town, but Quinn's mistakes have a way of blowing everything else out of the water. In a way, there's already a connection. Quinn was the reason Taryn was on the road in the first place.

"You started it," she sasses back, but then she seems to take what I said about Quinn to heart. Her whole demeanor changes. "Do you really think she is?" She moves into the space right in front of me but slouches a few inches. Her gaze and long eyelashes both flutter to my hairline and have a longer way to travel.

"What?" I've lost all track of what we were talking about.

"Missing? Like, trapped or gone?" she clarifies, plucking a clump of cobwebs out of my hair.

She pats my shoulder with one hand, and with the flourish of her fingertips, she lets the cobwebs drop from the other. Then she whirls around and steps aside.

"I admit..." I put my hat back on, and shudder back to a reality that should be somewhere between drab and grim. After a nod of readiness, I start leading the way. "My mind jumped to those worst-case scenarios. But, after everything had a chance to settle in, I figure there's a whole lot of gray area, too. Maybe she's in a bad place emotionally and doesn't want the advice or judgment."

We take a few tentative steps forward. There's a downed wasp's nest on the floor and a clearly active one hanging from the rafters. Stinging insects were always a problem here, and now, after years of neglect, they're a potential disaster. I've already spotted about five other nests without really trying.