Red-winged blackbirds and goldfinches picked their way between the tops of vegetation and tree branches.
Round, silvery metallic buildings dotted the landscape like shiny buttons on a camouflaged uniform. Brick ramblers not far from the traffic of the road were flanked with lilacs and peonies. Old farmhouses and red barns were set farther back down drives lined with tractors and combines.
“Where are we going?” Tens asked.
Nelli sighed. “An old converted milk factory in Lebanon.”
What? Where?
“Lebanon? How are we supposed to get to Lebanon?” I asked.
“It’s a rural town northeast of here. We’re not talking about the country.” Nelli twisted her lips and smiled.
I had begun to tumble onto the fact that a person could travel the entire world and never leave Indiana: Paris, Moscow, Peru, Brazil, Edinburgh, and now Lebanon.
Is it any wonder I get confused?
Nelli chewed on her lip. “I’ve thought about this a lot. I need to run something past you.”
“What?” I waited.
“I’ve been assigned an intern, who started volunteering after DG hit the news. He’s a foster kid himself who’s going to Butler University.”
“Okay …?”
Where is she going with this?
“He’s a really nice kid, very earnest. I think he would be good for Juliet. Give her someone to talk to.”
“You mean set her up with him?” Tens asked.
Nelli shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. At least put them together to see if they hit it off? Maybe I’m wrong,but I think he’d understand where she’s coming from. Maybe get through to her, where we can’t?”
“I don’t know that she needs a boyfriend, but she could definitely use a friend,” I said.
“Have you told him anything?” Tens asked.
“About her being a Fenestra? No, of course not. He’s very kind. Last week, he made me pull over to rescue roadkill.”
“Did it live?”
“We were too late, but he took it home to bury it properly. He says he wants to change the world by using computers to improve the poverty divide. I think he will. He’s very focused on technology and he’s a wiz. I thought I’d ask him to help with the investigations—the organizing, getting all the information uploaded into a database we can reference, doing the legwork, nothing dangerous to you. Then he and Juliet can spend time together. No pressure. That’s where we’re headed.” Nelli pointed out the window, toward a tall brick smokestack towering far above the buildings around it. Cracks ran down the stack, making it appear as if the decrepit brick might topple at any moment. Painted down the side, emphasized by large cracks, was the word
MILK
.
Interesting. Kinda creepy, kinda hick
.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Tens asked.
Railroad tracks and crossing signs cut the earth and roads. Buildings clustered together in what served as suburban sprawl around lesser cities and towns in the country.
“That’s where we’re going. Not into downtown.” Nelli pointed. “It’s an odd and rare collectibles store now with a seasonal theater troupe. It used to be a milk production and distribution plant.”
My heart sped up as we neared. “Where’d they …”
“Find the remains?”
“Yeah.”
Please help us send you home
.
“Bales says the owners of the building are expanding the theater sections and were going to refloor the dressing rooms. There were stones out of place. Crews noticed a bone fragment. When they lifted a tile, there was more. This is a skeleton, not a person.”
“Do they know when it was placed there?” Tens asked.
“Based on the clothing, they’re thinking the remains were buried there in the early seventies. It’ll take time to pinpoint completely. I haven’t seen anything yet either.”
Puzzled, I asked, “How did it take so long to find?”
“The building was abandoned for years, and even when it was used, not all the cubbied offices and storage spaces were occupied.” She shrugged, her expression clouded. “There are
Round, silvery metallic buildings dotted the landscape like shiny buttons on a camouflaged uniform. Brick ramblers not far from the traffic of the road were flanked with lilacs and peonies. Old farmhouses and red barns were set farther back down drives lined with tractors and combines.
“Where are we going?” Tens asked.
Nelli sighed. “An old converted milk factory in Lebanon.”
What? Where?
“Lebanon? How are we supposed to get to Lebanon?” I asked.
“It’s a rural town northeast of here. We’re not talking about the country.” Nelli twisted her lips and smiled.
I had begun to tumble onto the fact that a person could travel the entire world and never leave Indiana: Paris, Moscow, Peru, Brazil, Edinburgh, and now Lebanon.
Is it any wonder I get confused?
Nelli chewed on her lip. “I’ve thought about this a lot. I need to run something past you.”
“What?” I waited.
“I’ve been assigned an intern, who started volunteering after DG hit the news. He’s a foster kid himself who’s going to Butler University.”
“Okay …?”
Where is she going with this?
“He’s a really nice kid, very earnest. I think he would be good for Juliet. Give her someone to talk to.”
“You mean set her up with him?” Tens asked.
Nelli shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. At least put them together to see if they hit it off? Maybe I’m wrong,but I think he’d understand where she’s coming from. Maybe get through to her, where we can’t?”
“I don’t know that she needs a boyfriend, but she could definitely use a friend,” I said.
“Have you told him anything?” Tens asked.
“About her being a Fenestra? No, of course not. He’s very kind. Last week, he made me pull over to rescue roadkill.”
“Did it live?”
“We were too late, but he took it home to bury it properly. He says he wants to change the world by using computers to improve the poverty divide. I think he will. He’s very focused on technology and he’s a wiz. I thought I’d ask him to help with the investigations—the organizing, getting all the information uploaded into a database we can reference, doing the legwork, nothing dangerous to you. Then he and Juliet can spend time together. No pressure. That’s where we’re headed.” Nelli pointed out the window, toward a tall brick smokestack towering far above the buildings around it. Cracks ran down the stack, making it appear as if the decrepit brick might topple at any moment. Painted down the side, emphasized by large cracks, was the word
MILK
.
Interesting. Kinda creepy, kinda hick
.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Tens asked.
Railroad tracks and crossing signs cut the earth and roads. Buildings clustered together in what served as suburban sprawl around lesser cities and towns in the country.
“That’s where we’re going. Not into downtown.” Nelli pointed. “It’s an odd and rare collectibles store now with a seasonal theater troupe. It used to be a milk production and distribution plant.”
My heart sped up as we neared. “Where’d they …”
“Find the remains?”
“Yeah.”
Please help us send you home
.
“Bales says the owners of the building are expanding the theater sections and were going to refloor the dressing rooms. There were stones out of place. Crews noticed a bone fragment. When they lifted a tile, there was more. This is a skeleton, not a person.”
“Do they know when it was placed there?” Tens asked.
“Based on the clothing, they’re thinking the remains were buried there in the early seventies. It’ll take time to pinpoint completely. I haven’t seen anything yet either.”
Puzzled, I asked, “How did it take so long to find?”
“The building was abandoned for years, and even when it was used, not all the cubbied offices and storage spaces were occupied.” She shrugged, her expression clouded. “There are
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