Page 22 of When You're Broken
CHAPTER TEN
Finn steered his red corvette along Putney’s side streets, the midday sun struggling to penetrate a thick cover of cloud overhead.The few cars parked on the roadside glimmered faintly in the dull light, and Finn noticed a peculiar hush in the air.He halted in front of a shuttered rundown bar with black and white sign above the door.
“This is it,” Amelia said, tucking her phone away.She sounded fatigued, though her posture remained rigid with determination.
Finn turned off the ignition, glimpsing the building facade: a long black awning with “Harlin’s” painted in faded gold script, shutters drawn over the front windows.As far as they were aware, it should have been open, but now it looked entirely closed for business.
“According to their online hours, Harlin’s bar should be open by now.”
Finn exhaled, noticing the tension in Amelia’s expression.“Well, let’s see if they closed shop for some random reason.Might be nothing.But given Wendell’s unpredictability…” He trailed off, letting the implication settle.
Amelia offered a tight nod, pressing the side of her temple as though staving off a headache.“Right.Let’s hope it’s a burst pipe or something.”
They stepped out of the car, the air cooler than Finn had expected.A faint drizzle threatened, tiny droplets speckling the pavement.The street was mostly quiet—this particular block housed a couple of independent shops, each with shuttered fronts as well, though that might be due to midweek slow business.In front of the bar, a short man in a rumpled jacket swayed on his feet, clearly under the influence of something.He eyed the locked door with undisguised frustration.
Finn moved closer, gently clearing his throat.“Excuse me.Do you know if Harlin’s is closed for the day?”
The man hiccuped, turning bleary eyes on Finn and Amelia.“S’closed all right.Been here half an hour.Damned foolishness.”His words slurred.“Never seen it shut midday.Harlin’s is always open early.That’s the point, innit?”He wavered, nearly losing balance.
Amelia stepped forward, offering a steadying hand.“So it’s unusual for them to close at this hour?”
The drunk man nodded vigorously, as though that motion alone might help him keep his footing."Harlin don't shut 'cept maybe Christmas.Today's not Christmas, is it?"He blinked in a half-stupor as though he might have forgotten something."No, not one I remember."
Finn exchanged a quick look with Amelia.If it’s truly never closed, that’s suspicious.He forced a polite smile for the man’s sake.“We appreciate the info.Sorry about your wasted trip.”
The man grumbled under his breath, turning to shuffle away.Amelia slipped her hands into her jacket pockets, stepping onto the bar’s doorstep.She tried the handle.Solid, locked, no give.She pressed her ear to the door, brow creasing.“No sound.Lights appear off inside, from what I can see through the shutter slats.”
Finn glanced around.“We could get a warrant, do it by the book.”His voice carried the dryness of someone who’d been scolded too many times for skirting procedure.
Amelia, however, tapped the door’s edge.“We might need to.But I wonder if…” She paused, letting her gaze trace the shutter’s seams.“The children's home was suspicious enough, but this feels off in the same way.I don’t know why.It feels like wherever we go, Wendell’s tainted the place.”
Finn tried the door one more time with a futile tug.“No sign of forced entry from the outside.The lock looks intact.”
A random whiff of the breeze carried the scent of diesel from a passing van.Amelia folded her arms, exhaling.“We can’t break in without cause.Unless…” She paused, flicking him a sideways glance.“Unless you hear that ‘muffled scream’ we’re occasionally so lucky to discover.”
Finn raised an eyebrow, letting a conspiratorial grin edge across his face.“Hark,” he said in a theatrical stage whisper, “I believe I do hear the faint echo of a muffled scream.Some maiden perhaps in need of being rescued by a dashing hero from across the seas.”
Amelia snorted softly, though her grin was fleeting."Don't overdo it… But maybe that's reason enough to investigate further."She jerked her head down the side alley."Let's see if there's a back entrance or window.Quietly.We don't want to break the door in front of this entire street."
Finn nodded, following her lead.They circled around the building, stepping onto a narrow lane cluttered with garbage bins and a sagging fence.The bar’s backside rose in old brick, a couple of small windows placed high up near the roof-line.A metal door with chipped paint and a rusted padlock met them on ground level—also locked tight.The entire structure looked as if it’d seen better days, with creeping ivy in corners and mortar crumbling around old drainage pipes.
“Spot any open windows?”Amelia asked, scanning the second story where a fire escape ended at a sealed door.
Finn pointed to one of the smaller windows about eight feet off the ground, barely wide enough to slip through if he angled sideways.The glass looked intact but potentially not latched from inside.“We might try that.If I can get a boost, I’ll see if it’s open.”
Amelia sized it up.“Sure you want to do the climbing?I can step on the bin and reach it.”
“Allow me to make up for last night’s argument by putting myself in jeopardy.”
She smirked, dropping to her haunches in front of him so he could rest one foot on her folded arms.“Here’s hoping your head doesn’t weigh as much as it looks and you topple over.”
“Harsh,” Finn muttered.Then he carefully stepped on her braced arms, letting her push him upward.The bin next to them provided minimal support.With a small grunt, he gripped the sill of the high window.Amelia steadied him from below.“I’ll be right back with a couple of pints,” he joked.
She snorted.“Make mine a shandy.”
He hoisted himself up.The window gave slightly under pressure—locked, but the old frame’s wood rotten at the edges.He wedged a small penknife from his pocket and jimmied it between the cracks.With a gentle push, the latch inside gave way.The window swung inward, releasing a stale smell of beer and something less pleasant.Wincing, he squeezed himself through the opening, ducking to keep from smashing his head.
Landing inside on a dusty crate, he paused to catch his breath.The room was dark—someone had cut the power, evidently—and the only illumination came from the small rectangle of sunlight behind him.He waited a second for his eyes to adjust, hearing only the faint hum of distant traffic.
