Late morning on a Wednesday, she figured the chances were good of someone being home. She rang the bell with reluctance, not wanting to disturb Luanne if she was napping.
Again, no one came.
Since yesterday’s visit to the cemetery, Audra felt a renewed desire for closure in any area possible. There were only two days left until the start of summer break. Then Jack would be home full-time, limiting her opportunities to tie up loose ends. She had hoped to catch Luanne as much as Sean, still wanting to apologize for pestering the dear woman.
Audra scanned the property. Except for her own car, there were no vehicles around, though they could be parked in the garage. She retained hope based on the unlocked gate and chickens roaming the grounds.
Then a noise caught her ear—a thump—from the direction of the barn.
She treaded past the large apple tree by the weathered fence, where the goat and donkeys were grazing in the sun. They bleated and brayed a few notes of contentment.
Once at the barn’s entrance, she found its sliding door partially opened. As she proceeded inside, a square object flew through the air and hit the wall of an animal’s stall. It looked to be a chunk of hay, pitched from the loft above.
“Hello?” she called up.
The room was scented with straw and feed and the animals it kept.
“Sean?” she hollered.
All sounds of movement ceased.
It suddenly occurred to her that Luanne could have hired a helper, but then Sean stepped up to the edge. Protected by work gloves, he gripped the long handle of a pitchfork. Patches of sweat darkened his gray T-shirt, untucked from his jeans. He pulled out his right earphone, releasing the wire connected to an MP3 player.
“What are you doing here?” he said.
“I’ve been ... trying to reach you.”
He shifted his eyes away from her. “Sorry,” he said. “Been pretty busy.”
She ignored his stock excuse. “Sean, could I talk to you?”
He used a forearm to wipe the dampness from his hairline. Dust and dirt smudged his unshaven face. “I really gotta get some stuff done.”
“You can’t take a short break?” she said, trying to determine whether his aloofness was specifically directed at her.
“Carl should be here soon. He’s a friend of Aunt Lu’s. Supposed to help me put in some fence posts. So some other time, okay?”
Audra conceded with a nod, the exchange just as labored as their drive from the gallery. She could push harder, but her energy was running on reserve.
“Is Luanne around by any chance?” A chat with his great-aunt could still make the trip here worthwhile.
“Nah. She went to meet some people. Her knitting group, I think.”
So much for that idea.
“All right, then.” Audra shrugged. “I’ll stop by another day.”
“Great.”
If his tone alone hadn’t make it abundantly clear that her company was unwelcome, his next act did. She didn’t so much as say good-bye and already he had returned to his work, no longer in view.
This was her cue to leave, but she couldn’t. His shift in personality too closely resembled that of her son.
She wasn’t willing to walk out of here without at least trying for an explanation. From what little she knew of him, this wasn’t Sean.
Audra made her way up the ladder. Before she stepped off, he glanced toward her, less than thrilled. His earphone still dangled down his chest, confirming he could hear her.
In an attempt to alleviate the tension, she scrunched her nose. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not the kind who gives up very easily.”
He let out a sigh, almost a huff. “I noticed.” He dropped the pitchfork onto the floor, cushioned by stray leafs of hay. Down on one knee, he snagged a pocketknife from his jeans and cut twine from a bale with a sharp yank.
“Sean, if it’s about me talking to Luanne at the gallery—”
“That’s not it.”
One possibility eliminated.
She slid her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “To be fair, I should probably mention that I’m really good at playing Twenty Questions.”
He cut another piece of twine. “It just isn’t a good day, all right?”
A shallow laugh slipped from Audra’s mouth, not at him but at the mere suggestion. “Well, lately the occurrence of good days in my life is pretty unpredictable. So I’ve learned not to wait around for them.”
He paused for a while, as if he might confide in her. But then he went to work on loosening square blocks of hay. Audra walked over and sat on the bale closest to him, determined to root out the issue. Something had happened on First Thursday; if it didn’t involve her, it was somebody else.