Chapter Eight

Artie stormed off toward his house, with Bonnie close behind him.

Kate took a moment to steal a peek behind her. She could see that a heavy lock had been secured on the supply barn. Obviously that hadn’t been there before, or they couldn’t have opened the door, much less gone out of it. So why did Artie snap the lock on now? Was that a normal thing for him to do? Had he locked it because she had made a comment about all that seed?

Many questions troubled her as she hurried to catch up with Bonnie, following in Artie’s surprisingly brisk wake.

After walking around from the back door of the barn, they reached the drive and saw a large white van parked parallel with the front porch. It sat in what had once been a horseshoe-shaped drive but was now not much more than the suggestion of a drive with grass growing up between two gravel tracts. That seemed to Kate like an odd place to park. She couldn’t decide if it was a means of staking a claim—we belong here—or was simply a nice thing to do to keep from blocking Bonnie’s car from backing out.

Artie slowed as he approached the van. He seemed to relax a little. His irritation eased.

“Y’all didn’t say you were comin’ out again today. At least I don’t have it written down in my record book,” he said, sounding almost welcoming as he put his hand on the side mirror and peered in at the front seat. He scowled, then looked at Bonnie and Kate. “That’s funny. Ain’t nobody in there.”

Before Kate could ask if he knew who the van belonged to, the front door of Artie’s home creaked loudly and swung open.

“I’ll look around outside. If he’s not close by, we might—” The petite, dark-haired woman from the Country Diner stopped with her hand on the open door. She looked at Kate and Bonnie first, then at Artie. That’s when she broke into a wide smile. “Oh! There you are!”

“I was givin’ a tour of the barns.” He let his hand glide slowly down the length of the van’s large side mirror. His eyes, narrowed to not much more than slits, darted to the woman, then to the door she had just come out of, then to the van, then to his home again.

“We drove up, found the gate open, and honked. When you didn’t come out of the house, we decided to go in and see if everything was all right.” She came up to him and placed one hand on his back and hooked the other in the crook of his arm.

He seemed a bit surprised by the move but not upset.

Kate watched the unfolding scene with interest. The woman had on the kind of pants that used to be worn by carpenters and painters, with deep pockets and a loop on the side for a tool. Her loose shirt, worn over what looked like a long-sleeved thermal top, had a tropical print. She had her hair pulled back with a band, and peacock-feather earrings swayed gently as she turned to Bonnie and Kate.

“You ladies part of a larger group? Artie does love to show visitors around and talk birds with them.”

Kate puzzled a moment over the woman’s words, said in such a way that practically staked a claim on the man at her side—as though she belonged in this place, and Bonnie and Kate were just interlopers.

“No, not a group. Just a couple of curious bird-watchers.”

Something about the woman’s sudden appearance in the driveway and the fact that she’d gone into Artie’s home uninvited didn’t sit well with Kate.

Artie seemed to realize this was his cue to step in. “Uh, oh yeah. Where’s my manners? This here is Charlene Howell. Charlene, this is one of the local preachers’ wives and her friend.”

“Nice to meet you.” Charlene held out her hand to Bonnie first and greeted her warmly.

Artie turned to Kate and said, “I met Charlene and her husband online on a message board where I gave advice on takin’ care of parrots and other exotic birds. I guess you’d say we’re—”

“My husband and I are good friends of Artie’s.” Charlene offered her hand and a friendly smile to Kate.

“Yeah, that’s right. Charlene and Dud are my friends.” Artie nodded eagerly.

“So good to meet you, Charlene,” Kate said with sincerity as she took the woman’s hand. Her suspicion ebbed away. It was nice to meet someone who was a friend of Artie’s; he did seem so lonely. “We saw you yesterday in the Country Diner.”

“We’re over from South Carolina.” She hesitated a moment, almost as though she expected Kate or Bonnie to respond to that news and was bracing herself to support her claim.

“Hey, Charlene, baby, nobody’s inside. Maybe we should...” Charlene’s companion from the diner came out onto the porch with his thumb pointing toward the inside of the house. Kate smiled at his ill-fitting striped overalls—too baggy in the middle and too short at the legs, even with the straps let all the way out. He had an orange ball cap pushed back on his head, but this time he didn’t have on the sunglasses he had seemed attached to in the diner.

When he spotted the group, his face lit up. His sneakers scuffed along the porch as he approached them, his hand stuck out.

Kate couldn’t help noticing that his leathery, tanned fingers were scarred and marked. Some of the marks were long scratches, but most of them were triangular or crescent-shaped. They ranged in color from purple to pink to white, the thickness and color varying with the depth and age of each small wound, Kate assumed.

“I’m Dud Howell. Hello, ladies.” He shook Kate’s hand, then Bonnie’s, meeting their eyes as he asked, “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

“We saw them at the diner yesterday,” Charlene volunteered without hesitation.

“That’s it. You were the ones askin’ about the birds.”

“That’s right,” Kate said. “Bonnie here is an avid bird-watcher, and we’d been out all day looking around and taking notes.”

Bonnie smiled and added, “I’m particularly interested in catching a glimpse of the umber-throated mountain sparrow.”

Dud nodded. “We came to town to try to catch sight of the migrating umbies ourselves. We’ve known Artie for a while now, so it just seemed natural we’d come for a visit while we’re in the area.” Dud put his arm around Artie’s shoulders, standing on the opposite side of Charlene. Kate thought again that they looked as though they were making it clear whom Artie belonged to.

“Oh? You’re staying with Mr. Best?” Kate looked from Dud to Charlene.

“Oh no! We’d never impose like that,” Charlene rushed to say. “We’ve just come by to spend some time with him in person, while we can.”

Bonnie took a step forward. “Well, I’m so happy we’ve run into y’all. Seeing as how you’re all birders like me, I couldn’t think of a better group of people to chat with about my observations.” Bonnie held her arms open in a friendly, inclusive gesture.

“Chat?” Artie didn’t actually recoil, but he did step back and frown as he echoed Bonnie’s term.

“Observations? About what you were talking about in the diner?” Charlene lowered her voice as she spoke, as if she were discussing something exciting but secretive. “About how few birds you’ve been seeing in the area?”

“Birds? In what area?” Artie’s frown deepened to a scowl.

Kate stepped in. “We haven’t been to the library yet to get a more detailed map, but we used Bonnie’s birding journal to try to piece together a pattern,” Kate looked to Bonnie, who quickly pulled the page from her journal. Kate showed it to Artie. “Every X represents around ten bird sightings. As you can see, the closer we get to your property—”

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. With all due respect, the closer you get to my property, the less business any of this is of yours,” Artie said solemnly as he handed the map back to Kate without even looking it over. “Don’t aim to be rude; I just don’t have any intention of gettin’ involved with any of this Sparrowpalooza nonsense. Thank you for comin’ today.”

He gave them a nod and started toward the house.

Kate and Bonnie looked at each other.

Dud called after Artie, nodded his good-byes to the ladies, then caught up with the smaller, older man.

Charlene, left alone with Kate and Bonnie, tried to offer an explanation. “I guess that’s what comes of livin’ out here all alone for so long. Charm and cooperation aren’t things you have to put into practice much.” She shrugged a bit apologetically. “I wouldn’t mind getting a look at that map of yours, though.”

Bonnie offered it to her.

Charlene took the map and leaned against her van, studying the paper intently. A few minutes passed before she tapped the paper with one finger and asked, “So, you two have been all over these marked areas?”

“Hit and miss,” Bonnie said. “Just taking samplings, listening, watching—you know how it goes.”

“Um, yeah. Yes, of course I do. Bird-watching...it’s what we do, right?” Charlene gave a light laugh, then handed the map back to Bonnie. “So, you plan on being around these parts a lot this next week?”

“I will. But I can’t speak for Kate.” Bonnie looked over her shoulder.

Kate glanced at the house, then at the barns, then watched as Bonnie folded up the map. “Well, I’m not really a fellow bird-watcher, but I have a feeling I’m not done looking around the area. If there’s something going on with the birds out here, I definitely want to help Bonnie figure that out.”