9
BR A E D Y N
PULLING into the half-full parking lot, I took in the recreation area. Yeti let out a happy bark as she did the same.
“Playground. Sweet,” Owen muttered.
We were on day eight in Starlight Grove and slowly adjusting to our new home, even if I’d had to find a noise app that played city sounds to fall asleep. Work had been surprisingly…fun. Aidan was a hoot, Cora was someone I could see myself becoming real friends with, Wylder was a kind boss, and Fiona kept us all in line. I hadn’t seen much of my hot, unhinged neighbor and didn’t want to look too closely at my disappointment at that fact.
Owen’s camp experience had been positive overall. Even with a couple of kids who sounded like bullies, he was making friends. Yeti wasthrilled with her new surroundings and
primed for adventure.
And me? I was…hopeful.
For the first time in a while, I was excited for what might happen now that I had access to the area where Nova had disappeared. And today was a big part of that.
Compass was a national organization that formed local support groups for people with missing loved ones. It was a way to access resources but also emotional support. And Juniper County had its own chapter.
I rubbed my palms over my jeans, trying to clear away the dampness. I’d been super involved with the Bay Area chapter of Compass, but new people meant opening myself up all over again and sharing some of the most painful moments of my life with strangers.
But they wouldn’t stay strangers. With time and vulnerability, they’d become community. At least, I hoped.
I took a moment to stare down at the pink, purple, and teal threads woven into the friendship bracelet Nova had lived up to every day I’d known her. Now, I had to do the same.
Rolling my shoulders back, I turned off the engine and slid out of my SUV. I opened the back door and gave Yeti a soft command to stay at my side. She did but quivered as Owen bounded out after her.
“I wanna swing and then do the monkey bars,” Owen said, practically bouncing.
My mouth curved, loving every moment he still felt like my little boy instead of an almost preteen. “What are the
rules?”
“Bruh, I know the rules.”
“Then it’ll be easy for you to tell me,bruh.”
Owen smiled, even if slightly grudgingly. “Stay in sight of you at all times. If I want to go anywhere but the playground, I have to ask. Don’t talk to adults I don’t know unless you’re there.” His lips twitched. “And I bet you don’t even want me to take candy from strangers.”
I drilled a finger into his side. “Could be losing candy privileges altogether with that smarty-pants response.”
He laughed, trying to dodge my tickles. “Fine, fine! I’ll
play by all the rules. Can I go?”
“Fly free, my son.”
With a roll of his eyes, Owen took off for the swings. Yeti pranced next to me as if askingCan I go? Please?
I dropped a hand to give her floofy head a scratch. “Sorry, girl, you gotta stay with me.” I clipped on her leash, which
she stared at indignantly. “Sorry about that, too, but rules are rules,” I said, pointing to a park sign.
Sliding my Bigfoot tote bag over my shoulder, I took in the group assembling in the pavilion between the playground and what looked like a soccer field. Someone had hung a sign withCOMPASS in big, printed letters. Why did this feel like the first day of school?
I took a deep breath and started toward the pavilion.
There were about ten or so people in a wide range of ages and appearances. Even a few kids ran around. At least Owen wouldn’t be alone in coming along. I just had to be careful with what he overheard.
As I approached, a woman who looked to be in her mid- thirties with blond hair caught sight of me. A warm smile tipped her lips as she crossed in my direction. “Are you here for the Compass meeting?”
I swallowed, my tongue suddenly feeling heavy in my mouth. “Yes. I’m Brae.”
“Oh, Brae! I’m Holly.” The woman was already moving in for a hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. And this must be Yeti. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Clive?” I asked with a relieved laugh. The head of the Bay Area chapter of Compass had said he was going to reach out to the woman who headed up this chapter. Apparently, he’d given her a complete rundown.
Holly beamed. “He’s your biggest fan. Where’s your son?
You’re always welcome to bring him, too.”
I inclined my head toward the playground. “He’s here and ready for play duty.”
Holly nodded knowingly. “Always good to have an activity.”
“Always,” I agreed.
“Come on.” She waved me toward the pavilion. “I’ll introduce you and Yeti around.”
The picnic tables had an array of sandwiches, cookies, and drinks, along with other snacks. Some people had brought camp chairs to set up, while others opted for the
picnic benches. Curious gazes lifted to me as we approached.
“Everyone, this is Brae. She moved here from the Bay Area, where she was involved in Compass. And this is her dog, Yeti, who also happens to be trained in search and rescue,” Holly said, that same bright smile on her face.
A series of greetings reached me, and a few people pushed to their feet, crossing in my direction. A man in his mid-forties with a hint of gray at his temples extended a
hand. “Welcome. I’m Jack.”
“Nice to meet you, Jack.”
“Search dog, huh?”
I nodded. “Trained in trailing searches and HRD.”
His brows lifted. “HRD?”
I glanced around in deference to any little ears, but the couple of kids I’d seen had run off toward the playground.
“Human remains detection.”
“Whoa,” Jack muttered, assessing Yeti with new eyes.
“Hi, Brae. I’m Alma,” a woman in her sixties greeted, lines deepening in her tanned skin as she smiled. “And those three little ragamuffins are my grandchildren.”
“That little troublemaker is my son,” I said, pointing out Owen on the swings. “Lovely to meet you.”
As people got settled, a new face appeared. She looked about my age, with the palest blue eyes I’d ever seen. Her light-blond hair was pulled into a loose braid that hung down her back, and the requisite cowboy boots peeked out from beneath her jeans.
She extended a hand to shake. “Hi. I’m Aster.”
“Nice to meet you. Brae.”
She had the kind of smile that instantly put you at ease.
“I’m the resident therapist. I help provide additional support if needed.”
Suddenly, more pieces clicked into place. The waiting until I’d gotten my bearings for an introduction. The welcoming smile.
It wasn’t out of the norm for a therapist to help out at the Compass meetings. When a loved one vanished, plenty of trauma came on its heels, and big feelings could come up as
you processed.
“Nice to meet you.”
“You, too. If you need anything at all, just let me know.
Even if it’s only a recommendation for where to find the best cup of coffee.”
“That I will take you up on,” I said with a quick grin.
Aster laughed. “Oh, I’ve got you covered. For simple, I actually love the diner. If you’re feeling like a latte or a blended drink, the Cozy Cup next to the bookstore is
perfect.”
“I’m taking mental notes.”
“All right, everyone,” Holly began, clapping her hands together. “Let’s find our seats so we can get started.”
I glanced around at the group, trying to settle on the best spot. A familiar face with light-brown hair and green eyes looked up, surprise lighting her expression. “Brae.” Cora greeted me. “There’s an open spot here.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the camp chair next to her. I waited for her to press, ask questions. But she didn’t. And the fact that Cora was here should’ve told me she wouldn’t because she’d lost someone, too.
“Hello, gorgeous,” she greeted my dog. “This must be the infamous Yeti. Can I pet her?”
“You’ll be her favorite person forever.”
Cora instantly sank her hands into Yeti’s fur, giving her all the scratches. “What an angel. Goodest girl in the world,
aren’t you?”
I laughed. “Only sometimes.”
“All right, settle in, everyone,” Holly commanded.
Every Compass chapter leader had a slightly different style, but I could already tell that Holly liked being at the center of things. That wasn’t necessarily bad. Most groups
needed a leader. And it was clear Holly wore that badge with pride.
As she went through the opening business, I felt eyes on me. My gaze lifted to find a man in his early seventies studying me. Not in an inappropriate way, more of a curious one. The moment our eyes met, he gave me a quick grin. I understood the curiosity about what someone’s story might be, but I hated it just the same.
As the opening business concluded, Holly took a seat next to Aster. “Does anyone have a case update for us?”
Compass meetings usually happened once a month.
Occasionally, there was a call for volunteers to help if a member needed boots on the ground for something. To search an area. To hand out fliers. But mostly, it was monthly meetings, which meant there were usually a fair number of updates.
The man in his seventies who’d been studying me earlier cleared his throat.
Holly’s gaze snapped to him. “Go ahead, Bruce.”
His throat worked as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “We, uh, my daughter and her husband, they found my grandson.”
The circle reacted in various ways. Next to me, Cora inhaled sharply. A few folks made audible sounds of concern or hope.
Bruce clasped his hands together tightly, knuckles bleaching white. “He’s living on the streets down in San Francisco.” His voice hitched. “My daughter and her husband went down there when the private investigator called. And Shawn…he didn’t want to be found.”
A few more sounds of heartbreak filtered through the air.
Tears swam in the older man’s eyes. “He’d rather sleep on the cold cement with nothing but a tarp to keep him dry.
He’d rather that existence than a warm bed and hot meals, just so he can have his drugs.”
Cracks erupted in my chest as my gaze sought out Owen on instinct. He was racing up the jungle gym with a little girl.
I couldn’t imagine what I would do if faced with the same fate.
Jack clapped Bruce on the shoulder, holding his grip but not saying anything.
Bruce hiccupped. “He doesn’t give a damn that he turned our lives upside down for the past nine months. That we’ve spent endless time, resources, worry.”
“Selfish,” Holly bit out. Not directed at Bruce but at the person hurting her friend.
The vehemence in Holly’s single word caught me off guard. It was so at odds with her warmth from when I first met her. But we all had our triggers. Maybe this was one of hers.
Aster reached out with a light hand, resting it gently on Holly’s arm for a moment before turning to Bruce. “Hurts like hell when someone chooses that.”
The way she said the words spoke of experience, which
had me curious.
“Like a damn brand,” Bruce rasped.
“And all we can do is remind ourselves that it has nothing to do with us. Addiction is a disease—one with no easy cure.
And the only one out there requireschoice from the afflicted,” Aster went on.
Alma made a clucking sound with her tongue, nodding in agreement. “My Maya. She was in that life, making choices that put her at risk. And now, I constantly have to battle being terrified for her out there and furious she left her children behind without a second thought.”
Bruce scrubbed a hand over his face as he turned toward the woman. “I don’t want to hate my grandson, but that anger…it’s so fierce.”
“It’ll always be there,” Alma told him. “Flashes of it so potent they steal your breath. But they come further and further apart. Time.”
“How can we help?” Aster inquired. “What do you need?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know,” Bruce muttered. “Now that I know he’s alive and wasn’t taken by some monster, that he’s not dead, I just…feel lost. Like I don’t belong here. Don’t belong anywhere.”
Holly leaned forward, dipping her head to meet Bruce’s gaze. “You’llalways belong here.”
I found myself softening toward Holly’s earlier harshness.
There was more than a good heart underneath it all. And when you lost someone, you sometimes needed to channel it into purpose.
Bruce sucked in a stuttered breath. “He’s not missing anymore.”
Holly’s eyes misted. “Neither is my boy. But I’m still here.”
Hell. With as young as Holly was, she had to have lost her son at far too young an age. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my arms and hold on tight. Which was the ultimate lesson, wasn’t it?
Someone might not be your kind of people, there might be something about them that annoyed you or that you disliked, but they were ahuman being. Someone with losses and triumphs, traumas and loves. And, most of all, they deserved support when they needed it.
“We all have a place here,” Cora said softly next to me.
Aster nodded. “That’s right. We all belong because of shared experiences and the commitment we’ve made to support one another however we can. You think you can still do that?”
Bruce lifted his head and met Aster’s pale-blue gaze. “I can do that.”
Her mouth curved into a soft smile that told him he was seen. “Good.”
Holly leaned back in her seat, wiping her hands on her dark jeans. “Anyone else?”
I felt Cora shift next to me. Her gaze dropped to her lap, where she plucked at a loose thread on her jeans.
“Tomorrow’s the anniversary. Eleven years since my mom disappeared.”
This was different. It was the kind of share that didn’t come with news or developments. The kind that was only put out there because it needed someone to bear witness. Over a decade without someone you loved… A different sort of ache took up residence in my chest— the kind borne of fear. The kind that asked if I’d still be here ten years from now, saying the same sorts of things. The kind that wondered if I, too, would never find answers.
“Sometimes,” Cora began, clearing her throat, “sometimes I wonder if she just decided to leave, peaced out on me and my dad and started over somewhere without the complications of family. I don’t know which would be worse: her choosing to leave or her being stolen from us.”
Bruce made a sound of agreement in the back of his throat.
Cora’s head lifted, her eyes finding his. “Either way, it’s pain. Part of you is frozen—the you that you were when they went away—and part of you is this whole different person.”
An invisible match lit the ache in my chest then. As if soaked in kerosene, it flamed to life. “Like they wouldn’t even recognize you if you passed them on the street,” I whispered.
Cora turned to me, her expression pained but somehow relieved at the same time. Because I’d seen her, because I knew her pain. And that was the magic of Compass.
“Exactly,” she agreed.
I felt another gaze on me and looked up to find Aster’s understanding eyes studying me. She sent me a gentle smile.
“Do you want to share what brings you to Compass, Brae?
There’s no pressure—”
I shook my head as if shaking off that suggested pressure.
The longer I waited, the harder it would be to open that
wound. My fingers dug into my jeans-clad knees. “My best friend—more like my sister. The person who helped me raise my son.”
My gaze flicked to Owen, and I watched for a moment as he raced around the playground, glasses bouncing up and down on his nose. I swallowed hard. “We were here, in Starlight Grove, on a girls’ weekend a year ago. She disappeared on a hike.”
There were a few sounds of pain or intakes of breath around me, but I didn’t search them out. It would be harder if I did. Instead, I let my vision go blurry as I watched my son have the time of his life.
“I stepped off the trail to take a stupid picture.
Wildflowers. I tripped and almost went straight into the river. It took me a few minutes to right myself and get up the embankment—no more than five. And she was gone.”
My fingertips began to tingle, and I ordered myself to breathe. “There was no sign of her or her pack. We were less than a mile from the trailhead, so I ran back there.
Nothing. Not until I found her water bottle on the ground.”
“I remember reading about that in the paper. They said law enforcement suspected accidental death, but you think she was taken?” the man named Jack asked, his eyes going hard.
My throat worked as I tried to dislodge the emotion making itself at home there. “I do. The sheriff thinks she somehow fell into the river from fifty feet away or got mauled by a cougar but managed to leave no blood behind.”
Jack’s dark eyes flashed. “Practically that whole
department’s a fucking joke.”
“Jack,” Aster warned.
“Yeah, yeah. Helpful, not harmful.” His gaze flicked to Cora. “Not Travis. He’s actually marginally useful.”
Cora’s lips twitched. “I’m gonna take that as the ultimate
compliment it is.”
Jack barked out a laugh. “True enough.”
Alma looked at me. “So you’re just visiting, then? Trying
to help?”
“No, I, um, moved here.”
Bruce let out a low whistle that I was sure spoke for the surprise of the whole group.
“She’s my family.” My voice hitched on the last word. “She was there for me when no one else was. I’m never going to give up on her.”
Cora reached over tentatively and squeezed my hand.
“She’s lucky to have you.”
The meeting continued with more shares and talk. Holly asked if anyone needed volunteers for search projects of any kind. I’d be taking the group up on that offer at some point— once I had a better idea of where to focus the volunteer hours.
As Holly closed the meeting, Yeti looked up at me balefully as if to say,Can I play now?
Aster grinned as she walked up. “Your girl has all the personality.”
I chuckled. “She’s very annoyed that we came to a park for something other than playtime.”
Aster crouched and got on my dog’s level. She sifted Yeti’s fur with her hands, finding the spots that sent her into a state of pure ecstasy. “You get a gold star for behavior, Miss Yeti.”
Aster’s pale-blue gaze flicked to me. “Think you could train my dog? He’s great with cattle but has a mind of his own the rest of the time.”
“Trust me, Yeti can be the most stubborn dog on the planet when she has a mind to.”
Aster moved to scratch behind Yeti’s ears. “You? Never.”
The way she handled Yeti, looked for all the tiny responses, told me she had plenty of experience with animals. But the mention of cattle meant she likely lived on a ranch—a life full of animals.
Maybe I’d find that for myself one day. A tiny patch of land with an array of dogs and other animals. Maybe a goat. I felt
like a goat would be fun.
“So,” Holly began as she walked up, “what did you think?”
I scanned the group, which was now snacking and chatting, the mood lighter. “Everyone seems pretty amazing.”
I swore Holly’s chest puffed up with pride. “They really are. We’re lucky.”
Aster pushed to her feet. “Let me give you my number.
We can all meet up for dinner or a drink one evening.”
My gaze moved to Owen yet again.
“Or lunch or coffee,” Aster quickly amended.
I shot her a grin. “That whole childcare thing.”
She smiled back. “I get it. I have a nephew who spends his summers with me.”
Pulling out my phone, I opened the contacts app and handed it to her. “That’ll keep you on your toes.”
“Eli?” Cora asked with an amused grin.
“The one and only,” Aster said as she punched in her contact information. “You know he’s probably only a year or two older than your son. We should get them together.”
“I’d love that.”
Aster handed me back my phone. “We’ll set it up.”
“Is there anything else you need?” Holly asked. “Anything with your friend’s case?”
It was incredibly kind of her to offer, and I could tell this group did more than just listen to each other. They lent a hand whenever it was needed.
“I’m still figuring that out,” I told her honestly. “I think the next thing is getting some tech help. I was hoping the sheriff might be looking into some camera feeds, but that’s not going to happen. Roger at the sheriff’s department said he has a friend who might help.”
“Not…” Holly began but trailed off, sending my spidey- senses tingling.
“He’s back,” Cora said quietly. “Maverick told Trav he’s back for good.”
Aster stiffened.
“What’s with the tension?” I asked, cutting through the veiled words and hushed tones.
Aster rolled her shoulders back. “Sorry. Roger’s friend, he’s a hacker. Orwas one. Got arrested in college and then got scooped up to work for the FBI. But he’s a good guy.”
Holly made a sound in the back of her throat that said otherwise. “He was a black-hat hacker wrapped up in the dark web, and weknow what goes on there.”
Aster’s eyes narrowed on Holly. “He was there trying to help people. People like us.”
“That’s whathe says. And given who his father is…” Holly argued.
A muscle fluttered in Aster’s cheek. “Don’t,” she clipped.
“Don’t be like the rest of the narrow- minded assholes in this town.”
There was a story here—one that ran deep. But the anger that flashed in Aster’s eyes told me it was a tender one, and now wasn’t the time.
Holly’s jaw tightened, molars grinding together. “You’re right. I shouldn’t.” She turned to me. “But you should still be cautious. I don’t want you getting wrapped up in something illegal.”
Nerves flitted through my belly. But what other choice did I have? The legal avenues of investigation weren’t exactly on my side. “I’d still like his help.”
Holly’s lips flattened into a hard line.
“You look like you sucked on a lemon, Holls,” Cora chided.
The expression only deepened.
Cora laughed. “Come on. Dex is a good guy. And you know it.”
It was my turn to stiffen. “Did you say Dex? Glasses? The guy whose hotness is only matched by his grumpiness?”
Aster looked confused. “He does wear glasses, and he’s definitely hot. But the only asshole in that family is Maverick.” Her mouth tightened on the name, and I realized
her earlier tension wasn’t at the mention of Dex but Maverick, who had to be his brother.
But I was still stuck on one thing. The black-hat hacker whose help I desperately needed? He was my hot, unhinged
neighbor who hated me.
Great. Just great.
