Chapter 9
brAEDYN
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 was thrilled 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 asking Can 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 with COMPASS 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.”