Chapter 9 #2
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 requires choice 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’ll always 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 a human 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. Or was 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 we know what goes on there.”
Aster’s eyes narrowed on Holly. “He was there trying to help people. People like us.”
“That’s what he 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.