15. Mattias

We were getting ready to head outside when I had a thought. Maybe a ridiculous one, or maybe not, but...

"Hey Connor, could we get one of Jessie's sweaters or something from their suitcase?" He looked up at me, head cocked in confusion, one eyebrow lifted, so I rushed on. "It's Peanut. He's... well, he failed training pretty badly, but his mom is a scent dog that sometimes works for the local police. He's pretty good at following scents. He just usually gets distracted by food."

Connor looked down at the dog, who whined and danced at the end of his leash, looking at the door and then back at us, then nodded. He handed me the end of the leash and ran upstairs, coming back down a few minutes later with a little green sweater in his hands. If his eyes were a little glassy, well, neither of us mentioned it.

I wondered if he'd even opened the suitcase during the last two years.

I hated the idea that I'd brought his pain to the forefront, but maybe... well, there was no harm in letting Peanut have a chance at looking for Jessie, was there? Sure, it was ridiculous and unlikely, and Jessie wasn't going to smell the same two years later, probably. But trying was never a bad idea.

Sometimes trying was all a person had.

We headed down to the river trail, and Connor walked slower than usual. Almost like he was afraid of what would happen. That maybe Peanut would take off like a shot and lead us right to... something no one wanted.

We just walked for a while, Peanut sniffing everything and doing his doggie-duty, before we hit a spot on the trail where Connor paused. Or not paused, but... slowed. Like he wanted to stop, but also, the look on his face said stopping there was the last thing he wanted to do.

This must be it, then.

The last place he'd seen Jessie.

I patted my thigh to get Peanut to come over, and gently took Jessie's sweater from nerveless, limp fingers, holding it out to the hyperactive pup. He sniffed at it hard for a moment, looked around, then sniffed it again. Then, weirdly, he cocked his head, turned, and started walking off the trail.

Neither Connor nor I said a word, we simply followed him out into the trees.

It was obvious pretty quickly that he wasn't following any kind of straight trail, but going in wide circles. Still, he was moving with purpose, so even if it was just Peanut wanting to take his own walk, we followed.

"It's almost scary, the idea of finding them now," Connor said after a moment, his voice almost a whisper, then his head snapped up, eyes wide, and he rushed on. "Not that I don't want to. I'd give anything. It's just... I know, the likeliest way we'll find them now is—it's not—it's not like they're just hanging out in the woods playing. I know that. But even if they were, I failed. I failed them so completely. They've been gone for two years, and I haven't found them."

"That's fucking ridiculous and you know it," I shot back, almost venomously, giving him the angriest look I could muster when he looked so miserable. "You've done everything, Connor Darling. Every fucking thing. You've spent your whole life the last two years trying to find Jessie, and every other kid who goes missing. You've taken a horrible tragedy and turned it into something that helps people. I know it feels like failure because you don't have Jessie with you, but what else were you supposed to do?"

"Pay attention!" he almost shouted, and the birds in the area scattered from their branches. Even Peanut paused a moment to look at him, before continuing his ever-widening circles. Connor glanced around, his shoulders slumping and expression guilty. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be an ass to you, but I just... I should have been paying attention to them. If I'd been looking at my child instead of arguing over nothing with Trev, we'd still have Jessie. They'd be fine."

We walked in silence for a moment, Connor letting his head hang as he tried to process his own guilt for his child's disappearance.

For once in my life, I didn't second-guess or get angry with myself; I just followed my gut. I slid my free hand, the one that wasn't holding onto Peanut, into Connor's, and squeezed it tight. "That's true. That's how it always happens, I'm pretty sure. Because as much as we'd all like to think we aren't, we're human. You literally couldn't be watching Jessie every single moment, Connor. Eyes don't work like that. Human brains don't work like that. I understand you feel guilty. I won't even say you shouldn't, because we don't control how we feel. It's just that no one but you thinks you have anything to feel guilty about. You're a good dad. A good person. And you've done everything you could and then some."

He took a long, deep breath, broken by stifled tears, but nodded, and after a while, managed to whisper, "Thank you."

I thought he'd like to say more, but he just couldn't manage more words, and that was understandable. I knew all too well how it felt when the emotions backed up in your throat till you could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Thinking? That was way out of bounds.

We walked along in silence like that for a moment, before Peanut absolutely lost his mind. He started barking madly, rushed around in two circles, then took off running, so hard and fast that he pulled his leash right out of my hand.

"Oh no," Connor whispered, stopping entirely.

I stopped with him and squeezed his hand. "It's okay, Connor. Whatever he's found, it's... it's probably not even a person, let alone Jessie. It's Peanut. He probably caught scent of a hot dog."

Connor gave a choked laugh, his shoulders trembling with something between laughter and tears. "Would that make him a cannibal?"

"Guess we'd better catch him and keep him from crossing any ethical boundaries."

Connor nodded, so we turned and ran after Peanut. As we went, I heard something that made the breath hitch in my chest: children laughing.