Her destination from there was a modest home, by country standards. Breaking away from open farmland the land was claimed almost entirely by pine trees, standing tall and proud. It was an hour drive down a winding dirt road, lush and green from a more than ample rainy season. There, tucked far in the woods, was what Jane affectionately called The Den.

She pulled up to the home slowly, not wanting to move too quick for the black lab that had sauntered up to meet her vehicle. The Den was a two story home with a large patio. Jane loved it. It looked warm and welcoming. Shade from an oversized oak tree kept much of the driveway cool. A set of swings hung from the largest branch, sitting just beside a comfortable looking hammock draped in a colorful blanket.

It was the most comfortable looking place to rest, but certainly not the only place. From a distance it looked as though the home had vomited out a stream of chairs of all shapes and sizes. Some had clearly seen better days, but most were in good condition. The Den had gained a reputation over the years for being a place to meet. All of the chairs had been brought and left behind by others. Most were claimed. Jane knew for a fact that it took around half an hour to bring them all outside -- which was important to do because you never knew who would show up.

Stepping out the front door was a woman in her early thirties. Tan worn from years spent working under the sun, she cradled a box filled with pipes under one arm while taking a sip from a water bottle. Her worn shirt and faded jeans were stained with bright paints and dark oil. Workers clothing that fit her as naturally as a uniform. A smile crept across the woman’s face as she watched Jane’s jeep make its way to the front of her home.

“¡Mira quién es!” she laughed as Jane parked just beyond the gathering of chairs. “Tu asiento no está listo todavía.”

“No te preocupes por eso.” Jane smiled. “I won’t be long, Dawn.”

Dawn set her box aside to give Jane a warm embrace. Jane gave an audible sigh, closing her eyes with relief.

“It’s been too long.” she said, pointing over to the swings. “Have time for a chat?”

“I’ve got a few visitors once the town hall is over. Give me a hand with these and we’ll have a drink.”

Together the pair got to work organizing chairs into place. Jane had been to plenty of these before. Family meetings. Friendly gatherings. Less frequent during the harvest season and stormy weather, it was a chance for everyone to share stories about their day. Not just any stories, really. Only the best. The most memorable stories would move from week to week, creating a competition within the community to come up with the best tale. One that could dethrone the king.

Funny stories usually lasted the longest, and while the pair idly worked Dawn filled her in on a few new ones that were bound to become classics. They both had to stop working to laugh over a retelling of the Yazzie twins switching places on a date with daughter of a family friend. When they were done outside the pair took their conversation indoors. While Dawn made tea, Jane took a moment to appreciate her art.

There may have been better painters in the world, but there was something special about Dawn’s work. Jane wasn’t well-versed enough in the art word to describe it. The living room was like a cathedral of color, off-white walls mostly hidden behind a collection of murals, watercolor portraits, and half-finished landscapes still resting on easels. Jane couldn’t help but be drawn to the works in progress, waiting to be finished.

“Is this the rec center?” she paused at what appeared to be the start of an unusually shaped oval.

“Yeah!” Dawn yelled from the kitchen after poking her head around the corner. “I was thinking about making a map. Start with the entrance to the reserve. Maybe block out some property lines.”

“I like it. Maybe if we can ever get a printer up and running we can scan and make a few copies.”

“That’ll be expensive.” said Dawn, passing a steaming mug to Jane. “Plus, don’t you have Sheriff Duty?”

“Mmm.” Jane admired another portrait of a desert landscape, black clouds rolling across a bright blue sky. “Yes and no. That’s why I’m here actually.”

Walking slowly through Dawn’s impromptu gallery Jane filled her in on the disappearance of Lynn Kline. Her red bicycle, the yellow dress, the unusual circumstances of her vanishing. While other locals may have held some reservations in speaking with an outsider, Jane knew that Dawn would be honest with her.

“I’m sorry to hear about the girl, but I don’t think I can help you on this one.” said Dawn with a frown. “I’ve seen her around too, but not in the past few days. Pretty girl.”

“What about the boyfriend?”

“Uh, John River. He’s a skinny kid. Kind of lanky. If you ask around, ask for ‘Creek’.”

“Creek.” Jane flipped open a small writing pad and jotted down a note. “Any idea of where he is?”

“You getting all tough cop on me, Officer Pilton?”

“I’m not afraid to break out the nightstick on this one.” Jane grinned.

“Almost everyone’s working the farmland these days. Either that or watching the main road.” Dawn sat down on a reclining chair, stirring her cup with a spoon. “You see the post on the way in?”

“Some. A big gathering at the rec center?”

“No, that’s no gathering. That’s the way it is. Had a few raids a week back and we decided it’s time to close borders.”

“Raids? On what?” concern fell across Jane’s expression. Things had always been tense since the Federation fell, but the dam’s need for labor and supplies had kept everyone working toward a common goal. “Who would risk starting a fight?”

Dawn paused for a moment, letting Jane take a seat before speaking further.

“About a year back we were approached by a Federation representative. It was part of that reparation initiative they started. Guy flies in with a fancy suit, asks to speak with our Chief.”

“I heard about that. They did that for a lot of tribes didn’t they?”

“All of em. Everyone got the same treatment. They offered to bring the entire reservation ‘up to speed’. Pave new roads, update our medical facilities, assist with housing, electrical, you name it. Said that we were ‘long past due for being treated like citizens of the twenty first century.’”

“How much?”

“For free.” Dawn snorted a laugh. “Said there were no terms, no conditions. Just good will. We could ever put together a list of things we needed, to see if they could manage anything extra.”

“What? Why?” Jane’s confused expression made Dawn shake her head in reply.

“That’s exactly what we said. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the Feds were nice. They always seem to be. Just seemed too good to be true.” Dawn sighed. “We said no. But they tried again. Two more times. Then we wake up one day and find a few dozen crates left outside the reserve, right under our sign.”

Jane had heard about this from the locals. It had stirred up quite a controversy at the time. Hundreds of thousands of dollars of medical equipment, left unattended for the Indigenous residents of Open Sky to receive. Most of it came with replacement parts and contact information regarding further inquiries.

Most who were aware of the drop off knew they needed it, but it had caused a tremendous rift in the community. The offer, soon after known as the Indigenous Reparation Initiative, was an effort to bring these more isolated communities up to date with Federation standards. It was meant to be a balancing act. Many saw it as favoritism.

Explaining life here to outsiders was always tricky. Jane knew the frustration well. She wasn’t born here, but she considered Open Sky to be a part of her family. There was a lot of pride in every Indigenous community. Dawn’s great, great grandfather had built The Den. Since then, every generation had added a little more. A second floor, a shed, a garage. Dawn had taken it upon herself to fully restore the home. No one wanted, or expected handouts. Where self reliance was valued most, it was equal parts embarrassing and infuriating to be assumed lazy or selfish.

“These people...” Dawn trailed with a sigh. “They kept trying to give us things, ya know? Stuff. As if it just fixes everything.”

“Maybe in this case it’s better late than never. Equipment like that can go a long way.”

“We just want to be left alone.” Dawn leaned back in her recliner, cradling the drink close. “Sometimes it feels like no one gets that.”

“You ever think that just humoring them would have made it stop?”

“The government? C’mon Jane, you should know better. You can’t compromise with suits. The second they want something they just figure out how to take it. People think we’re just complainers. That we’re still crying about something done to our people hundreds of years ago. But till the very end, they kept trying to take and take. Pipelines through our land. Farmers relocated. Industrial spills that bled into our rivers --”

“Well I don’t think that will be a problem anymore.” Jane spoke loudly, not wanting to interrupt but know full well when a rant was coming. It’s not that she disagreed. Normally she would be all ears, but there was still a girl missing.

“Every day I think about it. Maybe the collapse was the best thing to happen to us.” Dawn shrugged. “Now we just need to worry about our neighbors stealing food. We can manage that.”

“I’ll try to find a lead on that for you. I just can’t imagine who would be that stupid.”

“Try looking in your own backyard.”

Jane opened her mouth to retort, but paused. Dawn held a hand across her mouth, eyes glossy with tears.

“I’m sorry Jane. I’m so, so sorry.” Dawn’s voice was muffled but full of strain.

“Hey,” Jane got up quickly, and the two women embraced in a hug. It was easy to feel her friend’s restrained sobbing through the jump of her shoulders. “I get it. Really, I understand. Things are tough on everyone, but we can make it work.”

“I know. I know.” Dawn sniffled, regaining her composure. “And I know you’re not like them. I do.” She took a step back, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You’re always welcome here. Everyone agrees. We don’t get why you’re so bent on staying at Beryl.”

“Well, someone’s gotta give them some perspective right? Education and intervention.” said Jane with a grin. “I’ve got a nice lakeside view, too.”

“Kenny didn’t deserve you. My brother really fucked your marriage with his bullshit.” Dawn stifled a laugh. “I wish I said something before you got together.”

“He was an idiot.” Jane nodded. “But I was too. We were young. After the first few months I just told myself I was in it for the family perks. I shoulda kept the surname though. Jane Thundering Bear had such a nice ring to it.”

“Well, you’ve got that nickname out of the deal.”

“Yeah. There were a couple of those in the running. I remember hearing ‘Bear Fucker’ was popular with the boys when I was working the strip.” Jane frowned, recalling the experience.

“Well let’s be glad Bear Lady won out. That’s the kind of name that really ages well.”

“I picture an old woman surrounded by furs. Maybe with an oversized shotgun.”

“And one of those hats with the flaps. You know. Whatever it’s called!” laughed Dawn, holding up a hand to her ears as an example.

They talked for another hour. About funny hats, tea, movies and men. It was a good distraction from the hard times they lived in, and Jane knew that she had always been luckier than most. The least she could do was spend some time sharing a laugh with a good friend.

Jane would have probably stayed longer but she still had work to do. Dawn walked with her outside, promising to let her know if she learned anything about Lynn that would help her investigation. At the very least, she would come visit.

A small caravan of vehicles had just begun to make their way down the dirt road just as she was stepping into the driver’s seat. Jane recognized a couple of faces. She waved as they started to pull in, lowering her window while she waited for them to park.

“Bear Lady! You bringin us good news?” one shouted while pulling his truck beside her.

She laughed, greeting each with a cheerful hello as they started to fill in for the planned gathering. Most were still dressed from their work in the fields, with exception to who she assumed were the Yazzie twins. They both wore leather bomber jackets with a unique letter embroidered on each arm, a B and a J -- gifts probably forced on them after one too many teenage pranks.

No one had any information about Lynn. They’d seen her around and knew she dated this ‘Creek’. He worked night shifts at the dam, but otherwise he was a good kid. Knew a lot about electrical wiring. No one had seen him for the past day but that alone wasn’t too unusual. You could go a week without seeing a neighbor in these parts.

But he was scheduled to work night shifts all this month. If Creek was going to be anywhere, Beryl Dam would be the place to find him.