Page 24 of Mistaken

Hers was the kind of brain that liked to manufacture worst-case scenarios, and the current situation was no different. What if one of them had fallen and sprained an ankle or broken a leg? What if they’d been attacked by wild animals? What if there really were still rogue djinn out there, and Sarah and Carson had been taken and killed?

All right, that last scenario was probably a bit far-fetched. The three al-Qadir brothers had been the last of the reavers, and since they were now all happily settled down with mortal women, it didn’t seem as if the djinn threat was anything she needed to worry about.

Besides, both Sarah and Carson had a device with them. Even if a few bloodthirsty djinn whose only desire was to wipe all humanity off the map still existed, they wouldn’t have been able to get within a quarter-mile of the two explorers without having all their powers erased as if they had never been.

Lindsay settled against the seatback and let out a breath, then reached for the tumbler of water she’d brought with her and took a long sip. Some pregnant women couldn’t stand the taste of water, but it had always helped settle her stomach.

And wait — was that movement far up ahead, just around the curve in the highway?

She returned the tumbler to its cupholder and lowered her sunglasses to get a better look.

Yes, that was definitely Carson Mailer, now looking a little more disheveled than he had when he first set out a couple of days ago. Not, as he got closer, that it seemed as if he’d suffered any kind of injury, but only that his hair wasn’t nearly as perfect, and stubble darkened his chin and jaw.

Her brows pulled together. Where was Sarah? The plan had been for the two of them to meet up after they’d individually explored Lake Abiquiu and Ghost Ranch, and yet it seemed pretty obvious that Sarah Wolfe was nowhere to be seen.

Lindsay fumbled for the door handle and then pushed it open so she could climb out of the Volvo. As soon as Carson was a few yards away, she said, “Where’s Sarah?”

He pushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. On most people, Lindsay would have thought that wayward piece of hair was nothing more than that — something overgrown because he hadn’t gotten it cut lately. With Carson, though, she got the feeling he wore it that way on purpose so he could draw attention to himself by continually shoving it back.

“I don’t know,” he replied. To be fair, he actually sounded worried. “I waited and waited for her at the spot where we were supposed to meet, but she never showed up. Then I walked about a mile up the highway, just in case I’d gotten confused about the actual location. But I didn’t see any sign of her, and I knew if I kept going all the way to Ghost Ranch, then I’d never make it back here on time.”

None of this sounded very good. “And you tried contacting her with the walkie-talkie?”

Now Carson’s expression grew pained, as if he couldn’t believe she’d asked him such a stupid question. “Of course I did. She never answered. But if she was still up at Ghost Ranch somewhere, then she would have been out of range anyway.”

True. The walkies were there more to facilitate their meet-up and not to maintain communications, since they would have been too far apart for that to work.

Lindsay set her hands on her hips and gazed at the highway ahead of them, gauging all the various cracks and potholes, and trying to figure out whether her Volvo could handle such rough terrain. It had all-wheel-drive, but that was intended for maintaining traction on icy surfaces, not white-knuckling it across country roads that had never been that well-kept in the first place and certainly hadn’t improved after nearly five years of neglect.

Miles, she thought, would kill her if she tried to take the little SUV crossover all the way to Ghost Ranch, even if she had Carson Mailer’s dubious assistance and wouldn’t be going alone.

Should they wait a while longer? Yes, the original meet-up time had come and gone more than an hour earlier, but Lindsay knew she’d hate herself if she learned later on that Sarah had turned up only a few minutes or even a half hour after she and Carson had headed back to Los Alamos.

On the other hand, it wasn’t as if she planned to simply let this go. No, she was going to head home, tell Miles and everyone else on the town council what had happened, and then immediately organize a search party, one that was armed and driving one of their four-wheel-drive vehicles so they could go wherever they needed to go. The worst that would happen was that Sarah would have to wait a couple of hours while they got themselves together. She’d been given food for five days and there was a river full of fresh-flowing water only a hundred yards away, so she should be fine on that front.

That seemed to decide things. All the same, Lindsay kind of hated herself for saying, “Okay, let’s head back to Los Alamos.”

Yes, this had definitely been a good idea. As Abdul had promised, the horse Sarah was riding, a beautiful blood bay with a strikingly long tail, seemed to be utterly calm and ready to follow the big black stallion the djinn had chosen for himself. That horse seemed a lot more strong-willed, but Abdul managed his mount with surprising skill.

The horses had appeared out of nowhere and had been waiting for them when they emerged from the house after breakfast. Sarah had been a bit concerned about riding in these clothes — she could tell as soon as she put them on that they were real silk — but her companion had brushed those worries aside.

“They will be quite comfortable for riding,” he told her. “And if you should stain them somehow, that is easy enough to fix.”

Yes, she supposed cleaning clothes would only be a finger snap to a djinn. Also, the tunic and slim pants were extremely comfortable, and allowed her to climb up into the saddle without any worries about something being too tight. She’d switched out her sandals for a pair of flats, and Abdul had conjured a hat and a pair of sunglasses for her, so she was about as well-outfitted for the ride as she was going to be, even if the ensemble might have looked a little funny to any onlookers.

But she and Abdul were here alone, so she knew she didn’t need to worry about any outside observers.

Now they’d ranged far beyond his house, following a trail that led into the hills and sloped upward, although not at a steep enough angle that the horses seemed to be getting winded. From here, she could see almost all of the ranch, including the dirt road that led in from the highway. She stared off into that distance, wondering if she might be able to catch any sign of Carson coming this way…and what in the world she would do if she did manage to spot him.

However, the highway appeared utterly empty, so it sure didn’t look as though he had decided to come and investigate her absence. She wasn’t completely sure of the time, but she guessed it had to be past eleven or maybe even a little later, and that meant she was horribly overdue for their meet-up. And, in true Carson Mailer fashion, he hadn’t even tried to come and find her, but instead had headed down to La Chuachia to meet with Lindsay.

All right, that wasn’t completely fair. While he had one of the devices with him and a knife similar to the one she’d carried, it wasn’t as if he was prepared to fight off a bear or a contingent of djinn, or whatever else he might think had delayed her here in Ghost Ranch. Honestly, the smart thing to do would be to regroup and figure out the best way to go looking for her.

“Do you see something?” Abdul asked, and Sarah immediately wrenched her attention away from the road and back to the trail before her…and the djinn who rode only a few yards ahead.

“No,” she said hastily. “I guess I was just trying to see if I could figure out how big Ghost Ranch is.”

“Well over a thousand acres,” he supplied, which surprised her a little. Or maybe not. After all, this was his land, so it seemed logical that he would have learned as much as he could about it. “From this trail to the highway, it is around four miles.”

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