Page 42 of Mistaken

“Carson said he looked for her,” Miles pointed out, but Lindsay only shook her head.

“Do you really trust him on that?”

Miles’s mouth thinned. Although he hadn’t spent as much time around Sarah’s fellow volunteer as his wife had, Lindsay could already tell that he’d taken the other man’s measure and found him wanting.

“Probably not,” he said.

“Well, then,” Lindsay replied, figuring that should take care of that.

Miles, unfortunately, didn’t seem ready to capitulate. “We both heard Zahrias. He was quite clear that the elders have interdicted not just Ghost Ranch, but the surrounding areas, including the lake and Abiquiu itself.”

While she might have admitted to a failure of hearing on that particular point if she thought it would do any good, she still wasn’t quite ready to let the matter go.

“It still seemed to me as if the elders were more concerned about Ghost Ranch itself,” she said. “And even though none of us truly understands the real extent of their powers, there’ve been enough instances where they’ve been ignorant of things going on here on Earth that we know they’re not omniscient. I don’t see the harm in sending a small search party to Abiquiu Lake to take a look around, just to be safe. If it turns out they don’t find anything, then okay, we’ll just have to accept that we may never learn what really happened to Sarah. But I just don’t think I could live with myself if we didn’t at least try.”

For a moment, Miles didn’t say anything. His long, sensitive fingers fiddled with the handle of his fork, telling her he was pondering the issue and that it was better for her to remain silent rather than continue to press her case. Instead, she sipped some wine, reached over with her napkin to wipe a smear of tomato sauce off Dylan’s cheek — he made a face but didn’t try to pull away — and waited for her husband to respond.

“All right,” he said at last. “I’m still not sure this is the intelligent thing to do, but I suppose we can feign ignorance if we’re caught. Who did you have in mind for the search party?”

Lindsay knew better than to volunteer, not when she was in the precarious early weeks of her pregnancy. Even if she hadn’t been pregnant, she understood that she wasn’t the best person for this kind of mission anyway. While she wasn’t completely an indoor girl, she also knew she wasn’t much of a hiker.

No, they needed a couple of people who could get in there and get out quickly, and leave as little trace as possible behind.

“Shawn, definitely,” she said. Having him go was something of a risk, just because he was a valuable member of the town council, but at the same time, he was the outdoorsy type who did twenty-mile hikes for fun and was also good at hunting and fishing. Not that she thought he’d need to bag a deer on this trip or anything close to it, and yet he could live off the land if necessary. “And probably José Padilla,” she added, a Native American man who was also in his early thirties like Shawn, and who’d been part of the Isleta pueblo just south of Albuquerque before the world went to shit. He’d demonstrated his tracking abilities before, and she couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be a better companion to Shawn Gutierrez on a mission like this.

Miles set down his fork. “They would make a capable team. We can contact them in the morning.”

For a second or two, Lindsay thought about protesting the delay. But then she realized it was already past six o’clock, and by the time the two men were outfitted and ready to go, night would be falling. Much better to wait so they could set out first thing in the morning and have a full twelve hours of daylight for their search.

About all she could do now was hope they’d be able to bring Sarah home.

At dinner, Sarah had thanked Abdul for the piano again, but he noted that she seemed distracted, as if she was doing her best to determine how much of her past inhibitions she was willing to let go so that she might begin to truly work on her voice again. Yes, the house was large, but even so, he guessed he would be able to hear her no matter where he went.

That would not be a problem for him, of course; he looked forward to listening to her sing again, even if she was doing something as simple and pedestrian as practicing scales. Her piano skills were excellent, so he didn’t think she would have too much trouble accompanying herself.

And yet….

She’d made that stray comment about having an accompanist when she worked with her voice coach. Would it not be much better for her to not have to play as well, and to instead have someone at the piano while she sang?

Probably. But while Abdul could claim many gifts far beyond those most djinn possessed, even he could not summon a human who played the piano out of thin air. He could travel with one, of course, and for a wild moment, he considered pushing his way past the devices that protected Los Alamos and the surrounding countryside so he might take someone to accompany Sarah as she practiced, but that was a foolish notion at best. He had no idea whether anyone in that enclave of humans could play anywhere close to as well as she…even if he knew he was fully capable of gritting his teeth and ignoring the debilitating effects the devices would surely have on him.

Now, though, as he lay in bed and stared up at the darkened ceiling above, an even wilder idea occurred to him.

What if he played for Sarah?

On the surface, of course, the notion sounded absolutely ludicrous. He had never played a piano or any kind of musical instrument, for he, like the djinn, did not have any predilection toward creative pastimes. But he was unlike the elementals in many other ways, and he wondered now if he might be able to summon the necessary skills to do such a thing. After all, he would not be interpreting the music, attempting to put his own stamp on it, but would only play in the manner that Sarah asked him to. She would be the one determining whether to speed up in one section and slow in another, or to grow soft or loud to convey a certain type of emotion.

The more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him. In this way, he could make himself indispensable to her, and she would have even less desire to leave Ghost Ranch. He noted she had said nothing on the subject the past couple of days, but that could have been because she knew her pleas to leave would fall on uncaring ears.

But this — he thought this a very good plan indeed. Because he did not need to sleep, he could summon another tablet and some headphones so he would not run the risk of waking her, and he would spend this evening listening to piano music and piano exercises.

And yes, also the melodies from the musical that was supposed to have been her opportunity for success in the theater. Surely she would wish to sing those pieces again.

He smiled in the darkness.

Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

When Sarah got out of the shower the next morning, she paused, towel wrapped around her as she tilted her head to one side.

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