*****154:

There wasn't any depression at all. She'd worried a bit in the middle of the night as she finished her first vampire novel, and shivered herself to sleep. What if she became depressed again, and slept through the children? What if she didn't take care of them? What if they were holed up here, and someone found them when the cruise ended, shrunken and starved?

But no. There was no depression. She needed very little sleep, wasn't tired, and woke refreshed about five hours later, to an incredible urge to compose. Words and music were flowing softly in her background , pretty, gentle, swelling, lovely. She sat down at her laptop, and began to write.

*****

It had been 48 hours. Michael had all his top men on it. And still, the girl had disappeared off the face of the planet. He'd had little or no sleep. Janene, his wife, forced him to eat, and to rest eventually, as she manned the phones for any returning news about Tracy's whereabouts, and reminded him that she was entitled to disappear if she wanted to. But Michael insisted that at this point it was likely she'd encountered foul play and he had the FBI on it, which could turn into a media circus if it wasn't carefully controlled.

Janene sat at Michael's computer, checked her email, answered a note from her sister, and then checked Michael's email. He had too much stuff to go through, but she saw a link there, an old link, a forward from Tracy and she clicked on it.

Minutes later she was bursting with excitement. She woke her husband.

"Michael, Michael, I've found her."

"Where is she?" he mumbled, sitting up blearily, but too fast, he held his hand to his head, his eyes blurred, but his consciousness returning with clarity.

"Look, I checked your email, and there's a link to a blog spot that Tracy used to have and there's been a recent entry, so I checked it, since it notifies you if there's anything new posted. I didn't have to have a password or anything since it automatically notifies you, and it's a private account, so only people she has already authorized can check it, and lo and behold, she's been cataloging songs, writing lyrics and music. All day yesterday, and all night. So you can rule out foul play, she's somewhere, and she's writing music. Isn't that a good source of comfort?" Janene's short curly brown bob nodded enthusiastically, and Michael's heart raced and then fell. But they still didn't know where she was, only what she was doing.

He tried to give his wife a thumbs up, as he sat there, sorting through the information. She pulled his laptop over to him and he stared at the music program hesitantly, looking for clues.

First song.... Lilting, classic.... Light. A love song, but not a romantic love song.

Second song.... A rocker, plummeting, almost rap. Spiced with moments of genius.

Third song.... A definite melancholy ballad.... Grieving again.

Fourth song.... Folksy... fun.... Piano.... With a children's theme....

Fifth song....Pop, hip-hop, alternative

He checked the date of posting and realized she had posted all in one day and there was more. In a download trend. Where was she? No clue from the music itself. She could be anywhere. New stuff just rolling off her, as it hadn't in months... a year....

His cell phone buzzed.

"Yeah?"

It was Phil. "My agent has been to Rosewood, the property in Montana, and Tracy is not there. But...."

"Yes?"

"We found the Explorer she rented at the Salt Lake City airport."

Michael felt some relief, now she could be tracked, if she was traveling... she'd have had to use a credit card.... He dialed Andria.

"Phil keep on looking." He said and then waited as Andria answered her private line. He explained that he needed all Tracy's cards accounted for, find which were active.... He wanted a report on his desk at Rocks in an hour.

*****