The Summit (9 page)

She looked up as the waiter arrived, a tall woman wearing a crisp black apron over her white blouse and black slacks. Both of them gave her their orders: a medium-rare filet for Ben with Roquefort sauce on the side; homemade tortellini with a sun-dried tomato cream sauce for Autumn.

While they were waiting for their meals, she described in detail her recurring dreams of the day Molly had been abducted, the children playing in the yard and the little red-haired boy named Robbie. She told Ben about the man and how he had convinced Molly to go with him in his car to help him find his lost puppy.

“How old a guy was he?”

“Late thirties, maybe a little younger. Blond hair. Kind of a nice-looking man. I remember he had friendly eyes.”

One of Ben's dark eyebrows went up, sending a hint of embarrassment into Autumn's cheeks. “I know it sounds crazy, but his eyes kind of crinkled when he smiled and I remember thinking that you couldn't trust a person just because he looked harmless.”

Ben cast her a meaningful glance. “That much is certainly true.”

Autumn's flush deepened, but she forced herself to go on. “The man gave Molly this little black and white puppy to hold. He said its name was Cuffy. He said he had another puppy named Nicky but Nicky had gotten lost. He asked Molly to help him find it.”

Ben's jaw turned to granite and the warmth in his eyes disappeared. “I swear, if you are making all of this up—”

“You know some of it's true. They were playing ball in the yard. I read that later in the newspaper. You told me yourself the little boy's name was Robbie. That wasn't in any of the papers I read but you told me yourself he was there that day in the yard.”

Ben took a drink of his wine and she thought that he was working to stay in control. The waiter arrived with their salads but neither of them started to eat.

“Tell me about the second dream…the one where Molly is older.”

Just to give herself some time, Autumn took a sip of her wine then set the glass back down. “I didn't recognize her at first. She was with two women, both of them blond and fair. They were working in the kitchen, preparing a meal…supper, I think. They were all very solemn. None of them laughing. It bothered me even in my sleep.”

“Go on.”

“The women were talking, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. That happened in the first dream, but as the nights progressed, the dream became more clear. Maybe if it keeps happening, eventually I'll know what's being said.”

He picked up his fork, but didn't take a bite. He kept his dark gaze centered on her face. “How did you know the girl in the second dream was Molly?”

“Like I said, I didn't recognize her at first, but once I got a look at her, I didn't have the slightest doubt. She has these huge blue eyes and her eyebrows arch up in this sweetly feminine way. She has your nose, you know—only smaller, of course. I'd like to see a picture of your wife—”

“Ex-wife,” he corrected.

“Yes, well, I'd like to see if I can pick out Molly's features in her.”

He leaned toward her. “That's it? That's all you saw? Three women working in a kitchen?”

She didn't want to tell him; it was bound to be painful. But if they were going to have any chance of success she had to be completely truthful.

“There was something else…something that convinced me I had to look for her, try to find her.”

“Say it. I can tell you don't want to.”

She released a slow breath. “In the dream—for an instant—Molly turns and looks straight at me. There is so much pain in her eyes…so much despair. It seems to run soul-deep. It's as if she is begging for my help.”

 

Ben just sat there, his chest squeezing like a thousand-pound boulder sat on top of it. What if Autumn Sommers was telling the truth? If he closed his eyes, he could see Molly's big blue eyes looking at him from beneath the sweet, pale arch of her brows. If Molly was alive, was she being beaten, abused? Or was she just desperately unhappy, living in a place she didn't belong—being raised by strangers who weren't her family and didn't really love her?

If she still lived, did she remember her real parents? She had been old enough and yet maybe, over the years, those memories had slowly faded.

Ben shoved his salad away without taking a bite. “Here's what I'm going to do. Tomorrow I'll talk to Pete Rossi, the private detective I hired to investigate you.”

Two days ago, Pete had called him in response to Ben's inquiry about Autumn and Gerald Meeks. According to Pete, Autumn had indeed spoken to Meeks at the federal prison in Sheridan, but Rossi couldn't confirm what Meeks had said. The inmate had refused his request for a visit and probably wouldn't have told him anything anyway.

“I'll ask Rossi to start digging around, see if he can turn up anything new about Molly's disappearance.” He hadn't done this yet. He'd wanted more proof that Autumn's crazy dreams were real.

“Did Rossi work on the case when Molly first disappeared?”

“No. I used a different agency. But I think it might be better to start fresh. Look at the whole thing from a different perspective.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Autumn gave him such a bright, hopeful smile that Ben found himself oddly disarmed. “So we're going to start looking?”

He leaned back in his chair. “Don't get too excited. I said I'd ask Pete to do a little digging. I'm not about to set this whole thing in motion—not yet.”

“But—”

“Cancel your climbing trip and I'll pick you up for the benefit at seven o'clock tomorrow night.”

She toyed with her fork, eyeing him across the table. “Are you sure your friends won't think you're lowering your standards? I'm hardly a cover model.”

No, she was nothing at all like Dolores Delgato or any of the other women he was likely to take to this kind of affair. But she was smart and interesting and—though she didn't seem to know it—sexy as hell. An image of Autumn's tight round behind flexing as she climbed the wall sent a shot of pure lust into his groin. She chewed her bottom lip, which was rosy and full and made him want to run his tongue across it.

Under different circumstances—

Ben cut off the thought. “To tell you the truth, the evening will probably be a whole lot more interesting with you instead of someone who doesn't really want to be there in the first place. Now eat your salad and let's enjoy our meal. We can talk about climbing, if you want. That shouldn't be too personal.”

Autumn's small shoulders relaxed and she gave him another smile. It made her seem completely sincere and utterly without guile. He reminded himself he couldn't risk trusting her—not yet. He had to think of Katie and Joanne, his parents and the rest of his family. He refused to see them suffer again.

Time was what he needed. Time to know if Autumn Sommers was telling the truth. And if she was, time to discover whether or not—as impossible as it sounded—her dreams might lead him to Molly.

But how much time did he have?

Ben prayed that his need for caution wouldn't come at Molly's expense.

A
utumn was tired when she got back home. The evening with Ben had been taxing. She knew it was the sexual attraction she felt for him that she didn't want to feel. She tried to tell herself it was only natural with a man as handsome and charming as Ben, but the truth was that Ben seemed to affect her in a different way than other men.

Usually, she had a knack for keeping the opposite sex at arm's length. She let men know early on that she enjoyed their friendship but she wasn't interested in anything more. Most of them accepted it, some were maybe even a little relieved.

Ben was different. There was a look in his eyes that said he saw her as a woman, an object of desire that had nothing at all to do with friendship. It surprised and flattered her. The man dated the most beautiful women in the world. That he would show the slightest interest in her was amazing.

Of course she could be wrong. She could be seeing something that wasn't really there. Or perhaps he was just that way with women in general, seeing each of them as an object to be conquered.

Ronnie Hillson had been that way—charming her, pretending an interest in her that lasted through the month they had dated, then disappearing the day after he took her to bed. At first she believed she must be a really bad lover, but eventually she decided that more likely it was the conquest that had interested Ronnie and she was just too naive to see.

Autumn yawned as she headed for the bedroom, stripping off her sweater along the way. She had called Josh on her cell on the way home from the restaurant to apologize for breaking off their climbing date again.

“Things happen,” he'd said. “It's no big deal. Mike Logan's been bugging me to go. I'll ring him up, see if he can get his shit together by tomorrow morning.”

“Mike's not ready for Castle Rock.”

“Yeah, I know. We'll go somewhere else.” She could almost see Josh grin. “Which is good because I wouldn't want to tackle Castle Rock with anyone but you.”

“I'm really sorry, Josh.”

There was a pause on the end of the line. “You…uh…seem kind of pre-occupied lately. You'd tell me, wouldn't you, if something was wrong?”

“I'm fine. I've been having a little trouble sleeping is all. I'm sure it will pass. I'll talk to you next week.” She'd hung up the phone and found Ben watching her.

“Sounds like your friend, Josh, is worried about you.”

“He's a very caring guy.”

“You sure it isn't more than that?”

Her head had come up at the odd note in his voice. “Actually, Josh is in love with my best friend, Terri Markham. Unfortunately for Josh, Terri doesn't know he exists.”

“Poor guy.”

“Yeah. I keep hoping Terri will open her eyes and see how great Josh is.”

The taxi had pulled up in front of her building a few minutes later and Ben insisted on escorting her to her door. She didn't invite him in and it was clear he didn't expect her to. She'd said good-bye, then closed the door and leaned against it, surprised to discover how fast her heart was racing.

Damn.

Autumn sighed as she undressed and tossed her clothes on the bed. Feeling any sort of physical attraction to Ben McKenzie was the last thing she wanted. The man was way out of her league and even if he was interested—which he probably wasn't—she'd be a fool to even consider getting involved with him.

Autumn hung up her clothes—determined not to think of him—slipped into her pink shortie nightgown, drew back the covers and crawled into bed.

That night, she dreamed.

 

Ben spent all day Saturday at his office, working on the problem of A-1 Sports and their threat to his Issaquah store. He made a phone call to Russ Petrone, the real estate broker who'd been keeping him informed, and Russ told him A-1 had officially made an offer on the vacant lot on the corner across the street from his store.

“Sonofabitch.”

“The sellers haven't accepted yet, but it looks like they probably will.”

“Not good news.”

“You said A-1 wants to buy your stores. I got this info without much trouble. I think they want you to know. Probably figure the threat of a competing store so close might be enough to get you to accept their offer.”

“I'm sure that's what they're hoping but I'm not taking the bait, which means they'll have to go one step further.”

“You think they'll actually build across the street?”

“I think they'll go that far if they have to. They'll figure if they can drive down the profits on the Issaquah store—maybe even force it to close—I'll be inclined to accept their offer for the chain.”

“Anything you want me to do?”

“I want you to talk to the owners of that property. Keep it quiet, but see if you can find out the terms of A-1's offer. Tell the owners we'll up the price by twenty percent but the sale has to close in three business days. And if they go back to A-1, the deal is no longer on the table.”

For their plan to work, A-1 had to buy that particular piece of property. There was nothing else suitable in the downtown area or anywhere close and it didn't look like there would be anytime soon. If Ben could quietly make the purchase and keep the land out of A-1's hands, the company would be out of luck.

“You sure you can close in three days?” Russ asked.

“You make the deal. I'll find the money.”

Russ hung up with a promise to call him back with any news and Ben made a call to Pete Rossi—the second attempt of the day.

“Sorry I didn't get back to you,” Pete said. “My cell's been out of range.”

“Not a problem. Damn phones don't work half the time.”

“After the deal with Meeks, I'm guessing you want me to take another look into your daughter's disappearance.”

“Good guess.”

“You figure if Gerald Meeks didn't kill her, there's a chance she might still be alive.”

“So far you're one step ahead of me.”

“So how does the Sommers woman fit in?” Pete asked.

Ben had been careful not to tell Rossi any more than he had to, but he trusted the investigator and if he was going to go on with this, he had to play it straight. “About two weeks ago, Autumn Sommers approached me about Molly. She claimed she was having recurring dreams about her. I know it sounds crazy, but she was determined enough to go see Meeks, which couldn't have been pleasant. And she knows things, Pete, things that weren't in the papers.”

He told the investigator about little Robbie Hines in the yard, how the boy wasn't mentioned in the papers, yet Autumn had described him perfectly. “If Meeks really told her he didn't kill Molly, then I can't ignore the possibility that this might be real.”

“I've known a few cops who worked with psychics. I used to think it was all a load of crap but according to a couple of the guys, sometimes it worked. If Molly was my daughter, I'd be willing to try just about anything.”

“Thanks, Pete.”

“I'll call you, whatever I find.”

Ben hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. It was starting again. The whole awful mess was starting all over and he felt helpless to stop it.

The phone rang just then, his private line. He looked at the caller's number and saw that it was Katie. He took a deep breath and picked up the phone, heard her sweet voice and smiled.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Daddy. I just called to make sure you didn't forget you were picking me up tomorrow.”

“Do I ever forget?”

“Well no, but I just wanted to be sure. We're going out on the boat, right?”

His forty-foot cabin cruiser,
Katydid.
“Yup, and I'm bringing us a picnic lunch. I haven't forgotten.” Katie loved boats and anything to do with water. She wanted him to take her kayaking, teach her the sport, but she was only ten and it could be dangerous and he worried she might get hurt. He and Joanne were both overly protective, he knew, but they had already lost one daughter. He wasn't taking any chances on losing another.

“Okay, Dad, I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you,” Ben said. And he did, wildly. He never missed one of his visitation days and always tried to make them special for Katie. But he didn't ask for more time than what the courts had allotted. He knew he should make an effort to be with Katie more often, knew that Joanne wanted him to, but something always seemed to get in the way. He told himself it wasn't how much Katie reminded him of Molly. It wasn't that when he looked at her gleaming blond hair and big blue eyes, an ache rose in his chest.

An image surfaced of his first-born daughter, the one he had believed long dead. He thought of Autumn Sommers and the swirl of uncertainties that were pulling at him with inescapable force and prayed Autumn was as innocent and sincere as she appeared.

Not a woman with her own agenda who might wind up destroying him and the people he loved.

 

Autumn paced her living room, more nervous than she would have imagined. It was ridiculous. So what if Ben McKenzie was the darling of the social set and she was wearing a black and silver sequined gown she had bought on the sale rack at Macy's? It had never bothered her with Josh. Of course Josh wore rented tuxedos.

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She'd been tempted to cancel the date. She hadn't slept well last night. After her last dream of Molly, she had placed a pencil and notebook next to the bed, determined to write down each detail exactly as she had seen it. When the dream came and jolted her awake, she had turned on the light next to the bed and started writing, jotting down every image she had seen while it was fresh in her mind.

Unfortunately, she was wide awake by the time she finished and unable to get back to sleep until nearly dawn. She would have cancelled if she hadn't wanted to talk to Ben and go over the details of the dream, which were now a little clearer than before.

Autumn glanced at the antique clock above the sofa, saw that it was a quarter to seven. Time dragged and her nerves spun tighter as each minute slowly ticked past. She thought about opening the bottle of Mumms that Terri had given her for her birthday. Maybe a glass of champagne would calm her nerves.

In the end, she just paced, hoping Ben would arrive on time, staring at the clock and wishing the hands would move faster.

He arrived right on the hour, coming up to her door as he had before, then waiting in the living room while she went to get her black pashmina, meant to serve as her wrap for the night.

He turned to her as they stood in front of the elevator waiting for the doors to open. “By the way, have I told you how stunning you look?” His eyes, the color of finely aged whiskey, moved over her with obvious appreciation.

“You don't have to be kind. As I said, I'm not a cover model.”

He caught her shoulder and turned her to face him. “You really don't know, do you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don't have to be a cover model to be a beautiful woman, Autumn. You're different, that's all. You have an incredibly pretty face and the most glorious dark-copper hair. You have your own sort of style and you wear it extremely well.”

She felt a rush of pleasure she didn't want to feel. He had noticed the way she had styled her hair, and sprinkled in a bit of silver glitter. Long rhinestone earrings dangled from her ears. Her black-and-silver gown was strapless. She had cut off the tiny straps herself, giving it the sleeker appearance she preferred. The slinky black fabric curved down over her hips, then flared out at the bottom, and she had sewn a row of silver sequins around the hem. Though she liked the way the dress had turned out, she was afraid Ben would think it looked cheap.

Apparently he approved.

“You don't have to take a backseat to anyone, Autumn.” He smiled as he slid his arm around her waist and urged her into the elevator. “I'm glad you agreed to come.”

She was there with him, but finding the right time to talk about Molly wasn't going to be easy. As they climbed into the back of the long black limousine that waited at the curb, she flicked a glance at her escort. Ben looked gorgeous. He was wearing an Italian-cut tuxedo, Armani maybe. She wasn't that good at fashion, but she could tell it was expensive and perfectly suited his lean, hard-muscled frame.

In the limo, he opened a bottle of Dom Perignon and poured the champagne into stemmed crystal glasses. He handed her a glass and held up his own.

“To successful ventures.”

She eyed him over the top of the glass. “To success,” she repeated. She started to take a sip, then stopped, understanding his toast meant that he had begun the search. “You spoke to Pete Rossi.”

“I told you I would. He's a good man. If there's anything new to find, Pete will find it.”

Autumn sipped her champagne and tried to sound casual. “I dreamed about her again last night.”