The Summit (17 page)

Autumn shoved past him and continued walking, pretending not to hear him curse.

Ben caught up with her in two long strides, took hold of her arm and turned her around to face him. Across the lobby, her students were gathered and waiting, beginning to notice their approach.

“We can play this out in front of everyone here or you can give me a minute in private so I can explain.”

“I'm not interested in anything you have to say.”

“I'm giving you a choice. What's it going to be?”

He was a big man and he was determined, but then so was she.

She looked at the group of climbers who watched with growing fascination. “I said get out of my way.”

“I'll cart you off over my shoulder if I have to.”

He wasn't kidding. She could see it in the set of his jaw. She wasn't about to be embarrassed in front of her students. Autumn grit her teeth, whirled and marched ahead of him down the hall, turning into a lower-level conference room that wasn't being used.

“Good choice,” Ben said, closing the door behind him. “I know you're pissed and I don't blame you. But you're going to listen to what I have to say. Once I'm finished, you can decide what you want to do. After that, we're going climbing.”

“You aren't going anywhere with me!” She started for the door but he blocked her way.

“Several weeks ago, I agree to escort Bev Styles and her father, both long-time friends, to an important event at the country club. I'd forgotten all about it until Jenn reminded me at six o'clock last night. I intended to make a short evening of it. I had no idea the paper would be covering the event and I didn't even notice when the photographer snapped that picture of me and Bev.”

“But I bet you noticed that kiss.” She started moving, but again he stepped in the way.

“I didn't kiss her—she kissed me. If I'd had a clue that was going to happen, I would have stopped her. I took her directly home a few minutes later. I didn't kiss her good-night and I didn't ask her out again—nor do I intend to.”

Autumn tried to read his expression. She saw honesty but didn't know if it was real. She raked back her hair, shoving the heavy auburn curls away from her face. “I can't handle this, Ben. I'm not like your other women. Please, can't you just leave me alone?”

He reached out and caught her chin, his hand surprisingly gentle. “I'd leave you alone if I could. I can't seem to make that happen. When I saw the paper this morning, I felt sick to my stomach. I knew what you would think, how you would feel. If you're worried I'll keep seeing other women, I won't. I wouldn't have gone last night if I hadn't already promised Sam.”

Autumn said nothing, but her heart was throbbing. She could tell he was upset. Maybe he was being sincere. Although it didn't change anything, it made some of the hurt go away.

“I have to know what's happening between us, Autumn,” he said. “Say you'll at least give this a try.”

She shook her head. “I can't risk it, Ben.” She forced herself to move away from him though she didn't really want to, which made her angry all over again. “My students are waiting. Please let me go.”

For a moment he just stood there, then he moved out of her way. She thought he would leave, realize that one wild night was all they were going to have and be on his way.

Instead he fell into step behind her. As they walked back to the lobby, Autumn steeled herself to face the others and pasted a smile on her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ben make his way to the rear of the group. Apparently, he still planned to go with them. As a member of the class, he had that right, she supposed.

Autumn braced herself for the day ahead, determined to simply ignore him.

Unfortunately, ignoring a man like Ben McKenzie wasn't all that easy to do.

T
he morning was overcast with a chill air beneath a leaden sky that wasn't unusual for Seattle. As if the weather gods had read Autumn's mood and knew she needed a lift, by noon the sun had begun to shine through the layers of cloud and the air had warmed to a pleasant degree of cool.

Josh had arrived just before the group departed and was riding with Ben and Courtney in Ben's pickup. Ian and Bruce were riding in Ned's four-door Camry. Matt Gould and Winnie Caruthers were with Autumn.

Taking Highway 90 east to Snoqualmie Pass, they pulled off on the 51 exit and drove under the freeway, parked the cars in the Alpental parking lot, loaded up their gear and headed for the Snow Lake trailhead.

The scenery in the area was spectacular: soaring granite domes, craggy majestic ridges and distant snow-capped peaks. Puffy white clouds lay just below a far-away mountain summit and the deep-green forest rose from the base of the range, climbing up the steep walls until the terrain grew too rocky for the pines to survive.

Autumn led the group a couple of miles up the trail to where it forked, then turned off the Snow Lake path toward a place called The Tooth. The jagged summit was a great all-season climb and Autumn had made it in both summer and winter, but today she was heading for an area of lower rock formations that would serve well for neophytes to develop their skills.

The idea behind bouldering was to free-climb a safe distance above the ground without using ropes or safety devices, just thick foam-rubber mats for protection in case of a fall. The craggy, low granite rocks had plenty of hand and footholds, yet there were problem areas that would prove challenging enough to keep the more rapid learners on their toes.

They had brought their climbing gear as well, and after they practiced a while on the boulders, Autumn planned to have them do some top-roping. She hoped to get the more advanced students like Ned, Courtney and Ben started on some traditional climbing: roping up and practicing the use of cams and hexes.

As mad as she was at Ben, she was still his teacher and she wasn't going to shirk her responsibilities where one of her students was concerned. Even more than Ned and Courtney, Ben seemed to have a gift for the sport. He was determined to learn and if he continued to develop his skills, he could be an outstanding climber.

They arrived at the area Autumn had chosen, unloaded their gear in the shade of some odd-shaped boulders, dug out their chalk bags and set up their crash pads beneath the rocks she had chosen as their targets. They free-climbed for the first couple of hours, staying low so that no one would get hurt. Top-roping came next: a simpler, safer version of traditional climbing where the rope went from a climber through permanent anchors that led to the top of a route then back down to a belayer.

The climber didn't have to place protection in the rocks; the anchors provided holds for the rope on the way up and down.

After several hours of climbing they broke for lunch, then went back to climbing. Autumn roped up and started up a pitch, a step trench cut into the rough rock surface that had good solid footings and a ledge with a tree anchor not too far up. Courtney belayed her, using good, solid technique, while Josh worked on a nearby chimney with Ben.

Both climbs went well and once they had safely returned to the ground, Autumn sat down in the shade of a big granite boulder and popped the top off a bottle of Gatorade. In the distance, she watched Josh rope up and start working with Ned. She thought that Ben must be with them. She didn't expect to hear the deep rumble of his voice coming from beside her.

“I wish I'd called you last night,” he said. “Explained what I was going to do. If I could do it over, I would.”

Autumn stiffened as Ben sank down in the shade and propped his broad back against the rock.

“You don't owe me anything, Ben. So you slept with me? So what? You've slept with dozens of women. I'm just one more, no different than the rest.”

He turned his head, pinned her with his golden-eyed stare. “That's where you're wrong, Autumn. You
are
different—very different. And I want to see you again.”

Autumn tilted her head back against the sun-warmed granite and closed her eyes. Ben wanted to see her. He was sorry for what had happened. He wasn't dating other women.

It didn't matter. It could never work between them.

“You did really great up there,” she said when she looked at him again. “You could be a fabulous climber, Ben.”

“Coming from you, that's really saying something.”

They both knew she didn't give compliments lightly. Ben had incredible talent and he seemed to love the sport.

“Have you heard anything from Pete?” she asked, changing the subject once more.

“Not yet. You were right—we're out of cell-phone range. I'll call him as soon as my phone is working again.” He took a bottle of water out of the backpack beside him, twisted off the lid and took a deep swallow. Autumn tried not to notice the way the long muscles in his throat moved up and down but her nipples tightened beneath her T-shirt.

“What's going on with your dreams?” Ben asked. “You didn't dream the night we were together or the night before that. How about last night?”

She sighed, returning her mind to the unpleasant subject. “I think I might have dreamed. If I did, I don't remember. Sometimes it happens that way.”

Ben glanced off toward a distant snow-covered peak. She knew he was thinking that if he could be there at night he could help her remember. Thinking that they might come up with another clue.

Autumn took another sip of Gatorade and screwed the lid back on. If Pete Rossi came up empty-handed, her dreams were all Ben had left to help him find his daughter. Autumn had been the one who had gone to Ben in the first place, the one to drag him—against his will—into the search. She was obligated to help him, no matter what it cost her.

She started to tell him that if Rossi didn't find anything, she would consider letting him sleep on the couch as he had done before, but Josh walked up just then.

“You were great, McKenzie. You've got a real knack for this sport. There's an interesting pitch just down the trail a bit. You want to give it a try?”

Ben rose from his place on the ground, dusting off the seat of his khaki shorts and adjusting the navy-blue tank top that showed off his nicely muscled chest.

“I'm game if you are.” Following Josh over to the pile of rope and gear they had left near the bottom of a talus field, Ben stepped into his harness and fastened the buckle around his waist, then attached some of the devices he might need.

They moved up the trail, but Autumn could still see them. As they started the climb, she watched Josh's clean, skillful movements over the surface of the rock. She watched him place a piece of protection, hook up his rope, then start climbing again. As soon as he reached the top of the pitch and set his anchor, Ben started up behind him, retrieving the devices Josh had placed to get them both up safely. Lean muscle rippled and tightened as he moved. The sun glinted off the perspiration on his broad back and powerful shoulders.

Autumn admired his strength and growing skill for a moment, then returned to the group climbing low boulders above the thick rubber mats. The day was almost over, the air turning chill. Across the mountains, the sun angled low on the horizon.

They would need to start heading home soon.

Autumn was glad Ben had brought his own car so she wouldn't have to ride back with him.

 

It was two-thirty in the morning but Ben couldn't fall asleep. Earlier in the evening, he had spoken to Pete Rossi about the last of the DMV classic-car owners. Rossi had finished interviewing the owners and come up with a big, fat zero.

None of the people who owned a '66 Super Sport looked like the man in Autumn's sketch or ever had any connection with anyone who did. Pete had talked to both current and previous owners with the same result.

The logical conclusion—assuming Robbie Hines was right about the make and model—was that the car driven the day Molly was abducted was registered in another state. On Monday, he would have Jenn take charge of mailing and e-mailing copies of the sketch to classic car groups around the country, offer a reward for any information that might be useful and see if they could come up with a hit.

He trusted Jenn to keep the search as quiet as possible. Since they still had no real evidence, he wasn't ready to involve his family. Renewing the search for Molly after all these years would be devastating for Joanne. She had barely survived after it happened. For a while, he had worried she might go as far as suicide. He didn't want her to suffer that kind of pain again.

Lying in his king-size bed, Ben plumped his pillow and jammed it behind his head. In the last few years, he had finally come to terms with Molly's death. Now here he was, involved again in a hopeless quest to find her.

God, he wished he had never heard of Autumn Sommers and her crazy dreams. It was probably all complete and utter bullshit. He was an idiot to even think any of it might be true.

Ben closed his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep when the phone began to ring.

He reached for the receiver, completely awake now. “Hello…”

“Ben, it's Autumn…” As if he wouldn't know. “I—I saw him…I dreamed about Molly and the other two women but it was different and…I—I saw his face. This time, I really saw him!”

Ben's fingers tightened around the phone. “Just sit tight, I'm on my way.”

She didn't argue, which told him how upset she really was. Ben hung up the phone, dragged on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, slid into his tennis shoes and headed for the door.

It didn't take long to reach Autumn's apartment. The instant he knocked, she opened the door. Her face looked pale and she was shaking and it was all he could do not to haul her into his arms. He knew that was the last thing she wanted.

“You all right?” he asked, though clearly she was not.

Autumn nodded and motioned for him to come in. “A little shook up, is all. I made coffee if you want some.”

“I could use a cup.” It didn't look like he would be sleeping tonight—with or without caffeine—so he accepted the steaming cup she poured and set in front of him on the counter. Her own cup sat untouched beside it.

“Let's go over to the sofa.” Picking up both cups, he followed Autumn into the living room, set the cups down on the antique claw-foot table in front of the couch and waited for her to take a seat. She pulled her pink quilted robe a little tighter around herself and sat down. Ben sat beside her.

Autumn raked a hand through her hair. “You know, every time I looked at the sketch I kept thinking that something was wrong but I couldn't figure out what it was. Tonight in my dream, when the blond man walked into the kitchen and I saw him looking at Molly, I realized he had changed more in the last six years than I would have guessed. Maybe he'd appeared in a dream before, looking the way he does now and I just didn't remember. Maybe that's why the sketch looked wrong.”

“He looks different now?”

“He looks older, harder. The laugh lines beside his eyes are wrinkles now and there are deep furrows in his forehead. But the thing is, Ben—I've seen this man! Somewhere in the real world, I've actually seen him.” She looked up at him with big green, worried eyes. “The trouble is—I can't remember where.”

He straightened on the sofa, his senses alert. “You know this guy?”

“No…I mean, I don't know him. I just…I'm sure I've seen him. I have no idea where. It could have been anyplace…a restaurant, a bar, the theater, the gym. It could have been here in Seattle or up in Burlington. God, I wish I could recall.”

She looked on the edge of tears so he simply reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Take it easy, baby. You don't remember now, but in time maybe you will.”

She tilted her head to look up at him. “We don't have time, Ben. I don't know why, but I feel like time is slipping away.”

He drew her closer against him and she rested her head on his shoulder. “We have to stay positive,” he said. “The dream has changed, which means it may have given us another clue. We'll work on it. See where it leads.”

She nodded and he could feel the soft brush of her hair against his cheek. Ben eased a little away. “We'll start from the beginning, go through the dream frame by frame.” Ignoring the little voice that warned that none of this might be real, he reached behind him, pulled a soft wool rose-colored afghan off the back of the couch and draped it over her legs. “We might as well get comfortable. This may take a while.”

 

Autumn told Ben everything she could remember. Molly and the other two women had been in the kitchen when the blond man came home. He looked older than he had before, had aged more than she would have guessed. She had seen that he had pale blue eyes and that they were harder now. And nothing about them was friendly. His hair was cut short and each strand perfectly in place, as if he used something to keep it that way.