The Summit

“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.

Nine

Autumn 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.”