Paranormal II: The Summit Part 15

"That's right. She's a very good instructor."

"So what are you teachin' her?"

Autumn's eyes widened. "Dad!"

"I think that's her business, don't you? Hers and mine. Just like last night was your business."

Max chuckled, a.s.sessed Ben a moment, then gave him a slow, man-to-man smile. "I like a plain-speakin' fella. Good to meet you, McKenzie."

Ben nodded. "You, too, Mr. Sommers."

"It's Max. Take her home, will ya? She's got enough to do without worrying over me. Besides, I got a woman of my own to take care of me."

"I met Myra," Ben said. "She seems like a keeper."

"Took me a while to figure that out." Max winked at Autumn. "But that's just what I intend to do."

Autumn bent over and kissed his cheek, then stepped outside the room and said her farewells to Myra.

"You'll call me if there's any sort of problem."

"You know I will," promised Myra.

Autumn gave her a hug, wondering how she could have missed the deepening affection between Myra and her father, and left the hospital with Ben.

"I can't believe he's thinking of getting married."

"Why shouldn't he? He only about sixty, isn't he? That isn't all that old these days."

"He swore he would never remarry. He was a great father, but he was a terrible husband. He and my mother fought like cats and dogs. They were fighting the night she died. It was the reason she left the house. Maybe if she hadn't been so upset, she would have been paying more attention while she was driving. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten killed."

Sitting behind the wheel of her Escape as they drove down Interstate 5, Ben flicked her a sideways glance. "You don't think the accident was your father's fault, do you?"

It was a question she'd asked herself more than once. "I guess I did for a while. Then I realized it might have happened anyway. Maybe some other night or a year down the road, or something else might have happened."

"That's right. There are lots of maybes in the world. Maybe if I'd been home the afternoon Molly was abducted instead of down at the office working, she would still be here. But it was a workday, just like any other. There was no way to predict what would happen."

"No...I guess there never is." She looked over at Ben, whose vision remained on the road as he continued toward the city. Both of them were tired and unkempt and she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten.

"I talked to Pete Rossi this morning," Ben said. "I called him from the hospital. Pete's got the information we need on those car owners."

"How many are there?"

"According to the Washington State DMV, thirty-three."

"You still don't think we should go to the police? If the man who took Molly still owns the car, she might be living right there in his house. The police could interview the car owners faster than one man working alone. Once I've got that sketch completed, they'll know who to look for."

"First, the police department isn't about to expend that kind of manpower without more to go on than a boy who might have remembered the make of a car he saw when he was seven years old and a woman who saw the kidnapper in her dreams. Second, if the cops get involved, the guy might grab Molly and bolt before we even get close."

He caught her eye in the mirror. "But we do need that sketch. Pete's got an artist lined up for this afternoon, if you think you can make it."

"I'll make it. What time?"

"Three o'clock at your apartment."

"I'll be there."

They drove the rest of the way into the city without much more conversation. Autumn was exhausted and Ben's mind was on Molly and the DMV list Pete had retrieved for him.

They had almost reached the exit for the downtown area when his deep voice cut through the silence.

"I've been thinking about our search. In your dream, you see Molly in a house in the mountains and there are two other blond women with her."

"That's right. Are you thinking that one of the addresses on the DMV list might wind up being the house in the mountains or one of the women might come to the door or something?" She had considered that herself.

Ben nodded. "I'll be working on the list with Pete. I'll make sure he has that information. If anything fits, we'll talk to the people ourselves."

"With school out for the summer, I've got a lot of extra time. I could make some of those calls. And I'm sure I'd recognize the guy or the women if I saw them."

"If the man still has Molly, he could be dangerous. No way I'm letting you go on your own. It would be great if you came with me though. You might pick up something I miss."

She could handle the calls by herself, she was sure, but she remembered Ben's protective streak and she could see by the set of his jaw that he wasn't going to cave on this. His hopes were building, she realized. He was starting to believe they might actually find his daughter.

Autumn looked over at Ben. He was talking about Molly as if she were alive. She wasn't sure when he'd begun to believe that might be so, but it made her chest feel tight.

G.o.d, what if I'm wrong and Molly is dead?

She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to think about it.

"We haven't talked about last night," Ben said softly, signaling then easing the car onto the off-ramp leading downtown. With his unshaven jaw and dark, unkempt hair, he looked like he ought to be riding a Harley instead of driving a hybrid. She ignored a little shiver of awareness, tried to block the memory of heated kisses and naked bodies and worked to sound nonchalant.

"What's there to talk about? I told you it was a bad idea for you to spend the night and I was right."

"It wasn't a bad idea. Making love was the best idea either of us has had since all of this craziness started."

"It's not going to happen, Ben. It was a case of temporary insanity on my part. If you need someone to satisfy your s.e.xual appet.i.te, call Delores Delgato."

He slammed on the brakes so hard and swerved toward the curb so fast the seat belt jerked across her chest.

"Dammit, I don't need someone to satisfy my appet.i.te. Can't you understand-it's you I want, not Delores Delgato. It's that amazing body of yours that turns me on, that crazy little pink b.u.t.terfly that makes me want to drag you into bed and not let you out until both of us are too exhausted to move."

Autumn stared into his angry face-too stunned to speak.

"Is that understood?"

She swallowed and nodded.

"All right then." He put the car back in drive and carefully pulled out into the morning traffic. Autumn still said nothing, but her heart was thumping, trying to pound its way out of her chest.

Was it possible Ben felt more for her than just l.u.s.t?

Even if it were true, he wasn't the kind of man to be happy with one woman for any length of time.

And what about her?

G.o.d in heaven, what did she feel for him?

Fourteen.

After her sleepless night in Burlington and the drive back home with Ben, Autumn missed her Wednesday-morning climbing cla.s.s. Earlier, she had phoned Josh from the hospital, explained the situation with her dad and asked him to fill in for her.

Like the good friend he had been since she met him, Josh agreed. "Just let me know if you need me to do anything else," he'd said.

"Thanks, Josh."

"Are we still planning to take your cla.s.s on that bouldering trip on Sat.u.r.day?"

"Are you kidding? I think they'd go without me if I tried to back out."

"Good. I'll see you then."

The Fourth of July weekend was coming up and the cla.s.s was ready for its first outing. Plans had been made and she wasn't about to disappoint her students. She wasn't sure whether Ben would be going but she found herself hoping he would. He was a very good student, but he needed to get actual climbing experience out-of-doors.

She was thinking about the trip when Ben drove her little Ford up in front of his Bay Towers apartment. He shoved the car into park and got out, then waited while Autumn rounded the car and slid behind the wheel.

"I left my overnight bag at your condo last night. I'll come by later and pick it up."

She didn't want to think what the consequences of that might be. "Are you seeing Pete Rossi this morning?"

"One o'clock this afternoon. And don't forget your three o'clock meeting with the sketch artist."

"I won't forget."

"I'll bring the DMV info over when I come to get my stuff."

She couldn't think of a reason to dissuade him. And she wanted to see what was on those lists as much as he did.

He stood next to the rolled-down window of the car as she snapped her seat belt in place.

"Grab a nap if you can," he said. "You didn't get much sleep last night. I'll call you later."

As she nodded and opened her mouth to say good-bye, she felt his hands sliding into her hair and his palms cupping the back of her head. Then he ducked his head through the window and settled his mouth over hers. It was a long, deep, very thorough kiss and by the time he let her go, she was trembling.

"It isn't a bad idea," he said softly. "It's a very good idea, Autumn." And then he turned and walked away.

For several long moments, Autumn just sat there, her hands shaking too much to put the car into gear. She took a steadying breath, shoved the gearshift into drive and pulled out into traffic. By the time she drove the short distance home, she was feeling more in control-more determined not to let her attraction to Ben convince her to do something she was sure to regret.

Autumn showered and changed into fresh clothes, rescheduled the single private session she had that afternoon for the following day, then took the nap Ben had suggested.

The sketch artist arrived at ten after three, a young, part-Hispanic man named Jorge Johnson with dark skin and very white teeth. He was a few years older than Autumn and once they got started, she could tell he knew what he was doing.

"Close your eyes," he said. "Sometimes that helps. You might be able to see his face more clearly."

She did as he asked, answered each of his questions.

A round face or more square? How are his eyebrows arched? Are they thin or thick? What is the shape of his eyes? What about his lips?

It took almost two hours to get the sketch done correctly, at least as accurate an image as a dream could provide. It hadn't occurred to her how unclear the man's face actually was until she tried to describe him. She didn't even know the color of his eyes and aside from the blond hair that didn't show in the black and white sketch, the face she had described looked fairly average.

"No tattoos?" Jorge asked. "No distinguishing marks of any kind? A scar, maybe? Or a birthmark?"

She only shook her head. "Somehow he seemed more distinct in my memory. Someone you would remember, but he doesn't look that way here."

"Maybe we've got something wrong."

She bit her lip, studying the image they had worked over all afternoon. "I don't think so." The drawing looked right, yet she couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.

Jorge finished the sketch, then neatly penned the words: Caucasian, blond, approximately five-foot-nine to five-foot-eleven, medium build, late thirties to mid-forties.

"I'll have some copies made," he said, "and make sure Mr. McKenzie gets one and also Pete Rossi."

"Why don't you leave the sketch here? There's a Kinko's two blocks down and Ben is coming over sometime tonight."

"If that's what you want." The young artist took the sheet of paper off his easel and set it on top of the counter. "Let me know if you think of something that doesn't look quite right and I'll change it for you."

"I will, Jorge. Thanks."

For the next half hour, Autumn stared at the picture, trying to think why the man looked different in the sketch than in her dream. Whatever it was, it was subtle enough that she couldn't figure it out. The picture would have to do, at least for the present.

It was early evening when Ben called and Autumn hated the way his deep voice made her stomach flutter. He arrived at her apartment a little after seven, as soon as he could get away from work. He had changed into jeans, a yellow, short-sleeved pullover and a pair of brown loafers. He looked tired, his dark hair less than perfectly combed. A slight frown creased his forehead.

"Tough day?" she asked as he walked through the door. He was carrying a manila file, probably the list of registered vehicle owners.

"A-1's got a new trick," Ben said, speaking of his sporting goods compet.i.tor. "They're trying to lease that old building down in the Pioneer Square district, right across from our store. Christ, those guys are a pain in the a.s.s."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet. Whatever it is, I'm not going to sell them my stores."

But it was obvious he was worried. She knew he'd worked hard to build his company. He didn't want to give it up and she didn't blame him.

She reached over and plucked the sketch up off the counter. She'd gone to Kinko's and had three copies of the original made, then had smaller prints made, reduced from the larger one.