Paranormal II: The Summit Part 16

"What do you think?"

Ben's tawny brown eyes swung toward the image, the golden depths burning with a ferocity that should have scorched the paper. "So that's the son of a b.i.t.c.h."

"Near as I can recall."

"Not much to remember, just an average-looking Joe. Hard to imagine he's a pedophile."

"Maybe he isn't. Maybe he just wanted a daughter and Molly fit the bill."

A muscle tightened along his jaw. "I guess we can always hope."

She turned away from the grim look on his face. "How about a gla.s.s of wine? You look like you could use one."

"Thanks, I could."

She poured them each a gla.s.s of chardonnay and set one of them down on the breakfast bar in front of Ben. He placed his file next to the gla.s.s, opened it and took out several sheets of paper.

"This is the list of every '66 Chevy Chevelle Super Sport registered in Washington State in the years 2001 to the present. I've gone through and tracked the ownerships. Some have stayed the same, some of the cars have been sold-a few more than once."

She surveyed the list. "Looks pretty daunting."

"Yeah, but if we start with just the white ones-ermine, it was called that year-only eleven show up on the list."

"That sounds manageable. Of course, we have no way of knowing which of those cars might be the one that was driven the day Molly was taken."

"Or even if that car is registered in this state," Ben said. "But we have to start somewhere."

"We have to hope the guy still owns the car and looks like the man in the sketch."

Ben scanned the list of names and addresses that covered the period. "According to the DMV, of the eleven white Chevelles listed, eight are still owned by the people who owned them in 2001. I'll take a copy of the sketch to Pete and we'll start first thing tomorrow morning."

"Washington's a pretty big state."

"Pete's making the out-of-town calls. Since I've still got a company to run, I'm making the calls closer in."

"I'm going with you."

He didn't argue. "You've seen this guy...or at least you dreamed about what he looked like six years ago. You're Molly's best chance."

He looked over at the sketch, ran a finger over the fine lines drawn at the corners of the man's eyes. "Maybe between the three of us, we'll come up with something."

It took Pete Rossi two days to travel the distances between the four white-Chevelle owners in the outlying areas of the state. He came up empty-handed.

None of the owners Rossi interviewed matched Autumn's sketch. If the house sat in the mountains, there were no blond women inside-at least not as far as Pete could tell.

Ben and Autumn made the four calls closer to home. One of the car owners was a woman, but not one of those in Autumn's dream. One was a retired colonel, one an airline pilot, one was a nineteen-year-old boy who had gotten the car as a graduation gift. None were the man Autumn had seen in her dreams.

"I guess we start on the cars that were sold," she said as they climbed back into Ben's Mercedes after reaching another dead end.

"I guess." He pulled out the list. "There are only three more white Chevelle's listed. All three were sold between 2001 and now but we have the names and addresses of the previous owners and none of them live far from Seattle."

The first owner was an old man in his late eighties even little six-year-old Molly could have knocked out. The second owner was a short, silver-haired, bearded high-school mechanics teacher who didn't remotely resemble the blond man and didn't recognize his picture. The last person on the list no longer lived at the residence address, which was a run-down rental house in Tumwater not far from the old Miller brewery.

"Let's go talk to the guy who bought the car," Ben said. "He's lives just down the road in Olympia. Maybe he'll recognize the man in the sketch as the previous owner."

As they pulled up in front of the address listed, a simple, ranch-style tract home, they spotted the Chevelle parked in a carport at the side of the house, but the vehicle was yellow with a black landau top, not white, as stated on the DMV registration.

"I guess the list was wrong on this one," Ben said.

"Well, it's a Chevelle and we're here." They climbed out and made their way up the sidewalk to the front door.

The owner, a man named Riley Perkins, was a retired insurance salesman who had moved to the Pacific Northwest in 2002 and bought the car that year. He was vastly overweight and nearly bald, but smiling and proud of his cla.s.sic car and not shy about answering their questions.

"According to the vehicle registration," Ben said to him, "your car is supposed to be white."

"Well, it was when I bought it. Piece of junk, I can tell you. But the price was right. I bought it from a guy at a swap meet. He said he needed the money to buy a motorcycle. Talked about getting a Harley. Said he was heading out of state."

Ben held up the sketch. "This the guy?"

"Nah. He didn't look like that at all." Perkins read the description at the bottom of the sketch. "He was blond, all right, but kind of skinny and homely as a mud fence. He seemed sort of wild-eyed-you know, like he might have been on drugs."

He was nothing like the man who took Molly and Ben looked utterly defeated.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Perkins." Autumn took a firm grip on Ben's arm. "We really appreciate your help."

"No problem."

She didn't let go as they left, just led him back along the sidewalk toward the car. "Why don't I drive us home? A girl doesn't get a chance to drive a flashy Mercedes all that often."

Ben didn't argue, which showed how depressed he really was. He gave her the ghost of a smile. "Sure you can handle it?"

"I think I can manage."

They rode mostly in silence all the way from Olympia back to Seattle. Autumn had intended to drive straight to Ben's apartment then walk home from there, but he looked so heartsick she drove to her own place instead.

"You're about to luck out, McKenzie."

He turned those whisky eyes in her direction, paying attention for the first time in nearly an hour. "How's that?"

"I'm going to cook you dinner. I've got the stuff to make lasagna-if you don't mind the kind with cottage cheese instead of ricotta. Can you handle that?"

He almost smiled. "I think I can manage," he said, repeating her earlier words.

He didn't say more and neither did she as she parked his fancy car in one of the guest s.p.a.ces under her building and both of them climbed out. As they moved away from the car, Ben's shoulders were a little less straight than they usually were, the purpose gone from his steps.

"That last place we went to today..." he said as they walked toward the elevator, "...the house was in the mountains. When I saw the car had been painted, I thought for sure..." He broke off and swallowed and there was so much pain in his eyes, that Autumn's heart clenched.

"Maybe Pete will come up with something," she said softly. "There are still a lot more cars on that list."

"Yeah, but none of them are white."

"Maybe they were at one time, just like this last one."

"Yeah, maybe." But she could see he didn't believe it. He thought their lead was about to come to a complete dead end.

Unfortunately, Autumn was beginning to feel that way, too.

As promised, Autumn cooked Ben supper: lasagna, salad with a light, balsamic vinaigrette dressing and a bottle of Chianti, which she hoped might lift his mood. Throughout the meal, she was careful not to bring up the subject of their search and what they would do if the car lead faded into nothing.

When dinner was over, he helped her put the dishes into the dishwasher, then grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair.

"I guess I'd better go. Thanks for dinner. It was really great-cottage cheese and all."

"Thanks."

"Tomorrow's Friday. I'll see you in cla.s.s in the morning." He started for the door, his shoulders slumped in that way she had never seen them before. Autumn knew he would spend the evening worrying about Molly, wondering if she were truly alive and whether or not she was suffering. She watched each of his heavy movements and suddenly couldn't stand the thought of letting him ache that way.

She reached out and caught hold of his hand. "Are you sure you want to leave? We haven't finished that bottle of wine. We could sit around and watch TV."

Ben slowly turned, his gaze sharpening on her face. She could feel the intensity, the heat in those tawny eyes as they slowly moved over her. "If I stay, it won't be to watch TV."

Her heart was beating, thundering inside her chest. She had known what would happen when she touched him, known that although he had banked his desire behind a dull haze of pain, it was there, simmering just beneath the surface.

"Stay Ben...please."

He hesitated only a moment, his dark gaze searching her face, then he reached out and pulled her into his arms. His kiss was hot and fierce, greedy and filled with need. He had wanted her before. Tonight he needed her and every kiss, every heated touch, told her just how much.

She was on fire for him by the time he began to strip away her clothes and his own. She didn't resist when he lifted her up, carried her into the bedroom and set her down in the middle of her canopy bed.

He took off his clothes and stood naked, the muscles in his body taut with need. Gazing at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world. He was big, she had noticed before, and he was hard with wanting, his shaft jutting forward in silent demand.

He walked toward her, came down over her on the bed, settled himself between her legs. His mouth found hers, moist and hot, his tongue sliding deeply inside. He kissed her and kissed her, then kissed his way down her body and began to suckle her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His tongue circled the hardened tips, making them throb and distend. Making her ache for him.

She was wet. So incredibly hot and wet.

For an instant, she thought about stopping but they had gone too far and it wouldn't be fair to Ben. As her body arched eagerly beneath him, it occurred to her it wouldn't be fair to her either. She wanted this, wanted him. She couldn't remember ever wanting anything so badly.

"Autumn..." he whispered, kissing the side of her neck, the rough silk of his voice rolling over her, making her stomach tingle and tighten. "G.o.d, I want you."

She wanted him too. Dear G.o.d, she wanted him so much. She thought that he would take her, bury his heavy length inside as she ached for him to do. Instead, he kissed her again, deeply and thoroughly, then began to trail hot, moist kisses along her neck and down her body. His tongue circled her navel, lapped at her, and little swirls of heat slid into her belly. His hands sifted through the dark red curls at the juncture of her legs and he began to stroke her.

She had never felt anything like it, never felt the overwhelming heat, the fierce urge to join with a man the way she did with Ben.

She couldn't stop the words. "I need you, Ben. Please..."

He claimed her mouth again, but didn't halt the deep, penetrating strokes of his talented fingers. Sliding her arms around his neck, Autumn returned each of his bold, unrelenting kisses, her tongue tangling with his, her senses filled with the taste and scent of him.

She nibbled his ear, gently bit the side of his neck. "Please..." she repeated, determined now, eager for the pleasure that was just out of reach.

Ben didn't wait any longer, just raised himself up, eased her legs farther apart and slowly began to fill her. She was tight. It had been years since she had been with a man-and never one as big as Ben.

He must have felt her nerves beginning to build for he leaned down and very softly kissed her. "I'm not going to hurt you. We'll take this slow and easy."

But Autumn didn't want slow and easy. She wanted to feel all of him, every hard inch, and she wanted him now. Lifting her hips, she arched upward. Ben hissed in a breath as she buried him to the hilt.

"Christ, don't move."

"I have to, Ben." And so she did and then so did Ben, finding the rhythm, taking charge, pounding into her until she couldn't stand it a moment more.

Her body tightened, felt as if it were stretched to the breaking point. Then the world spun away and she flew free-her climax swift and sweet, filling her world with pleasure and raising gooseflesh over her skin. Ben didn't stop until she reached another powerful release, then a few seconds later he followed, his body tightening, a deep groan rising in his throat.

For several long moments, neither of them moved. Autumn barely noticed when he lifted himself away from her and settled on the bed beside her. She'd been so aroused she hadn't noticed the condom he was wearing until he stripped it away and tossed it into the trash can near the bed.

The sight cut through her dreamy haze like a splash of cold water. She stiffened.

"Take it easy," he said, running a hand down her cheek. "Everything's just fine."

"I shouldn't have...we shouldn't have..."

"But we did. And it was amazing."

She started to get up, but Ben pulled her back. "Don't you know it's the guy who's supposed to run for the door when it's over? I'm not going anywhere, Autumn."

He drew her into back against his chest wrapped his big body around her spoon-fashion and the tension in her body began to ease.

"We've had one h.e.l.luva day," he said. "Both of us are exhausted. I ought to let you sleep." He pressed his mouth against the side of her neck and sweet fire washed through her. "But I don't think I'm going to."

And then he was inside her and both of them were hot and moving and another o.r.g.a.s.m shook her.

Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow I'll worry about what to do.

But for now she was sleeping in Ben McKenzie's arms and it seemed like exactly the right thing.

Fifteen.

Standing at the base of the forty-foot climbing wall at Pike's Gym, Ben watched Autumn's skillful, precise attack and tried to concentrate on the lesson she was teaching instead of thinking about the hot s.e.x they'd had last night.

He'd made love to her again early this morning, then left before she was awake enough to start listing all the reasons they shouldn't have done what they did and why they couldn't possibly do it again.

He was sure that would have happened if he had stayed. So he'd grabbed his stuff, gone back to his apartment to shower and change and then headed down to his office.

At nine, he'd gone down to the gym on the second floor, certain Autumn would show up for her cla.s.s and more eager than he should have been to see her. He was only mildly disappointed when she arrived all business and barely speaking to him. Only the occasional color rising in her cheeks gave any indication that she remembered last night as well as he did.