Paranormal II: The Summit Part 28

"I plan to give them a big donation and cancel. The money's all they really want and this is a lot more important." He cast her a glance. "So leaving Friday works for you?"

She nodded.

He wove the Mercedes through the traffic, cutting neatly in and out, enjoying the automobile's performance and getting a secret kick out the high mileage that stuck it a little to the greedy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds in the oil business.

"When's your next appointment?" he asked, his thoughts returning to Autumn, from whom lately they rarely strayed.

"I only had one private lesson this morning. I'm finished for the day."

He smiled. "Isn't that a coincidence? I'm finished too." He didn't turn onto Second Avenue toward her apartment as she probably expected him to, but kept driving toward the destination he had in mind.

"Where are we going?"

"My place. I've never taken you there. If you want to know the truth, I liked being at your house better."

"Why?"

"I don't know exactly. It always just feels so cozy." And you're there, Ben thought. He had slept poorly the last few nights without Autumn lying beside him. But he had needed time to consider, to work things out in his head.

Now he saw things clearly, saw that whatever happened, no matter how tough it was to handle, he wanted Autumn to be with him, wanted her to be part of his life.

He was risking a broken heart, he knew. Likely, she would run from him, push him away and never look back.

But Autumn was worth the risk.

Besides, he didn't intend to lose her. All was fair in love and war and he was willing to play dirty if he had to.

Ben pulled into his underground parking s.p.a.ce, helped her out and escorted her over to his private elevator.

"Impressive," she said as the heavy door rolled open to reveal an interior done in mirrors and polished dark wood.

"I guess it is. I like being able to go in and out on my own schedule."

She was curious now, he could tell. He was a little afraid his expensive penthouse apartment would be slightly overwhelming but he wanted her to get used to it. He wanted her to accept the idea of sleeping in his bed.

He went hard as an image of the tiny b.u.t.terfly tattoo on her tight little behind rose into his head. Inwardly, he cursed. All he had to do was think of that tattoo and the blood surged into his groin.

As the elevator made its ascent to the twentieth floor, Ben slid an arm around her waist and drew her against him. The single advantage he had was that little Ms. Autumn Sommers liked s.e.x as much as he did-maybe more. And they were fantastic together.

His plan was to spoil her for any other man and he meant to start today. Ben smiled as he took her hand and led her out of the elevator into the marble-floored foyer of his condo. When she stopped and stood staring in awe at the beautiful view, he tugged on her hand.

"Come on. I'll show you around." He would give her the tour, all right. And a whole lot more when they ended up in his bedroom.

They started in the living room. It was sleekly modern, with polished dark wood, a thick ivory carpet and matching sofas. A few of the objects on the tables were actually purchased by him but most of the artwork and expensive sculptures were just there for decoration.

"It's really beautiful, Ben."

"Not exactly cozy, the way yours is. A decorator did it for me. Maybe someday I'll change it. Make it more livable."

She glanced his way but didn't say anything. They toured the kitchen, which was state-of-the-art with stainless-steel appliances and dark wood cabinets. He could tell she liked it even though the design was modern, but then what woman wouldn't? The dining room was impressive, with mahogany furniture and more great views. The guest bedroom came next, nicely done with simple lines and a few Asian accents. Guest bathroom, powder room, his study and finally his bedroom.

"That's the biggest bed I've ever seen."

"Oversized king. It's a pain in the neck to find sheets." And d.a.m.ned lonely at times. His bedroom was a little more relaxed than the rest of the house, his closet neat but not ridiculously so, his shoes out of order and a pair of sweat pants folded but lying on the floor. He liked the warm down comforter on his bed and the overstuffed chair next to the window. He tugged her over to it. "Nice view, don't you think?"

"Fabulous."

From the bedroom they could see out over Elliott Bay and on a clear day all the way to the islands. The view of a deep-blue sea stretched for miles today. The best part was that the way the building sat, even with the curtains open n.o.body could see in.

He turned Autumn around and very thoroughly kissed her.

Instead of kissing him back, she eased away. "If I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?"

"I've never lied to you. I don't intend to start now."

"Did you sleep with another woman during the time we were apart?"

It bothered him that she felt she had to ask. "No. I told you up at the lake I wasn't interested in anyone else. I just needed a little time to sort some things out. I probably should have told you."

"What kind of things?"

"My feelings for you, to start with."

"Oh," she said and glanced away, looking as wary as he had ever seen her.

"Want to know what I figured out?"

She nervously bit her lip and he knew right then that telling her he was falling in love with her would be exactly the wrong thing to do.

He grinned. "I figured out that we're fantastic in bed and though we have a lot of extremely important things going on in our lives right now, we ought to take advantage of the attraction as often as possible." He reached for her, caught her face between his hands and captured her lips in a deep, burning kiss.

This time Autumn didn't resist. She kissed him back as if she wanted to climb inside him, as if her body ached for his as much as his ached for hers. She was back on familiar ground. The s.e.xual attraction they shared she could handle. She wouldn't let herself fall in love-or at least he thought that was her plan.

If the way to a man's heart was his stomach, the way to this woman's heart was good hard s.e.x. And he was just the man to give it to her.

Ben kissed her and kissed her and had her out of her clothes before she seemed to realize what was going on. In a minute she was naked and so was he. More drugging kisses as he urged her up on the bed, onto her hands and knees.

"Ben, what are-"

"I've been aching to have you this way." He came up behind her, smoothed his palm over her b.u.t.terfly tattoo, caught her hips, positioned himself and filled her, heard her swift intake of breath, then a soft, throaty moan.

He wanted her and he let her know it, driving deep, taking her hard, pounding into her again and again. The tiny pink b.u.t.terfly on her a.s.s seemed to taunt him, forced him to fight for control. He tightened his hold and she arched her back and beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead.

It wasn't until Autumn reached a shuddering climax, her small body trembling and whimpering his name, that he finally let himself go. His muscles clenched in a powerful climax even more fierce than hers.

Easing her onto her side, his erection still inside her, he nestled her spoon-fashion against him and just lay there soaking up the feel of her in his arms. He smoothed damp auburn curls back from her temple and nuzzled the side of her neck.

They spiraled down together, luxuriating in the sweet afterglow. Then reality began to creep back in.

"I spoke to Pete Rossi this morning," he said, still toying with a lock of her soft russet curls. "He's coming over a little later this afternoon. We're going to talk about what else we can do to find this guy."

"Maybe he'll have some good ideas."

"I thought about asking Rossi to drive up to Sandpoint to talk to the Purcells, but I think we'd have better luck going ourselves." It occurred to him that in the past few weeks they had both begun using we instead of I. He wondered if Autumn had noticed.

She rolled onto her back. "The Purcells are more likely to be helpful if they talk to someone who has lost a child himself."

"That's what I think, too." He found her breast, cupped it, began to run his thumb over the end and felt it tighten. "We've got an hour or so before Pete gets here. I thought after our meeting, we'd go get something to eat." He gently abraded her nipple and she squirmed. "We can spend the night here or at your place, whichever you want."

He said it casually, as if it were a given. As if every night from now on he would be sleeping right beside her-which he fully intended to do.

Autumn ran her fingers through the hair on his chest and when he rose up over her, she guided him inside her. "I think my place would be better," she said, nibbling the side of his neck.

Inwardly, he grinned. "If that's what you want, baby." And then he kissed her and started to move.

Pete Rossi showed up for his appointment at four o'clock. He was a big man, as tall as Ben but heavier through the chest and shoulders. Autumn thought he looked like an ex-football player, without the usual mid-forties paunch. He was still fairly attractive, though he was beginning to lose his hair.

Introductions were made and they sat down at the round table in Ben's study.

"We're heading for Idaho on Friday," Ben said, jump-starting the conversation. "Watkins came up with a missing girl who fit the description we gave him and Autumn identified her as the girl she'd seen in her dreams. Her name's Ginny Purcell and she was abducted in Sandpoint, Idaho."

Rossi looked over at Autumn. "This whole thing has been quite a stretch for me," he said. "But like I told Ben, if my daughter was missing, I'd do whatever it took to bring her home. Seems to me you've been pretty right-on so far. No reason not to keep going as long as we keep coming up with leads."

"The cops are mailing the sketch to sporting-goods stores in Washington and Idaho," Ben said. "Maybe someone will remember the guy. Maybe even know who he is. We're talking to the Purcells. Unfortunately, if that doesn't pan out, we're out of airspeed and alt.i.tude."

"Yeah, I kind of figured. I spoke to a friend of mine...works for CBS News here locally. He's got a friend with a connection to that TV show, Missing. You know the one I mean?"

"I've seen it," Ben said.

"So have I," said Autumn.

"This friend-his name's Lloyd Grayson-thinks maybe we can get the sketch of the blond man on TV. He figures the producers might go for it, since it's such an interesting angle-the dream thing, I mean. We'd have to tell the whole story, though. You need to decide if you're ready to deal with that."

Autumn looked at Ben, who was frowning. His family would find out he was searching for Molly, that Ben had come to believe she might still be alive. From what he had said, his wife was trying desperately to make a new life for herself. The last thing she wanted was to stir up old grief. And there was Katie to consider, as well as what the kids at school might do with a story about her father searching for a missing sister based on something as crazy as a dream.

To say nothing of the trauma they would all be forced to suffer again if Ben didn't find her.

"As much as I'd like to take advantage of the show," he said, "I don't think it's time yet. Let me talk to the Purcells. If they recognize this guy, maybe we can get the producers to show the sketch based on the Purcells and Joanne both having seen him before the abductions took place. That should make him a person of interest at least. If that happens, I'll deal with Joanne and Katie and the rest of the family. Until then, let's hold off."

Rossi nodded. "All right. We'll wait. You go to Idaho and I'll head north. The last place this guy was seen was Burlington, right? Even if it was a couple years ago, it's a place to start. I'll travel north as far as Bellingham then work some of the smaller towns in the surrounding areas. I'll take copies of the sketch and show them around to see if I can find anyone who knows who he is."

Ben nodded. "Sounds good. Let's talk again on Monday."

At the time, Monday seemed a long way away.

The long drive to Idaho through the middle of the towering Cascade Mountain Range, across the wide swath of agricultural land in the center of the state, to the cow town-turned-city of Spokane and on up to Sandpoint might have been pleasant if thoughts of Molly and little Ginny hadn't been so heavy on their minds.

Ben took the 90 Freeway east, the fastest route. Still, the over three-hundred-mile journey left them exhausted by the time they reached the quaint little town of Sandpoint just fifty miles south of the Canadian border.

It was one of those all-American towns being rapidly discovered by tourists thanks to a world-cla.s.s ski resort at the edge of the town. It boasted a main street lined with old-fashioned buildings, many of them converted to charming restaurants and cozy boutiques, and a beautiful lake as a backdrop.

Ben got a room at the Best Western, which wasn't fancy but had a gorgeous view of Lake Pend Oreille and the surrounding mountains. Tired from the drive, they ate at the restaurant in the motel and went to bed shortly thereafter.

Autumn didn't dream that night, or if she did she didn't recall. She should have been comforted, but instead she was worried. What if she didn't receive any more information? What if something had happened to Molly?

She didn't say anything to Ben, but she was sure he was wondering that same thing. Over coffee and pastries in the restaurant off the lobby, he asked about it.

"You slept straight through last night."

"It happens, you know. I don't always dream."

"No, but you usually do when you're with me."

She sighed, raked back her hair. "I know. Maybe I was just so tired I didn't wake up."

"I suppose that could be it."

They finished the light breakfast and headed off to their ten o'clock meeting with the Purcells. Their house sat on Pine Street in an older downtown residential neighborhood lined with trees. It was an old, white, wood-frame house with a big covered porch out in front. Like the house where Molly was abducted, it wasn't far from the grammar school and Autumn wondered if that had somehow factored into the abduction.

"Well, this is it." Ben rang the bell and a minute later, Mr. Purcell answered the door. Jack, he said to call him, was a man maybe thirty years old with a bad complexion and sandy hair, stepped back and invited them inside.

"Long drive all the way from Seattle," Jack said as they walked into the living room.

"Pretty, though," Ben said, "if you like incredible scenery, which I do." Introductions were made and they went into the kitchen and sat down at a round oak table. Laura Purcell stood at the counter next to the stove when they walked in. She was somewhere near Autumn's age, late twenties, with blond hair. She was way too thin and her hand trembled as she set mugs of coffee in front of them on the table.

"I'm Autumn and this is Ben," Autumn said, hoping to put the woman a little more at ease.

"I'm Laura. It's nice to meet you."

The kitchen was simple, like the rest of the house, with Formica countertops and linoleum floors. As they had pa.s.sed through the dining area, Autumn had noticed the old-style, built-in leaded-gla.s.s cupboards. She figured the place was at least sixty years old, but well cared for and immaculately clean.

"Do either of you take cream or sugar?" Laura asked. "I've got some Coffeemate in the cupboard."

"That would be great." Autumn watched the woman moving woodenly around the kitchen, as if she were barely holding herself together. Autumn could only imagine what Laura Purcell had been suffering: the horror of losing her little girl, the terror of imagining what might have happened to her and what the child might be enduring even now. Laura finally took a seat next to her husband.

"I know what you're going through," Ben said, speaking gently to both of them. "I lost my daughter, Molly, six years ago. She was a year younger than your little girl, Ginny, at the time."

Jack Purcell's long fingers gripped his coffee mug. "I'm afraid I still don't understand why you're here. You mentioned your daughter on the phone. What does your child's disappearance six years ago have to do with mine?"

Autumn reached for the manila folder she had set down on the table. She flipped the file open and shoved the sketch of the blond man toward Jack Purcell.

"I wish the drawing were better. I wish it could be in color, but this is the best we could do. The man is blond, average in height and build. He has light-blue eyes."

Ben pointed to the sketch. "This man spoke to my ex-wife a few days before my daughter went missing. We need to know if he looks familiar...if this is someone you or your wife might have seen before your daughter disappeared."

The couple glanced at each other, then began to study the sketch, pa.s.sing it back and forth between them.

"We believe this man may have had something to do with both girls' abductions," Ben added. "He might even be the man responsible. Is there any chance either of you have seen him?"