Paranormal II: The Summit Part 7

"I want to see where you live," he said over the intercom. "A person's home says a lot about them."

She didn't like the idea. She didn't want Ben McKenzie barging into her home-her life-but she didn't see any other way to get his help. Without it, Molly would never have a chance to be found.

She was nervous as she opened the door. She loved her cozy apartment, but Ben McKenzie was rich and used to living in far higher style. Since their discussion at Luigi's on Monday, she had gone back to the library and run his name. Over the past few years, article after article had appeared in the society section, showing Ben at benefits, plays and opening night concerts-escorting some of the most glamorous women in the world. Apparently, he was wildly successful in his business endeavors and equally successful with women.

He stepped through the open door, his eyes darting into the compact kitchen with its sparkling white countertops and cheerful white-and-rose flowered wallpaper, moving past the breakfast bar that separated the area from the living room. "So this is the place you call home."

She managed a smile. "This is it. Would you like a gla.s.s of wine or something else? I keep a bottle of Jack Daniels up in the cupboard for my dad. He isn't really supposed to drink, but he's pretty hard-headed about it and I figure a little whiskey once in a while isn't really going to hurt him."

"Wine sounds good."

"Red or white?"

He eyed her with interest. "White is good for right now."

She pulled out two stemmed wine gla.s.ses, took an opened bottle out of the fridge and filled the gla.s.ses with chardonnay.

Ben took a sip and savored it slowly. "Not bad. Local vintner?"

"Columbia Crest. This is an estate vintage. I guess you figured I'd pour it out of a box?"

He laughed. "Not at all. You don't strike me as quite that down-home."

He lifted his gla.s.s off the breakfast bar and wandered toward the windows overlooking the city, pausing here and there to consider an antique Victorian clock, a porcelain figurine, a hundred-year-old green gla.s.s plate she had fallen instantly in love with and bought for practically nothing at a garage sale. The molded ceilings drew his eye, the sheer lace curtains, the floral rugs on the hardwood floors.

"The place is amazingly feminine," he said. "I have to admit I'm a little surprised."

Her posture tightened defensively. "I like sports. That doesn't mean I'm not a woman."

Those brown eyes drifted over her, seemed to warm with appreciation. She was wearing dark-gray, low-slung bell-bottom pants, a pair of black heeled boots and a deep pink sweater that hugged her curves.

"No," he said. "You are definitely a woman." His rich baritone rolled through her, sent a curl of warmth into her stomach. Autumn forced herself to ignore it and took a steadying sip of her wine.

Ben glanced into the bedroom, saw the canopied bed with its white eyelet bedspread and matching dust ruffle. "Very pretty. That's where you've been having your dreams?"

She nodded.

"Any lately?"

"Last Monday, after I spoke to you."

"None since then?"

"No."

"So you think there's a connection between me and the dreams."

"I think it's the most likely explanation."

He wandered into her bedroom, went into her bathroom and eventually returned to the living room.

"You know," she said, "it's rude to enter a woman's bedroom uninvited."

The edge of his mouth faintly curved. "From the look in your eye, I imagine I'd be waiting a good long while." The amus.e.m.e.nt faded. "You know my terms. I find out what I need to know or I'm out of this."

Autumn shook her head. "I don't think you're going to back out. I don't think your conscience will let you. Just like mine won't let me."

He said nothing for a while. "Nevertheless. Until I believe I can trust you, I'm going to stick to you like I'm your shadow."

Autumn set her gla.s.s down a little too hard, making the crystal ring. "What if I say no? What if I just tell you to go away and forget the whole thing?"

"You won't. You just said your conscience won't let you."

Autumn bit her lip. He was right-but so was she. They were in this together, whether they liked it or not. She would do what she had to in order to make this easier for both of them.

They sat at the counter and talked for a while: a little about her family, her father and what sort of parent he was as she grew up but mostly about climbing.

"You did okay for your first time," Autumn said, speaking of his morning effort on the wall.

"I climbed like a buffoon and you know it. I fell three times before I got to the top. d.a.m.n good thing I was wearing a harness."

"But you got there. You stuck with it. Most people would have quit. And you have the lean muscles and flexible strength to make a good climber."

He smiled. "It was challenging. I think I'm going to like it."

And Autumn thought that in time-if he was serious about learning the sport-he could become very good. He was strong, limber and athletic. And he had a certain grace of movement that few men had.

They finished their wine and set the gla.s.ses down.

"Time to go," Ben said, rising from his stool. "Better get your jacket. It's always cold in the evenings this time of year."

She looked up at him. He was there to learn about her but she had just learned something about him. There was a protective streak in Ben McKenzie. She retrieved her navy-blue jacket from the closet in the entry; Ben took it from her and held it out so she could put it on.

"Thank you." She smiled, then remembering he had also helped Dolores Delgato out of her expensive cashmere jacket that night at Luigi's, the smile slipped away.

Get a grip, she warned herself, wishing she had never dreamed about Molly, never managed to get herself in this position. But she had agreed to spend time with Ben McKenzie, one of the wealthiest, most desirable bachelors in Seattle.

She wasn't a fool. Ben was handsome and powerful. And with that lean, hard-muscled body one of the most s.e.xually attractive men she had ever met. She had to be careful, had to keep her distance, keep her mind fixed on her goal.

Think of Molly, she told herself and then walked past him as he held open her apartment door.

The store was posh. Two stories high with a loft that displayed expensive sports clothing. The main floor was sectioned into areas pertaining to different sports, each decorated with huge photos of extreme athletes competing in their areas of expertise: ultimate skiing in deep, untouched powder, s...o...b..arding down triple black-diamond slopes, biking, motocross, hiking, hang gliding. Climbing was no exception. There was a fantastic picture of a climber on an overhang thousands of feet in the air-stuck like a fly, completely horizontal against the magnificent mountain vistas.

"All right," Ben said, leading her in that direction. "Just pick out whatever you think I need and don't worry about the cost." He grinned. "I get one h.e.l.luva discount."

Autumn ignored the odd little flutter that grin caused and set to work, studying each piece of gear. It took a while, but it was kind of fun, the vicarious thrill of getting to buy anything you wanted no matter the cost. She helped him choose the best harness for his size, strength and level of ability. Climbing rope, carabiners, hexes, cams, as well as an ultralight tent and sleeping bag, and waterproof bags to pack all the stuff in.

Ben insisted on picking out some clothes: lightweight and durable with lots of pockets. He was carrying two armloads of merchandise by the time they left the store.

"Let's catch a cab," he said. "I want to drop this off at my condo then we'll go get something to eat."

Fresh nerves a.s.sailed her. "I think I'll just go on back home."

Ben fixed her with a glare. "You know the drill. The sooner I'm satisfied you're for real, the sooner we can get on with the search-a.s.suming there's going to be one."

Autumn sighed. "Fine, we'll go to dinner." She waited for Ben in the taxi while he carried the bags up to his condo on the twentieth floor.

"You're welcome to come up," he said, but Autumn declined and instead waited for his return.

The wind whipped her hair and the air was damp but invigorating as they stepped out of the cab in front of Solstice not far from Pioneer Square, one of Seattle's newer, currently hip cafes. The place was full on Friday night, but the owner knew Ben and they were quickly led to a cozy table at the rear of the restaurant where they each ordered a gla.s.s of wine-red this time.

"You like wine, I gather," Ben said, lifting his gla.s.s and studying the deep burgundy cabernet. It was a twelve-dollar gla.s.s he'd insisted she try. And he was right; it was fantastic.

"I got interested through a friend of mine in college. Washington has some amazingly good vineyards."

He studied her over the rim of his gla.s.s. "This friend...his name wouldn't be Steven Elliot?"

Autumn stiffened. It annoyed her that he knew so much more about her than she knew about him and yet she could hardly fault him for being cautious. "I can see your report was thorough."

"You and Steven...the two of you were serious?"

"I was. Steve moved on to greener pastures."

He swirled the dark liquid in his gla.s.s. "You like wine. What else do you like?"

She managed a smile. "I like good food-and climbing, of course-and on occasion I like to play dress-up."

"Dress-up?"

Her smile turned sincere. "Long sequined gowns and tuxedos. I don't get much opportunity but one of my climbing partners is the son of a wealthy computer magnate. His dad presses him to go to an occasional formal event. I go with him when he needs a date."

"Apparently my report wasn't as thorough as I thought. Are you seeing this guy on a regular basis?"

"I told you, he's my climbing partner. Josh is just a very good friend." Autumn hadn't noticed the tension in Ben's shoulders until it began to ease.

"All right, you like to play dress-up. How about tomorrow night? I've been invited to a black-tie benefit for the Seattle Symphony. I wasn't going to go, but-"

Autumn swiftly shook her head. "You're making this far too personal and that isn't a good idea. Besides, I'm planning to go climbing with Josh."

"We're talking about my daughter. That's about as personal as it gets. I want to know what makes you tick. I think tomorrow night-you in an evening gown, me in a tux-is a very good idea."

She was already tired of the game. Ben was sophisticated and charming, the sort of guy who enjoyed casual s.e.x and one-night stands. Autumn wasn't that way and the more time she spent with him, the harder it was not to be aware of him as a man.

She might be a failure at male-female relationships but she was still a woman. There were times her body ached for the touch of a man but she couldn't afford to start thinking that way about Ben.

"Tell me about the dreams," Ben said softly, changing the subject.

Autumn felt a sweep of relief. This was the topic she wanted to discuss, the reason she was sitting here with Ben McKenzie. "They started some weeks back...I think it was shortly after I saw you at the gym. Or maybe even that night, but I don't really remember."

She looked up as the waiter arrived, a tall woman wearing a crisp black ap.r.o.n over her white blouse and black slacks. Both of them gave her their orders: a medium-rare filet for Ben with Roquefort sauce on the side; homemade tortellini with a sun-dried tomato cream sauce for Autumn.

While they were waiting for their meals, she described in detail her recurring dreams of the day Molly had been abducted, the children playing in the yard and the little red-haired boy named Robbie. She told Ben about the man and how he had convinced Molly to go with him in his car to help him find his lost puppy.

"How old a guy was he?"

"Late thirties, maybe a little younger. Blond hair. Kind of a nice-looking man. I remember he had friendly eyes."

One of Ben's dark eyebrows went up, sending a hint of embarra.s.sment into Autumn's cheeks. "I know it sounds crazy, but his eyes kind of crinkled when he smiled and I remember thinking that you couldn't trust a person just because he looked harmless."

Ben cast her a meaningful glance. "That much is certainly true."

Autumn's flush deepened, but she forced herself to go on. "The man gave Molly this little black and white puppy to hold. He said its name was Cuffy. He said he had another puppy named Nicky but Nicky had gotten lost. He asked Molly to help him find it."

Ben's jaw turned to granite and the warmth in his eyes disappeared. "I swear, if you are making all of this up-"

"You know some of it's true. They were playing ball in the yard. I read that later in the newspaper. You told me yourself the little boy's name was Robbie. That wasn't in any of the papers I read but you told me yourself he was there that day in the yard."

Ben took a drink of his wine and she thought that he was working to stay in control. The waiter arrived with their salads but neither of them started to eat.

"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 gla.s.s 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.