The Summit (19 page)

“Look, Terri. The last time I had a fling with a guy, it hurt like hell when it was over. I'm not able to keep my distance from a man the way you are. In order to sleep with him, I have to have feelings for him. The more we're together, the more those feelings grow. Then he takes a hike and I'm off the deep end.”

“What if he doesn't?”

“Doesn't what?”

“Doesn't take a hike? What if he really cares for you? It's not impossible, you know.”

Autumn shook her head. “It wouldn't work. Sooner or later, he'd get bored. He'd want to see other women and I couldn't handle it.”

Terri said nothing for several seconds. “You know, Autumn, your old man really screwed you up when it comes to men.”

Autumn sighed. “Maybe…I don't know. I just know I have to keep my distance.”

Which was easy to say and nearly impossible to do. She thought of Ben constantly, replayed the single night she had spent in bed with him a hundred times. And ached to do it again. Every night when he came to the house it was all she could do to leave him on the sofa and go to bed alone.

“What about you?” she asked Terri, hoping to lighten the mood. “Anything going on with
your
love life?”

“Nothing particularly exciting.” Terri casually stirred the swizzle stick in her drink. “I ran into Josh Kendall the other day. He was with a girl named Courtney Roland. I guess she's in your climbing class.”

“Yeah, she is. She's getting to be a darned good climber. She was with Josh?”

She nodded. “Josh introduced us. She seemed like a nice enough person.”

Autumn smiled. “I had a feeling Courtney was interested in Josh. She rode in the car with him and Ben the day we went climbing. They've got a lot in common. I think she'd be great for him.”

Terri stirred her drink. “Maybe…”

They talked a little while longer, about nothing in particular and thankfully not about Ben, then decided to head down the block to Tony's for pizza. Autumn wasn't seeing Ben tonight. She'd seen him this morning in class but not after. And she didn't intend to see him tonight or tomorrow. Since last Saturday, she had dreamed exactly the same dream every night. Nothing had changed, nothing new had turned up when Ben had questioned her afterward and she was exhausted from lack of sleep.

Hoping she might be able to rest the entire night through, she had asked Ben not to come over and he had grudgingly agreed. Maybe it was the dark circles under her eyes that had convinced him.

Whatever the reason, as soon as she and Terri finished their pizza, Autumn headed home.

Unfortunately, even without Ben there she had trouble falling asleep. In the middle of the night, she dreamed the same dream and awakened in a sweat. It took an hour to get back to sleep. Once she did, it seemed like her eyes had barely closed before the alarm clock awakened her.

She was yawning, padding around the apartment in her robe when the phone rang.

It was Ben.

 

“Hi, baby. I didn't wake you, did I?”

A warm little shiver went through her. She hated when he called her that. And she loved it. “I've been awake a while.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

“Some. I dreamed, but it was the same as before.”

“I really didn't plan to call you today, but something's come up and I need your help.”

Her fingers tightened around the phone. “You've found something new?”

“I told you Joanne recognized the guy in the original drawing?”

“Yes, I've been working on the list of places I might have seen him—particularly anything to do with sports or sporting events—but so far I've come up with zip.”

“Well, it got me to thinking…I'll tell you about it when I see you. By the way, Jorge brought over the updated sketch. I can see what you mean about the guy looking different.”

“He doesn't look so nice anymore.”

“That's for sure. Listen, Autumn, I need you to go with me over to Bainbridge Island. It might be an overnight trip so pack a bag. What time can you be ready?”

She only hesitated a moment. They were in this together and finding Molly was all that mattered. “I'm finished early today. Only a couple of private lessons. Is noon okay?”

“Perfect. You don't get seasick, do you? Never mind, I've got some patches on the boat. I'll see you at noon.”

“Wait a minute—”

But Ben had already hung up. He had new information, he said. She should bring an overnight bag. But why would he be taking her on a boat?

A funny little shiver rose in the pit of her stomach just thinking that she would be seeing him after all, maybe spending the night with him. Crap, the last thing she wanted was to spend more time with Ben. Still, if he had uncovered new information, she wanted to know what it was.

Autumn sighed as she headed for the bathroom to shower and get ready for her lessons. Silently, she cursed the fates for intertwining her life with Ben's.

 

Ben buzzed the intercom in the lobby of her apartment exactly at twelve o'clock. He came upstairs, helped her slip a light jacket over the pale-blue sweater she wore, then took her overnight bag out of her hand and escorted her back downstairs. He had impeccable manners, which made her wonder about his family and where he had come from. She told herself not to ask. The less she knew about Ben, the better.

When they reached the lobby, Ben held open the heavy glass door and they stepped out onto the sidewalk. A town car waited out front to take them down to the dock where Ben kept his boat, and they slid into the deep leather backseat.

As soon as the car pulled away from the curb, Autumn turned to Ben. “All right, so tell me what's going on.”

Ben leaned over and lightly kissed her lips. “I missed you, baby.” Before she had time to reply, he started talking as if nothing unusual had occurred.

“After my conversation with Joanne, I got to thinking. We know what this guy looks like, but not a whole lot more about him. I decided to make a call to a friend of mine—Lee Walker. He works at the FBI.”

“The FBI? I thought you weren't ready to involve the police.”

“I'm not—at least not in the way you're thinking. In high school, Lee and I played varsity football together. There was a time he was my best friend. After graduation, I went off to school at the University of Michigan and Lee went to Ohio State. Over the years, we kind of lost touch, but Lee called when he heard about Molly and offered to help in any way he could. Yesterday, I phoned him to ask if he could put me in touch with an FBI profiler.”

“A profiler? Like on TV?”

He nodded. “I did a little research. What they do is called criminal investigative analysis. Profilers look at all the evidence available, either at the various crime scenes or by going through police files. They put the pieces of the puzzle together and come up with a personality profile of the person involved in the crime.”

“I thought profilers were used to find serial killers.”

“They are. But they also help on individual homicides, rapes, arson, bombings, even extortion.”

“And apparently they also work on child abductions.”

“Sometimes they do, though they didn't use one on Molly's case. Lee says statistically most kidnappers either murder their victims or set them free within the first seventy-two hours. Since we're assuming Molly is still alive, I'm hoping this guy, Riker, can give us a little more insight into the kind of person the blond man might be.”

“This is a really good idea, Ben.”

“Lee says out of thirteen-thousand FBI agents, there are only forty full-time profilers. We got lucky. One of them is currently on Bainbridge Island working on a homicide. His name's Burt Riker. Lee said Riker was swamped but if we could get there, he'd make room for us, either this afternoon or tomorrow morning. I figured if we took the boat, we'd have a place to stay while we waited.”

The town car continued through traffic, weaving its way along Magnolia Boulevard toward the marina. The vehicle rolled to a stop and the driver, skinny, young and brown-haired, opened the rear passenger door.

“Thanks, Ted,” Ben said as they climbed out. “I'll give you a call when we need a ride back.” Leaving either of his cars parked down at the dock apparently wasn't something Ben wanted to do.

“No problem, Mr. Mac.”

Ben grabbed his overnight bag along with Autumn's and a leather briefcase she hadn't noticed before. They started toward the marina, Ben using his key to unlock the big steel gate, then headed down the gangway to where the boats were moored. He stopped at the stern of a sleek white cabin cruiser with the name
Katydid
painted on the stern.

“I've owned a boat for years,” Ben said. “This one's a newer, larger version of the Riviera I had before. You like boats?”

“Love 'em. My dad and I used to go fishing in the sound.” With Ben's help, Autumn climbed aboard. “Of course the motorized skiff we rented wasn't anything like this.”

To say the least.
The
Katydid
was gorgeous, all white and aqua-blue leather, lots of glass and a stateroom lined with teak wood built-ins. The bathroom—head—was big enough for both a shower and tub.

There was another stateroom with its own smaller bath she saw, and felt a ridiculous pang of regret. Ben was a gentleman. He hadn't brought her there to seduce her—not unless she wanted him to—and she couldn't afford to let that happen.

“Let's go up top and start the engines.” He cast her a look. “I guess if you fished with your dad, you don't get seasick.”

“Not unless it's really stormy, but thanks for asking.”

They climbed a ladder that led to the outside steering station, which was enclosed in clear Plexiglas to keep out the wind but could be unzipped completely when the weather was good.

It was good today, cool though, so Ben unzipped and rolled back a couple of panels and left the others down.

“How long will it take to get to the island?”

“Less than an hour. I've got a friend with a private dock he lets me borrow. He also keeps a car there for his guests to use.”

“Sounds like a pretty good friend.”

Ben made no reply and it occurred to her that maybe this
friend
was a female. Autumn didn't like the knot that curled in her stomach.

On the top deck of the boat, she sat down next to him. Ben fired up the engines and began to maneuver the big boat out of its slip. As he did everything else, he made it look easy, steering past far bigger yachts, easing by row after row of sail and power boats. It was a lovely day, the crisp sea air tinged with the smell of fish and seaweed and damp, salty spray.

As promised, it took less than an hour to reach the cove on Bainbridge Island where Ben planned to dock his boat. Bainbridge wasn't large, only about twelve miles long and four miles wide. It was lovely, though. Lush with pines and thick-trunked deciduous trees whose branches spread over the roads.

As the boat pulled into the cove, she saw that the inlet lay below a sprawling gray, wood-and-stone house hidden among a dense grove of trees.

“My my, very impressive. So who does this place belong to?”

“Charlie Evans.”

“The guy who gives the stock tips on TV?”

“That's him. Unfortunately, he's thinking of selling.”

“There goes your dock.”

“Yeah…unless I'm the one who buys it.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you seriously considering it?”

Ben slanted her a glance. “I don't know. It never really occurred to me until now.”

He maneuvered the boat into one of three slips in the cove and Autumn tossed the rubber fenders over the side, jumped off and secured the line around the cleats at both ends of the dock.

Ben turned off the engines and came down the ladder to join her. “Anyone told you, you make an excellent first mate?”

“No, but maybe I'll keep an eye out for a job if my current position doesn't pan out.”

Ben laughed. “Well, you climbers do know your knots.” Learning to tie a rope properly was an important skill for a climber—one that might make the difference between life or death.

Ben pulled out his cell phone, dialed a number he had previously stored, and asked for Burt Riker. “This is Ben McKenzie. Riker's expecting my call.” He spoke for several moments, gave his number to the person on the other end of the line, then disconnected. “Riker's out at the crime scene. They don't expect him back until late. He's got my number. Hopefully, he'll call.”

“So what do we do in the meantime?”

The corner of Ben's mouth edged up. “I can think of some very interesting ways to spend the afternoon, sweetheart, but I suppose you'd rather take a drive around the island.”