The Summit (30 page)

Autumn pulled up in front of the station and turned off the engine. “Well, did you figure out how to convince the police to let us talk to the men?”

Ben's mouth barely curved. “No, I didn't. I cheated. I called someone who could convince them for me.”

One of her eyebrows arched up. “Who's that?”

“Burt Riker at the FBI. I told him our sources had led us to the kidnapping of a young girl in Idaho, which led us to the scene of the Vreeland murder. I told him we needed to talk to the brothers who had been arrested for the crime, that we believe they have knowledge that might prove useful in finding my daughter.”

“And he went for it?”

“I think he's intrigued. He made the call to Warren, at any rate. Since kidnapping's a federal offense, if we come up with anything, the feds will jump in. The police are letting us speak to Jed Beecher. Apparently, he's confessed to the murder and willing to talk about it. His brother, Joseph, has lawyered up.”

The police station hummed with activity, though the brothers' arrest for the murder had not yet been released. It soon would be. Autumn hoped she and Ben were long gone by the time the little town was overrun by the media.

Ben checked in with the stocky sergeant behind the front desk, who steered them to a police lieutenant named Frazier. It was obvious the man wasn't happy the FBI was sticking its nose into his investigation.

“Apparently you've got friends in high places, McKenzie,” said Frazier. He was tall, dark and not the least bit handsome. “Follow me and make it brief. You've got fifteen minutes.”

Autumn followed the lieutenant, Ben right behind her, toward the rear of the station into a building adjoining the main structure, through a barred entrance that slid open to admit them then closed with an unnerving clang. Lieutenant Frazier led them into a grim room furnished only with a table and chairs. There was a mirror on one wall, one-way glass, Autumn was sure.

“Like I said, fifteen minutes.”

Frazier left and Ben and Autumn sat down on one side of the table. A few minutes later, the door opened again and a young man—shackled hand and foot, thin with very short blond hair—made his way into the chamber.

Ben rose as Jed Beecher slowly dragged himself over to the table.

“Cops said you wanted to see me.”

“That's right.” Ben cast a sharp look at Autumn, who studied Jed Beecher and slowly shook her head.

Ben sat back down, barely masking his disappointment. “We're looking for someone,” he said. “I think you may know him. I'm hoping you might be able to help us find him.”

“Why should I?” Beecher moved a shackled foot, making a rattling sound beneath the table.

“Because your life is pretty much over. Maybe if you help us, God will cut you some slack for the crime you committed.”

“I didn't commit a crime. I just did God's will. He spoke to me and Joseph, told us exactly what to do.”

“God told you to kill Priscilla Vreeland?”

“That's right.”

“Seems to me it was God who said ‘Thou shalt not kill.'”

“He's the Almighty. He doesn't have to explain himself. He commands and we follow. Besides, she was warned—more than once. She just wouldn't listen. She was trouble from the day Isaac married her. He and my father argued over her all the time.”

“Your father argued with Isaac Vreeland?”

Beecher nodded. “He's my cousin.”

Ben reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the sketch of the blond man. “Your cousin looks a lot like this man. Is this your brother, Joseph?”

Beecher made a quick perusal and shook his head. “No.”

“Take another look. I think maybe you know him.”

Vreeland studied the sketch. In a blink, recognition dawned and his features turned guarded.

“It's not Joseph,” Ben continued. “But you know who he is.”

Beecher's shoulders stiffened. “What do you want with him?”

“Who is he?” Ben pressed.

Jed Beecher shrugged. It was clear he knew and equally clear he wasn't going to say.

Ben's jaw clenched. Reaching across the table, he grabbed the front of Jed's orange prison shirt and jerked him out of his chair. “This man abducted my daughter. Tell me who he is!”

Beecher's lips curled. “She belongs to him now. Her life with you is over.”

Ben shook Beecher hard. “Tell me his name, goddammit!”

The door slammed open and two police officers rushed it. “You're finished in here, McKenzie. Get out before you wind up in a cell next to his.”

Ben let go of Beecher's shirt. For an instant, his hand fisted so hard it shook. He took a deep breath and Autumn could tell he was fighting for control. “We need to find out who this man is,” he said to one of the officers.

Both officers glanced at the sketch. “Don't know him. Now, like we said, you're through in here. Get out before we haul you out.”

Ben reached toward Autumn, who linked her fingers with his and gently squeezed. Her heart ached for him. They were close and yet still so far away. Ben led her out of the room, down the hall and out of the building.

“We won't get any more help from the local police,” he said darkly.

“It doesn't matter. We'll find him some other way. We know he's one of them. We know he lives somewhere up in those mountains.”

“She's not even twelve years old, still just a little girl. I can't stand to think of him hurting her.”

“We'll find him, Ben, I swear it.”

Ben looked down at her, his eyes haunted. “The question is, will it be too late?”

“W
e've got to go back up there.” Adrenaline still pumped through Ben's veins. “Up to Ash Grove. We've got to find someone who knows who this man is and make them talk.”

Walking next to him toward the car, Autumn just nodded. If she was afraid of what might happen once they got there, Ben couldn't see it.

Nothing's going to happen,
he vowed.
Not this time.
His Springfield was tucked away in his canvas duffle and if he had to, he would use it.

“Let's talk to Isaac Vreeland,” Autumn suggested as they reached her SUV, Ben making his way to the driver's side this time. “Beecher said Isaac and Samuel fought over Priscilla all the time. By now he's been told about the Beecher brothers' arrest. Now that he knows who murdered his wife, maybe he'll be willing to talk.”

Ben slid behind the wheel, adjusting the seat to fit his tall frame. “Good idea. Let's go.”

They were halfway down Highway 20 on their way back to Ash Grove when Ben's cell phone rang. He picked it up from the center console and answered it. Pete Rossi's voice resonated from the other end of the line.

“How'd it go?” Pete asked. “You find the blond man?”

“Jed wouldn't talk but it was clear he recognized the guy in the sketch.”

“Yeah, well, guess what? Jed and Joe aren't the only Beecher brothers. The older brother's name is Eli. He lives in a wide spot in the road called Shadow Point. It's a few miles north of Ash Grove. I'm trying to come up with a photo as we speak.”

His pulse was leaping. “Call me if you get a match.”

“Will do. Where are you?”

“Heading back up to Ash Grove.”

“Be careful. These boys play rough.”

No kidding,
Ben thought, remembering the bloody murder at the Vreeland house and the men who'd broken into their motel room that night.

“Don't worry—I've got Autumn to watch my back.” He flashed her a reassuring smile as he closed the cell phone.

“Well?” Her green eyes were wide and filled with hope.

“Samuel Beecher's got another son. His name's Eli and he lives near Ash Grove. Rossi's getting the info on him now.”

Autumn sat up straighter in the seat. “It's him, Ben. It must be. If Eli's the blond man, it would explain why I dreamed about the murder. The dream led us to Joseph and Jedediah Beecher. Now Jed Beecher's leading us to Eli.”

“Let's hope you're right.”

Ben took the curves as fast as he dared and still keep the car on the road. Autumn pulled out the map and finally found the pale lettering for Shadow Point. “The dot's so small I didn't notice it before. Must not be much of a place.”

“Yeah, I got that impression from Rossi.”

Within the hour, they had reached the two wooden structures that were all there was of Shadow Point, a bait shop and a one-pump gas station and market that made a Circle K look like a Wal-Mart.

Unfortunately, once they got there, they were out of cell phone range.

“Rossi can't reach us.” Ben pulled up in front of the gas station and turned off the engine. “There's no way to know if Eli Beecher's our man or where to find him.”

Autumn cracked open her car door. “Let's take the easy way and try asking. Maybe we'll get lucky.”

The bell rang as Ben pushed open the door to the tiny store for Autumn. In the cramped interior shelves were sparsely stocked with candy, aspirin, cereal, milk, flour, sugar and a few other staples. There was no coffee on the shelves, Ben noticed, and no cigarettes.

Autumn fixed a bright smile on her face and made her way up to the counter toward a heavyset man with a long gray beard who was dressed in worn bib overalls.

“Hello. We were hoping you might be able to help us.” Her smile remained in place though Ben figured it took no small amount of will. “We're looking for a friend of ours, Eli Beecher? We got the directions to his house wrong. I guess we didn't write them down correctly. Would you happen to know which way it is?”

The man scratched the chin buried in his fuzzy gray beard and amazingly began to smile. “Easy to get lost in these parts. Eli's just up the hill. Take the first road to your left and keep goin'. You'll see his house on the right, around the second curve.”

Ben's heart raced. He could read the same excitement in Autumn's eyes, though for the store-owner's sake, she carefully kept it out of her voice.

“Thank you. Thank you very much.”

Ben followed her out of the tiny store, trying to ignore the adrenaline pumping through his system and the tension in his neck and shoulders.

“This could be it,” he said. Moving around to the rear of the SUV, he opened the back, dragged his duffle toward him and pulled out his Springfield automatic.

“I'm not taking any chances. If my daughter's in that house, I'm getting her out—one way or another.”

He expected Autumn to argue, to tell him it was dangerous to overreact, but she didn't. Ben got into the car and so did she. Setting the gun on the console beside him, he reached over and started the engine.

 

As the SUV rolled out of the gravel parking lot, Autumn studied Ben's profile. There was a glint of steel in those dark brown eyes she had never seen before. She could only imagine what he was thinking, the fear he was feeling for his daughter.

The hope she really was still alive.

The car climbed the hill, throwing up dust as it rolled over the unpaved road. As they rounded a curve and the house came into view, Autumn noticed the mountains behind it. They looked somehow familiar, though in her dream she had never seen them from this angle.

“I think this is it, Ben. It feels right, somehow. I think this is the place in my dreams.”

Ben made no reply, but she could see his jaw clench. He pulled the car into a dirt parking area in front of the lawn. They got out and closed their car doors.

Ben stuck the pistol into his waistband at the back of his jeans. “I'd rather you stayed out of this, but I need to know if you recognize Beecher or maybe one of the women.”

“You couldn't keep me away.”

He nodded, his expression grim. He led her up to the door and knocked on the wooden frame. The house was batt-and-board, a simple, one-story structure, painted white and well maintained. Dark-green shutters hung at the windows. Next to the house a separate garage and what Autumn suspected was Eli's workshop sat a few feet away.

They waited anxiously on the porch. Ben knocked again. A minute later, a slender blond woman, tall, with deep-set blue eyes, pulled it open. She was wearing a simple housedress and sturdy leather shoes. Autumn recognized her in an instant as the older woman in her dreams.

She forced herself to smile. “Hello, Rachael. My name is Autumn. I was wondering if Eli might be home?”

As soon as she said the name, Ben shoved his way into the house. “Molly! Molly, it's your father. Molly!”

“Who are you?” Rachael tried to block Autumn's entry into the living room. Autumn slammed her foot against the door to keep it open. “What do you think you're doing?”

Autumn shoved past her into a living room filled with handmade pine furniture and a rock fireplace sat at one end. Through the door into the kitchen, she saw the long wooden table in her dreams. “We need to speak to Eli. Where is he?”

Ben turned back to Rachael. “Where's Eli? Where's my daughter, Molly?”

“You…you must be mistaken. There's no one here named Molly.”

Footsteps sounded on the carpet in the hall. Autumn turned, recognized Sarah, watched her waddle into the room. She was even more pregnant that she had appeared in the dream.

“Eli's not here,” the girl said, her gaze wary. She nervously toyed with a strand of shoulder-length blond hair a darker shade than Rachael's.

“Where is he?” Autumn asked. Before she could answer, another face she recognized appeared in the doorway—little seven-year-old, Ginny Purcell.

“Go to your room, Mary!” Rachael commanded.

“It's all right, Ginny,” Autumn soothed as she carefully made her way toward the child, her heart squeezing at the frightened look on the little girl's face. “We've come to take you home.”

Ginny bit her lip, eased farther into the room, then ran over to Sarah and clung to her skirt.

“You don't have to be afraid anymore, Ginny,” Ben said, his gaze softer now as he moved toward the child, then went down on one knee in front of her. “You're mommy and daddy have been so worried. They've been looking everywhere for you. They'll be so glad to have you back home.”

The little girl looked at him and tears filled eyes as blue as the other two women's. “Rachael said my mama and daddy were dead.”

Ben speared the woman with a glance that could have cut through steel. “Rachael's wrong, sweetheart. They're very much alive and they miss you very very much.”

“I want to go home,” Ginny said, sniffing back tears, burying her face in Sarah's skirt.

“We're going to take you home, honey, just as soon as we can.” Ben came to his feet, his attention shifting back to Rachael. “As of now, Eli's cozy little household is finished. I want to know where my daughter is. The girl you call Ruthie. Tell me where to find her.”

Rachael's chin firmed. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Sarah ran a hand over Ginny's fair hair. “Eli took Ruthie and went into the mountains,” she told Ben.

He took a slow deep breath and Autumn realized how hard he was fighting for control. “You're Sarah,” he said.

“Yes…How did you know?”

“It's a very long story,” Autumn said gently, working as hard as Ben to stay calm. “Are you…are you Eli's wife?”

Sarah flicked a glance at Rachael who shook her head in warning.

“I'm having his baby,” the young girl answered.

Ben's tone remained soft. “Sarah, I came here to get my daughter. Her real name is Molly. Eli kidnapped her from our home when she was only six years old. Can you tell me where he took her?”

“Shut your mouth, Sarah,” Rachael warned. “If you don't you know what Eli will do when he gets home.”

Sarah bit her lip and suddenly looked every bit as young as Autumn was certain she was.

“He won't hurt you,” Ben promised. “I won't let him. Eli isn't going to hurt anyone ever again.”

Sarah still looked uncertain. “He'll beat me. If I tell you where he's gone, he'll whip me. He likes to do that. He likes hurting people.”

Ben's jaw hardened. “If he touches you, I'll take a whip to him myself. I'll protect you, Sarah. I give you my word. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Tell me where he took my daughter.”

“Sarah…”
Rachael warned, her mouth a thin line.

“He took her up to his cabin—the sanctuary. That's what he calls it. It takes three days to get up there. You have to climb the trail to the summit of Angel's Peak.”

“I know the trail,” Autumn said. “I spent a week up here one summer climbing with my dad. The trail isn't too bad, since it zig-zags back and forth across the mountain, but it takes a while to reach the top.”

“The cabin is off on a trail to the left, just before you reach the top,” Sarah said.

“Why is he taking her there?” Ben asked.

“He's going to marry her, just like he did me. Ruthie will be twelve tomorrow. Eli says that's old enough for a woman to know a man in the way God intended.”

Autumn thought she'd been prepared for this, but her stomach rolled with nausea and she had to fight back tears. She glanced over at Ben, saw the terrible look on his face.

“We've got to stop him before he reaches the cabin,” he said.

“When did he leave?” Autumn asked Sarah, who cast a glance at Rachael who stood stiffly resigned.

“Yesterday. He wanted to be there exactly on time. He plans to have the ceremony tomorrow evening, on her birthday. After that she'll belong to him and he'll…he'll…” Sarah bit her lip and looked away.

“It's all right, honey,” Autumn said gently. “This is all going to be over very soon.”

“I was thirteen when he married me. I tried to get him to wait another year for Ruthie, but he said he was tired of waiting, that she was old enough now.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. “He's my husband, the father of my baby. His dad is my mother's brother. I don't want to hate him, but I do.”

Autumn's heart went out to her. She could only imagine what it must have been like for a child of thirteen to be forced into a sham of a marriage, to have sex with a man she barely knew.

Autumn reached out and gently squeezed the young girl's shoulder, aching for what she had endured. “It's all right, Sarah. Everything is going to be okay.”