The Summit. Kat Martin

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      The thought arose and wouldn’t go away. The photos of Gerald Meeks convinced Autumn further. Though as near as she could guess, he was about the same height as the man in her dreams, he was thinner and had brown hair, a gaunt man with the sunken eyes of a predator, not the warm, friendly eyes of the man in her dream.

      Also, according to the information, Meeks had used chloroform to render his victims helpless before dragging them into his car.

      Not like Molly, who, according to her dream, had been lured away by a man with a puppy.

      More determined than ever, Autumn vowed to convince Ben McKenzie to at least hear her out.

      But how to reach him?

      She was no longer welcome in his office. She could try to speak to his ex-wife, but that might involve their younger daughter, Katie. It wouldn’t be fair to a child who must have already suffered a very great deal. And Autumn believed that if she approached the family, McKenzie would go after that restraining order.

      Besides, Autumn was convinced Ben McKenzie was the link. She had never seen or met his ex-wife and she had only started dreaming about Molly after she had noticed Ben at the gym.

      What to do?

      It wouldn’t be easy but maybe if she tried again, McKenzie would at least hear her out.

      Since the gym was the most likely place to find him, she headed there first thing the following morning. She didn’t usually work out on weekends, but she needed information and made a beeline straight for the sign-in desk.

      To get into the gym, you had to flash a tag with a bar code over a lighted glass plate. The bar code reader analyzed the code and checked to see if your membership was paid up and active. Autumn knew Mike Logan, one of the staff guys who worked behind the desk. He was sitting a few feet away, inputting something into his computer.

      “Hi, Mike.”

      Mike looked her way, saw her and smiled. “Hey, sweet cheeks.” He jogged over to the counter in his white shirt and shorts, his dark hair neatly combed. The uniform was a requirement. All the guys on the staff looked like they just came off the tennis court at Wimbledon. The women dressed the same, in a white knit shirt and shorts with Pike’s Gym embroidered in black letters on the pocket. The climbing instructors were the exception. To attack the wall, they needed to wear more flexible clothes.

      “Listen, Mike, I’ve got a problem. I was hoping you might be able to help me.”

      “Name it.”

      She pointed to the bar code reader. “That machine keeps track of everyone who goes in and out, right?”

      “Right.”

      “I presume the information goes into a computer. Can you pull up a person by name, see what times he checks in each day?”

      “Sure.”

      “I need to know the days and times for Ben McKenzie.”

      “Whoa! Wait a minute, Autumn. Ben’s our landlord. I don’t think he’d appreciate someone nosing into his business.”

      “It’s no big deal,” she lied. Again. “I just want to talk to him. It’s about his daughter.” Not the live one. The one he thinks is dead.

      “Why don’t you just go up to his office?”

      “It’s kind of personal. I’d rather make it less formal. Besides, I’ve seen him here before. He’ll just think my bumping into him is a coincidence.”

      “I don’t know…”

      “Come on, Mike. Didn’t I give you a couple of free climbing lessons last month?”

      “Yeah, but…you sure you aren’t stalking him or something?”

      She cast him a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look. Everyone knew she hardly ever dated and mostly avoided men in general. She had even heard a rumor she was gay, which was definitely news to her.

      “Okay, okay. Hang on a minute. I’ll print out his sheet for the past two months and you can take a look at it. Just don’t mention my name, okay?”

      “Cross my heart.”

      It didn’t take long to figure out Ben’s schedule. He came in every weekday and never on weekends, usually got there even earlier than she did. There were gaps, of course, several missing days clumped together. She figured those days he was probably away on business. In the past few weeks, he had started working out in the evenings on Tuesday and Thursday nights.

      Autumn tapped the page. “Thanks, Mike. This is great.” She grinned. “I’ll destroy the incriminating evidence as soon as I’m done with it.”

      Mike looked relieved. He was a good guy. She didn’t blame him for not wanting to risk his job and she had no intention of betraying his trust. She studied the list, trying to decide the best approach.

      She remembered how furious McKenzie had been in his office and decided not to confront him at the gym, where there would be people around. Instead she would wait outside, hoping she could speak to him alone.

      At seven-forty-five Tuesday evening, Autumn parked herself on Pike Street in a little coffee shop with a clear view of the McKenzie building. According to the log, Ben was a man who adhered to a very strict schedule. He went into the gym at seven p.m., probably coming straight from his sixth-floor office, and though she had no way of knowing what time he left, she figured he probably worked out for at least an hour.

      Eight o’clock came but no Ben. At eight-thirty on the nose, he walked out the door, dressed in slacks and a shirt unbuttoned at the throat, sleeves rolled up, his coat and tie draped over one arm.

      Autumn set her white porcelain coffee cup down in its saucer and scrambled for the door. She caught up with Ben at the corner, stood there beside him a moment before he realized she was there.

      “Mr. McKenzie?”

      His head turned. His square jaw hardened. “You!”

      “Please don’t be angry. I have to speak to you. I know you don’t want to talk to me. I know how painful thinking about Molly must be, but you have to listen.”

      Several people walked up and stood next them, waiting for the light to change. Ben took one look at them, gripped her arm and dragged her back against the wall of a nearby building.

      “What the hell do you want? Money? Do you think you’ve found some way to extort me for cash? Because it isn’t going to work.”

      “I don’t want your money! I just want you to listen to me!”

      He took a steadying breath, let it out slowly. The set of his jaw said he was fighting for control. “You’ve got three minutes.”

      Her mind spun, frantic to think where to begin. “I’ve been having this dream,” she started. “It isn’t a regular dream, not like the kind we all have every night. This is different, so real it’s as if it’s actually happening. And it’s the same dream every night.”

      “This СКАЧАТЬ