The Summit. Kat Martin

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      Ben cancelled his late-night date with Delores Delgato, an exotic, Hispanic fashion model with the Allure Vreeland made any sort of statement?” Agency who had just finished a photo shoot down at the wharf. He had met Dee through a mutual friend when he was in L.A. on business and they had gone out a few times.

      This week Delores was here in Seattle and tonight was the last night of her magazine shoot. She had called wanting to celebrate. At the time it had sounded like a good idea.

      But after his encounter with Autumn Sommers, Ben wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. He wasn’t even in the mood to get laid.

      He walked the few blocks to his penthouse apartment on the top floor of the Bay Towers in the trendy Belltown neighborhood. He had purchased the luxury condo last year. He could afford it and as he grew more and more successful the extra security the building provided had become a necessity.

      He used his passcard to access his private elevator and rode to the twentieth floor. As he walked into the marble-floored entry, the lights of the city shone through the wall of windows in the living room. Down the hall to the left, there was a powder room and two bedrooms, each with a private marble bath. The master suite and bath and his home office were down the opposite hall.

      Ben headed that way. As soon as he walked into the office, he picked up the phone on his desk. All the way home, he told himself the call could wait until morning, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep if he left this business unfinished.

      His mind strayed to the woman who had accosted him on the sidewalk. It was her tears that had gotten to him. Either the woman was a hell of an actress, a magnificent con, or she really believed the crap she was spewing about Molly.

      He dialed Pete Rossi’s cell number and heard the man’s gruff voice on the other end. “Yeah?”

      “I’ve got a job for you, Pete.”

      “Must be important for you to call this time of night.”

      “I want you to find out everything you can about a woman named Autumn Sommers. She says she’s a fifth grade teacher at Lewis and Clark Elementary. She also teaches a rock-climbing class at Pike’s Gym.”

      “Not exactly your usual type.”

      “Hardly. I have no idea if any of what she’s told me is true. I’d appreciate knowing as much as you can by tomorrow.”

      “Not in a hurry, are you?” Pete said sarcastically.

      “Can you handle it?”

      “I’ll talk to you before the end of the day.”

      Ben hung up the phone and ran a hand through his thick dark hair. There was no use stewing over Autumn Sommers, at least not until he had more information. Walking to the wet bar, he poured himself a snifter of Courvoisier and sat down in the deep leather chair behind his desk.

      He swirled the brandy in his glass and took a drink, then felt the liquid burn down his throat and the slight relaxation of his muscles. He tried not to think of Autumn Sommers, but her heart-shaped face and deep green eyes popped into his head.

      Who the hell are you? he thought, his mind beginning to churn with questions again.

      And what the hell do you want?