Though Meeks has only confessed to the murders of the two children whose bodies were found in what appeared to be his dumping ground at the bottom of a ravine, it is believed he is also responsible for the death of six-year-old Molly McKenzie, who also went missing in the area around that time.

Apparently Meeks never admitted to the crime, but he never denied it either. One article mentioned that the description of the man given to police by witness only vaguely matched that of Gerald Meeks, but the age of the witnesses, all of whom were children under the age of seven, and the disparity of the descriptions were a factor in concluding that Meeks was the man responsible for Molly's abduction and murder.

In a later paper, Autumn saw again that efforts were made to get Meeks to give up information about the location of Molly's body. Though he seemed to be the man responsible, Meeks never confessed and he never gave the police the location of the victim's grave.

Because he didn't kill her!

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 gla.s.s plate. The bar code reader a.n.a.lyzed 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 b.u.mping 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 unb.u.t.toned 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 h.e.l.l 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 is bulls.h.i.t. Everyone dreams."

"This isn't just any dream. This is a dream about Molly." Even in the faint yellow light shining down from the street lamp she could see his face go pale.

She hurried on, afraid he would walk away. "Of course, I didn't know who she was at first. In my dream, I saw this little girl get into a car with a man she didn't know and I was afraid for her. I thought this was something that hadn't happened yet but was about to and maybe I could find out who the little girl was and somehow prevent it."

He checked his watch. "You're time is up, lady. I'm leaving and if you try to talk to me again, I'll have you arrested for stalking."

Tears welled in her eyes. "You don't understand. I think Molly is still alive. Please...won't you at least hear me out?"

But Ben was already walking away, his broad shoulders slumped forward, perhaps against the breeze but Autumn thought it was the weight of his terrible memories.

Dear G.o.d, she had to reach him. Ben McKenzie was Molly's father and Autumn believed he was the key that had set the dreams in motion. With his help, maybe they could find her.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks, hating herself for crying. Dammit, why wouldn't he at least give her a chance?

But in her heart, she understood. She knew that every time she brought up Molly's name, the old pain surfaced. She needed proof-something that would convince Ben McKenzie there was at least a chance his daughter was still alive.

She went to bed that night, her mind still churning. She dreamed the kitchen dream again, saw the pain in Molly's face. By morning, she knew what she had to do.

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 pa.s.scard 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 h.e.l.l of an actress, a magnificent con, or she really believed the c.r.a.p 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 cla.s.s 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 gla.s.s 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 h.e.l.l are you? he thought, his mind beginning to churn with questions again.

And what the h.e.l.l do you want?

"You have got to be kidding." Terri eyed her across the small round table at Starbucks.

"I'm not kidding. I called the prison directly. They told me Gerald Meeks was recently moved to the Federal Correctional Inst.i.tution in Sheridan, Oregon. Apparently, the guy's been a model prisoner. Sheridan is just south of Portland, so it's not all that far. I spoke to a man named Deavers and he submitted my name to Meeks requesting a visit. Apparently, Meeks agreed to see me."

"I can't believe this. You're telling me this guy Meeks agreed to meet with Seattle's resident psychic?"

"I'm not a psychic. I'm not anything except a woman stuck with a dream that won't go away. And Meeks thinks he's meeting with a friend of the McKenzie family who's trying to help them gain some kind of closure. That's what I told Mr. Deavers."

"Cute...like you're the family's personal shrink or something. You'd better hope Ben McKenzie doesn't get wind of this."

Autumn swallowed, remembering the dark rage on McKenzie's face when she had mentioned his daughter's name.

"I guess Meeks doesn't get many visitors. Mr. Deavers thinks that's the reason he agreed to see me."

"When are you going?"

"I'm driving down to Sheridan early Sat.u.r.day morning. It's about sixty miles south of Portland. I'm meeting with Meeks late in the afternoon."

"I thought you and Josh were supposed to go climbing."

"I had to cancel. I think Josh found someone else to go with him."

Terri pinned her with a disbelieving stare. "So you're actually going into a federal prison to see this guy."

Autumn nodded. "On the way back, I'm spending the night in Portland with Sandy Harrison. You remember-my roommate in college? I'll be driving back to Seattle on Sunday."

Terri sipped her latte through the hole in the plastic lid of her cup. "I've heard those places are pretty awful."

Autumn suppressed a shiver. "I don't even want to know." Going into a federal penitentiary wasn't going to be any picnic but Autumn was determined to find out if Meeks knew anything about the McKenzie girl. "I have to do this, Terri. If I come up empty-handed, I'll let the whole thing drop."

Terri cast her a look that said what a crock of bull. She knew Autumn could be a real bloodhound when she was set on something. This was a major something.

"Call me when you get back," Terri said, rising from her chair. "I'll worry until you do."

"I'll let you know how it goes." Autumn grabbed her paper cup in one hand and slung her small brown leather purse over her shoulder with the other. "Wish me luck."

Terri nodded. "I have a feeling you're going to need it."