Part 27 (2/2)

They talked a little more about the leasing deal as Ben wove his way through the line of cars moving along the Seattle streets, making his way toward the police station on Twelfth Avenue. The mid-morning traffic had slowed, but the shoppers were out full-force, milling up and down the sidewalks, their shopping bags stuffed to overflowing.

As the car neared the precinct, all talk of business ended. Molly was on their minds and the little girl, Mary-if she actually existed. Ben parked the car and they went inside the building and up to the front desk. Almost immediately, they were led down the hall to the same spa.r.s.ely furnished room they had been in before.

Doug Watkins joined them a few minutes later. ”Thanks for coming in.”

”What have you got?” asked Ben.

Taking an envelope from beneath a stout arm, Watkins pulled out a stack of pictures and spread them out on the table. There were five color photos of little blond girls with blue eyes.

”These kids are all between five and seven years old,” he said to Autumn. ”Do any of them look familiar?”

Autumn could feel the dull beating of her heart. Were all these children recently abducted? Was one of them little Mary? She moved closer and began to carefully examine each photo one by one. All of the girls looked a little like Mary, with the same blond hair and blue eyes, the same delicate features.

Autumn's shoulders slumped as she reached the final picture. ”I'm afraid Mary isn't here.”

”You sure?”

She nodded.

The detective cast her a final glance, then surprised her by pulling a second set of photos out of the envelope. Collecting the first set, he placed the second set on the table. ”How about these? Do you see her here?”

”Have all of these little girls-?”

”Please take a look and tell me what you see.”

Autumn looked down at the photos. Again there was the blond hair and blue eyes, a slight difference in years, but still they looked a lot alike. She leaned closer. There was something about the photo second from the end....

Autumn picked it up. Her hand trembled as the features became clear in her mind. ”This is Mary. This is the little girl I see in my dreams.”

”You're sure this is the one?”

”As sure as I can be. I've been dreaming about her for almost a week, but I don't get that long a look at her before I wake up.”

”But you think it's her?”

”I'm almost certain it is.”

Watkins let out a long-suffering sigh. ”Her name is Ginny Purcell. She's seven years old. She went missing two months ago from her home in Sandpoint, Idaho. Disappeared right out of her own backyard. There's an alley behind the house. Best guess, the guy just drove up and somehow persuaded her to get in his car. No witnesses, no one heard anything. She just disappeared.”

”That sounds a lot like what happened to Molly,” Autumn said.

Watkins made no reply. ”The rest of the photos are just pictures of kids we collected. We needed to give you an objective test. Unfortunately, you pa.s.sed with flying colors.”

”Unfortunately?” Ben repeated.

”Yeah. I'm not exactly sure where to go with this information-if you know what I mean.”

Ben nodded. ”I know exactly what you mean. But the fact remains, Autumn's ID fits in with the rest of the suppositions we've made so far. And Idaho and Was.h.i.+ngton aren't that far apart. We think the guy is some kind of sportsman. Autumn remembered seeing him shopping for camping gear, so he's probably into being outdoors. Idaho is a sportsman's paradise. He could have been there doing whatever it is he does and in the process come across little Ginny.”

”Sounds reasonable.” Watkins collected the second set of photos, all but the one of Ginny Purcell, and slid them back into the envelope. ”Could be he lives in Idaho, maybe moved there after he abducted Molly-a.s.suming any of this is real, of course.”

”I don't think he's there,” Autumn said. ”I saw him in Burlington a couple of years after Molly disappeared. And I just have this feeling he's here in Was.h.i.+ngton. Somewhere up in those mountains.”

”Burlington is the gateway to the North Cascades,” Ben added. ”Maybe the guy is a climber.”

Autumn bit her lip, the possibility running through her head as it had a number of times before. ”I've never seen him among any of the climbing groups or on any of the trips I've taken. I don't think that's it.”

”Let's back up a step,” Watkins suggested. ”Let's a.s.sume he's an outdoorsman, not necessarily a climber but maybe a fisherman or backpacker or maybe a hunter-an outdoor kind of guy. That would explain his presence in Idaho and also in Burlington. Right?”

”Right,” Ben said.

”Get me a copy of that sketch you had made. I'll have it sent out to all the sporting-goods stores in both Was.h.i.+ngton and Idaho. We'll see if anybody recognizes him.”

”Great,” Ben said. ”We've been to the store in Burlington and asked around the area, but no one there remembered him.”

”Maybe we'll have better luck.”

”Maybe,” Ben said.

Autumn could see his hopes rising. They had the police working with them now. If they found Ginny Purcell, they would also find Molly. Or at least that's what Autumn hoped.

”I'd like to show this sketch to the Purcells,” Watkins said. ”But to do that I'd have to bring in the Idaho police. That means telling them this is a guy you saw in a dream. That'll go over like a lead balloon. We've got to approach this very carefully if we're gonna get any results.”

”We'll talk to the Purcells ourselves,” Ben said. ”I've had a daughter kidnapped. I imagine they'll be willing to speak to me. And like I said, Idaho isn't that far away.”

”Good idea. You have any trouble getting them to see you, call me. And let me know if you get anymore information-no matter how you get it. Okay?”

It was obvious the detective was referring to Autumn's dreams. Getting more information that way was both hopeful and at the same time scary.

”Will do,” Ben said. ”Keep us posted, will you, Doug?”

”You know I will.” He extended his hand. ”I hope this works out for you, Ben.”

”I hope it works out for all of us.”

Twenty-Three.

”When are we going to Sandpoint?”

Ben flicked a glance at Autumn, who sat in the pa.s.senger seat as he drove away from the police station. ”I'm thinking we could head up there Friday after work. I'll call the Purcells to see if they'll agree to talk to us on Sat.u.r.day morning.”

He caught her gaze in the mirror above the dash, saw the faint crease settle between her eyebrows.

”I read in the paper the Heart a.s.sociation is having an important benefit Friday night,” she said. ”The paper listed you as one of the people on the guest list.”

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