Part 36 (2/2)
Autumn wedged a hex into a narrow crevice, then attached a carabiner and hooked her rope through it. Once the rope was in place, she slid a hand into the chalk bag around her waist, then reached up toward a thin slice of granite protruding from the rocky face, providing a st.u.r.dy grip for her fingers. She swung her leg up, hooked a heel and hauled herself up. Another few feet and she reached the end of the pitch, a narrow ledge where the three-inch trunk of a pine tree protruded from the side of the mountain, the perfect place to anchor herself as Ben made his climb up the pitch.
She watched him moving upward, the tightening of muscle over bone, the movement of suntanned skin across his shoulders, the flexing of the long muscles in his thighs and calves. A fine sheen of perspiration coated his body and she could hear his labored breathing as he reached for a handhold, then found a foothold and used his legs to push himself up.
He looked magnificent, tall and masculine, every woman's fantasy, and she couldn't help thinking how much he had come to mean to her.
She shook her head. Her time with him grew closer to ending. It didn't matter. She would do whatever it took to help him. His needs were more important than her own. She loved him that much.
The words slammed into her with the force of a blow, almost knocking her off the side of the mountain. She was in love with Ben. Not a little in love, she realized. But desperately, pa.s.sionately in love and when this was over, her heart was simply going to shatter.
She sucked in a shaky breath, then slowly released it, letting the calm settle in. Now was not the time to think of her feelings for Ben. Now was the time to think of Molly. The little girl was in terrible danger and they were the only ones who could save her.
She looked down the mountain at Ben, watched him maneuver the rope, reach down and retrieve the tool she had placed as he climbed higher. His job was to pick up the protection they used to make the climb and at the top of the pitch return the tools to the first climber-in this case, her.
As soon as he reached where she sat braced against the wall, her legs propped against the trunk of the tree, he positioned himself, providing an anchor for her as she prepared to climb the next pitch.
She checked her map, then stuffed it back into her pocket. ”At the top of this, we get to hike a bit. Give us a chance to catch our breath before we start climbing again.”
Ben just nodded. Autumn could only imagine how hard it was to concentrate when he was so worried about his daughter. But so far he was doing an outstanding job, making it appear he had climbed a dozen peaks just like this one.
The morning slipped past, the air drying, becoming a little warmer. So far they were right on schedule. There were half a dozen more difficult pitches, including the Pinnacle, before they reached the Devil's Wall. She looked over at Ben, saw that he was anch.o.r.ed and ready to belay her, and started to climb the next pitch.
Ben watched those small, powerful legs moving confidently up the route in front of him. Her skill was remarkable, the graceful movements of hands, arms and legs that searched out the tiniest grips and footholds and skillfully placed the protection they needed to stay safe, choosing the most expedient path. She was helping him reach his daughter, doing everything in her power to make sure he got to Molly before Eli Beecher could hurt her.
For Autumn there was no half way, no room for failure. From the beginning, she had been that way. She had never backed off, never given up, just kept moving forward. No woman had ever been there for him the way Autumn was and he had never loved her more than he did today. She was everything he wanted in a woman and so much more. Strong, loyal, beautiful, pa.s.sionate and a dozen other qualities he couldn't begin to name.
Whatever happened, no matter the outcome, when this was over, he was going to ask her to marry him.
He wished he were more certain that she would say yes.
”You ready?” she called down to him and he realized she had reached the top of the pitch.
He waved and called back to her, ”Ready!” Then started to climb the route she had prepared for his ascent.
Oddly, as bad as the situation was, as worried as he was about Molly, the climb was a thrill. There were times he found himself looking down at the world from a thousand feet up on the side of a granite slab. The views were spectacular, like nothing you could experience from the ground. Jagged, craggy distant peaks reached into the sky, some still topped with a dusting of snow. Deep green forested valleys spread out beneath him, cut by thin ribbons of water like threads of gleaming silk.
What he didn't like was the precious time that was ticking away as they make their way, inch by grueling inch, toward the summit of Angel's Peak.
The hours were slipping away. Even after they got to the top, they would have to locate the cabin-and pray Eli Beecher hadn't had time to get there ahead of them.
Burt Riker stood next to Doug Watkins in the front yard of the Beecher house. It was almost noon.
Last night, Rachael and Sarah had been taken into protective custody. By now, little Ginny Purcell had been reunited with her parents, who had flown into Seattle this morning for the teary reunion. The child had been emotionally abused by her abductors, but she had suffered no s.e.xual or serious physical abuse. She was with her parents again and in time, the trauma of the kidnapping would fade.
It was nice when the good guys won one.
Riker almost smiled. The Purcells had Autumn Sommers and Ben McKenzie to thank for the return of their child.
And maybe some of the credit went to the stout detective with the shaved head who had taken a chance and helped them. Doug Watkins was there at the scene today because he had been involved in the Molly McKenzie abduction case six years ago and because he had information pertinent to the current situation.
”So let me get this straight,” Riker said to him, continuing the conversation they had already begun. ”You're telling me the Sommers woman helped McKenzie track down Eli Beecher through a series of dreams-is that right?”
The man was obviously uncomfortable with the subject, as he had been since the discussion began. ”That's the way it looks. Apparently, this dream thing happened to her once before, back when she was in high school. When the same thing started to happen again, she went to McKenzie and eventually convinced him to renew the search for his daughter.”
Riker grunted. He had worked with a psychic once and had a bit of luck but nothing like this. ”Well, it got them this far so I guess there must be something to it.”
Watkins seemed eager to change the subject and Riker let him. ”When will your team reach Beecher's cabin?”
”The team on the ground-not until tomorrow at best. But we're putting another chopper in the air. They'll be looking for a place to set down or drop a team in from above, someplace that'll give them faster access to the cabin.”
Watkins nodded. ”You...ahh...said the dream part of this conversation was off the record. I don't think Ms. Sommers would want her story spread all over the media. Those guys would hound her to the ends of the earth to get that kind of news.”
”They won't get it from me. This is going to go down as a case of a father's persistence. His determined six-year search for his daughter. How he put old clues together and uncovered new ones. How his search led him to Ginny Purcell.”
”Yeah. I just hope he also finds his Molly and that she's unharmed.”
”So do I,” Riker said. He stared off at the distant mountain. ”So do I.”
The middle of the day grew hot, but they had dressed lightly, knowing the physical exertion would be enough to keep them warm. As the afternoon began to wane, the temperature started dropping. It was going to be colder than it was this morning, which Autumn thought might be good because it would keep them awake and alert.
They were pus.h.i.+ng themselves too hard, she knew, both of them nearing exhaustion, the last thing a climber wanted to happen before he reached the top. They had made it up the Pinnacle with only a few minor sc.r.a.pes and when Ben joined her at the top of the pitch he had actually grinned.
”That was something,” he said.
”You're something, McKenzie.” Leaning over, she kissed him hard on the mouth, then turned and started climbing again before he could react.
She headed up the mountain with renewed determination though her muscles had begun to scream. The good news was that they had come to a heavily vegetated slope they could hike up instead of climb, which gave them a chance to rest a bit and check their gear before they tackled the next pitch then faced the Devil's Wall.
Half an hour later, they were there, standing at the bottom of a sheer granite face with an overhang near the top.
Ben peered up at the ma.s.sive slab of rock. ”Man, this baby is a monster.”
”Yeah, you could say that.”
”You said you took a beating when you climbed it before.” He stared up at the wall. ”I can see how that could happen.”
”Some of the rock near the top may be loose. We need to be careful so we don't pull a chunk down on top of us.”
”I'll keep that in mind,” Ben said dryly.
They were wearing helmets. Autumn preferred to climb without one unless the terrain had a lot of loose rock or crumbling sandstone, but there wasn't room for error in the climb they were making. And this was a place that was dicey at best.
”Once we get past the wall,” she said, ”we're mostly in the clear. We should be able to make the rest of the climb without much problem.” Should being the key word.
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