The Summit. Kat MartinЧитать онлайн книгу.
over and over in her head. If this was the same blond child, the little girl named Molly from the first dream, maybe she was among the millions of children who went missing and were never found. Maybe she was reaching out, asking Autumn for help.
But if that’s true, why now? Why didn’t the dreams begin years earlier? So far it appeared she didn’t even know the girl. It was all so utterly confusing.
Tired to the bone and still thinking of the dream, she tossed back the afghan and headed for the bathroom to shower and dress for the gym. She needed some physical exertion, something to clear her head. Hopefully, her climbing class would take her mind off the girl. After lunch she had a couple of private lessons and around five-thirty she was supposed to meet Terri for drinks at O’Shaunessy’s Bar and Grill, an upscale local hangout that was one of Terri’s favorite see-and-be scenes.
The day passed swiftly. Autumn arrived at the bar right on time but Terri, as usual, was running a little late. By the time she got there, Autumn was sipping a nice chilled glass of Kendall Jackson chardonnay and beginning to relax.
Terri was smiling as she wove her way through the crowd at the bar and sitting at tables. She walked up and hung her purse on the back of one of the stools around the tiny table and waved one of the cocktail waitresses over.
“I’m desperate for a Cosmo, Rita. After a day like today, I really deserve one.”
“Will do, hon.” Rita sashayed away, tray propped on her shoulder, wide hips swaying, and returned just a few minutes later with the drink. Terri was a regular and always got good service and Autumn enjoyed the lively little pub as well.
Terri took a sip from her frosty, long-stemmed martini glass. “So how was your day, girlfriend? Mine totally sucked.”
Autumn sipped her wine. “My day was fine. Last night was the pits.”
Terri rolled her eyes. “Don’t even tell me. The dream, right?”
“Yes…and no.”
“Okay, tell me.”
“I had a different dream about the same person.”
“What?”
She nodded. “No kids playing ball in the yard, no little boy named Robbie. This time, the girl was five or six years older…maybe eleven or twelve. I don’t think she was a teenager yet.”
“Wow, that’s weird. And you still think these dreams are real?”
“I’m probably crazy, but yes. I think maybe little Molly got into that car and the man drove away with her, like in the dream. But he didn’t kill her—he couldn’t have if she’s older in the second dream. I think maybe he just took her off with him somewhere.”
“Maybe you’ll just keep dreaming about her until she’s all grown up and everything will be fine.”
“I thought of that. I suppose it’s possible, but…”
“But what?”
“But I don’t think that’s going to happen. I think…I don’t know but…I think Molly is trying to send me some kind of message. I think she’s asking me for help.”
Terri fixed her with a stare. “That’s a pretty far stretch, don’t you think? If she is trying to reach you, why did she wait until now? Why didn’t she send you this supposed message five or six years ago?”
Autumn hooked a curl behind her ear. “I don’t know.”
“You have to admit this is all pretty crazy.”
“No kidding.” She trailed her finger through the condensation on her wine glass. “If it weren’t for what happened in high school, I’d ignore the whole damned thing.”
Terri frowned. “The car accident…right? I see what you mean.”
“The weird thing is—what caused it to happen back then? And why is it happening now?”
Terri ignored the question since neither of them had an answer. “You know what I think you should do? I think you should go through old newspapers to see if a little girl was abducted five or six years ago. If there was and her name was Molly—”
“You’re right!” Autumn sat up straighter on the stool. “I should have thought of that myself. I’d have to make certain assumptions. I may have guessed her age wrong, so I’d need to do a spread of several years. I’ve got to assume I’m somehow connected or this wouldn’t be happening, so I’ll start looking here in Seattle.”
“It might not work but it’s worth a try.”
“It’s a great idea.” If Autumn’s hunch was right, it was absolutely worth a try.
Terri looked up just then and broke into a smile. “Todd just walked in. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
Todd was definitely a pretty boy, tall and blond, sort of the Brad Pitt type. But Autumn couldn’t help wondering if there was any substance behind that pretty face.
Terri introduced her and the three of them chatted for a while. Todd held his own. He seemed to be polite and intelligent. Still, it was too soon to make a judgment.
Autumn stood up from her stool. “Listen, I’d better get going. I’ve got classes in the morning. Nice meeting you, Todd.”
“You too, Autumn.”
Terri cast her a meaningful glance. “Keep me posted on your…research, will you?”
“Will do.” Autumn left the bar and headed down the street for home. The sun was just setting over the water and glimpses of the sea appeared between the buildings. Pretty as it was, the neighborhood she lived in wasn’t the most desirable. Transients haunted the bus stop not far away and drug deals were made on the streets, but the condo was affordable and only blocks from museums and theaters. And all of the downtown was improving a little at a time. She loved Seattle. She couldn’t think of anywhere she would rather live.
By the time she reached her building and took the elevator up to her condo, dusk was setting in. She baked a pork chop, cooking it on a rack so there would be less grease, and settled in to watch a little TV. The sitcoms were always cheery. She watched a few of those, then started yawning and decided to go to bed.
She purposely avoided the Ambien, hoping if she dreamed she might get more information, though a good night’s sleep was certainly a temptation.
Instead, she drifted into slumber and again that night she had the dream.
Since it was a good long way from her apartment to the Seattle Times on John Street, Autumn decided to phone before she made the trip. The receptionist at the Times told her that archival information could be found at the library, not the newspaper, so she made a second call and discovered that the Central Library on nearby Fourth Avenue was where she needed to go. There were old newspapers there, she was told, dating back to the late eighteen-hundreds.
A number of newspapers covered the Seattle area, but the Times was the largest. Autumn figured if a child had been abducted in the city or in any of the surrounding towns, the Seattle Times would probably have covered the story.
It occurred to her that she was a person who usually followed the news, in print and on TV, so she should have seen something if it had happened anywhere near. Still, she traveled as often as she could so she might have been out of town or maybe she had just somehow missed it.
The lady at the information booth walked up the counter. She had silver hair and wore too much powder and circles of pink rouge on her cheeks.
“May I help you?”
“I’d like to take a look through your newspaper archives. I need to search for children who might have been reported missing. I need to go back at least seven years.” That should be long enough to cover the period, since she wasn’t really sure of Molly’s age.
“All right. If you’ll