The Summit. Kat Martin

guard, a bulky matron with heavy breasts and short black hair, looked down at the pages on her clipboard. “Your name’s on the list. You’re here on a special pass to see Gerald Meeks?”

      “That’s right.”

      “You’ll still have to go through security check-in just like any other visitor.”

      “I was told I would.”

      “Follow me.”

      The matron led her along a linoleum floor waxed to a polished sheen, toward a door that led to the check-in area. There were even more cameras inside and three male guards who looked as if they took their jobs in deadly earnest.

      Visiting hours ended at three o’clock and it was almost two now, so most of the inmate visitors had already checked in. Still there were a couple of beefy guys dressed like bikers with stringy hair and tattoos in line behind a heavyset Hispanic woman who was accompanied by a chubby girl of about fourteen.

      As Autumn took her place at the rear of the line, the bikers’ attention swung from the girl and they eyed her as if they had just been served a fresh piece of meat. Autumn’s nose wrinkled at the sour smell of body odor and the foul breath of the man standing beside her, his lecherous gaze creeping rudely over her breasts.

      “Nice tits,” he said to his buddy.

      “Nice ass,” the other man said.

      “Keep a civil tongue,” ordered the guard, “or you won’t be seeing your good-for-nothing brother.”

      The men said no more but the curl of their lips and their heavy-lidded gazes made it clear what they were thinking. Wishing she were anywhere but in that room, Autumn fixed her attention on the guard and set her purse on the conveyor belt that carried it beneath an X-ray machine like the ones at the airports. She was asked to remove her shoes and jacket, which also went through the machine.

      She had read in the regulations that visitors were subject to random drug tests and prayed she wouldn’t be chosen. But she only had to walk through a metal detector—which thankfully didn’t go off—and make her way to the opposite end of the conveyor belt.

      “First door to your left down the hall,” said one of the guards as she picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.

      Eager to escape, she walked out the exit door, made a left and spotted a door with a small window in it. When she opened the door, she saw that it wasn’t the main visiting area, but a narrow room that accommodated only four inmates at a time. It was set up much the way she had seen on TV, with the prisoner seated on one side of the glass and the visitor on the other.

      Three of the four spaces were currently in use. An obese woman with dirty, coarse black hair sat on one of the stools talking to a huge, dark-skinned man with earrings in both ears. There was a skinny white guy talking to his girlfriend, who looked like she was on drugs but couldn’t be because they wouldn’t have let her in.

      The third guy was talking to a man in a cheap striped suit who seemed to be trying to conduct some sort of business, though Autumn couldn’t imagine what. The entire scene was depressing and she began to think coming here was the worst idea she’d ever had.

      Then the door on the opposite side of the glass swung open and Gerald Meeks walked in. He was wearing the khaki inmate’s uniform and looked exactly like his picture—thin to the point of being gaunt with hollow, sunken eyes. His hair was a faded brown, not blond like the man in her dreams.

      He took a seat across from her. When he looked into her face, Autumn shivered.

      “Take it easy, lady. You’re way too old to interest me.”

      She sat up a little straighter. She had come here to talk to the man. She wasn’t about to let him intimidate her.

      “Thank you for seeing me,” she said.

      “I don’t get many visitors. I figured it might help pass the time.”

      “I came here to ask you some questions about Molly McKenzie.”

      He smiled, a thin slash across the lower half of his face. “A lot of people have asked me about her. What makes you think I’ve got something new to say?”

      “I don’t know…I was hoping…It’s been six years since Molly disappeared. You’ve been locked up for most of that time. I thought maybe by now you might be more forthcoming where Molly is concerned.”

      “What’s it to you, one way or the other?”

      “I’m a…friend of the family. I’m just trying to find out if Molly is really dead.”

      Dark eyes bored into her. “You don’t think so? Everyone else is sure I killed her.”

      “Did you?”

      He didn’t answer for the longest time. “It took guts for you to come. The guys in here would eat you up with a spoon if they had the chance. They’ll all be jealous when I tell ’em what my visitor looked like.” Those sunken eyes moved over her, making her skin crawl. “I bet you were a real pretty little thing, Autumn Sommers, when you were a little girl. Those bright green eyes and all that silky red-gold hair. If I’d seen you back then—”

      “I came here to talk about Molly,” Autumn interrupted, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach and the suddenly too-fast pounding of her heart.

      Gerald Meeks looked her in the eye. “I would have told ’em, but they wouldn’t have listened if I had, so I just kept quiet.”

      “Told them what?”

      “You want the truth? I never laid eyes on Molly McKenzie. I didn’t kill her. I wasn’t anywhere near her. I just figured…let ’em keep guessing, what do I care? Kind of gave me a chuckle in the middle of the night, those cops all thinkin’ it was me.”

      For several seconds Autumn just sat there. Of course, there was no way to know for sure if Gerald Meeks was telling the truth, but Autumn believed him completely.

      From what she had read, after his arrest Meeks had bragged about the murders he had committed but he had never mentioned little Molly.

      “Thank you for your candor, Mr. Meeks.”

      “My…pleasure…” Meeks rose and so did she. She could feel his eyes on her all the way to the door.

      Relief washed over her as the door closed behind her and she headed back down the hall. She returned to the screening area to be re-checked before being allowed to leave.

      As she pushed through the doors of the main building and walked out into the sunshine, she took a deep breath of clean Oregon air. Though no one had physically touched her, she felt as if she needed a long, hot shower. She couldn’t wait till she got to her friend Sandy’s house so she could bathe and put on fresh clothes.

      It was ridiculous. The facility was clean and well cared for but that didn’t change the way she felt. In truth, it was a dismal experience, but the trip had been worth it.

      Autumn was even more convinced that Molly McKenzie was alive and reaching out to her for help.

      She had to see Ben. This time Autumn had something to tell him that might make him listen. Or at least she hoped he would.

      Sitting in the Coffee Bean Café across the street from the McKenzie building after work on Monday night, she felt like the stalker he believed her to be. She had no idea what time he might leave his office, but she had arrived at five-thirty, determined to wait until midnight if she had to.

      Fortunately, Ben walked through the glass lobby doors onto the sidewalk at six-thirty. Autumn waited until he reached the corner, then slipped out of the café and followed him down the street, careful to keep her distance and stay in the shadows. She shuddered to think what McKenzie might do if he realized she was there.

      She had no idea where he might be going, but she was hoping to find a place where she could corner him, make