.

      To those who attack the mountains,

       who live for the joy of ascending a peak,

       live for the challenge, the thrill of conquest.

       And to those among us who fight so hard

       to protect and preserve the last wild places

       in this magnificent land God has given us.

       Keep up the fight!

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Chapter Twenty-Three

      Chapter Twenty-Four

      Chapter Twenty-Five

      Chapter Twenty-Six

      Chapter Twenty-Seven

      Chapter Twenty-Eight

      Chapter Twenty-Nine

      Chapter Thirty

      Chapter Thirty-One

      Chapter Thirty-Two

      Epilogue

      One

      Autumn Sommers tossed and turned, an icy fear creeping over her. Gooseflesh rose over her skin and moisture popped out on her forehead at the vivid, fightening images expanding into the corners of her mind.

      A little girl raced across the freshly mown front lawn of her suburban home, laughing as she played kickball with her friends—a child five or six years old with delicate features, big blue eyes and softly curling long blond hair.

      “Get the ball, Molly!” a little red-haired boy shouted. All of the children were around the same age.

      But Molly’s curious blue eyes were fixed on the man standing on the sidewalk holding a fuzzy black-and-white puppy. Ignoring the ball, which rolled past her short legs into the shrubs at the edge of the yard, she hurried toward the man.

      “Molly!” Angry, the little boy raced after the ball, picked it up and gave it a sturdy kick back toward the other children, who squealed with delight and chased after it.

      Molly saw only the adorable little puppy.

      “You like Cuffy?” the man asked as she reached up to pet the dog with gentle, adoring strokes. “I have another puppy just like him. His name is Nicky, but somehow he got lost. I was hoping you might help me find him.”

      Lying in bed, Autumn shifted restlessly beneath the covers. “No…” she muttered, but the little girl couldn’t hear her. She moved her head from side to side, trying to warn the child not to go with the man, but little Molly was already walking away, the puppy held snuggly in her arms.

      “Don’t…go…” Autumn whispered, but the little girl just kept walking. Still clutching the puppy, the child climbed into the car and the man closed the door. He made his way to the driver’s side, slid behind the wheel and started the engine. An instant later, the vehicle rolled quietly down the street.

      “Molly!” shouted the red-haired boy, running toward the disappearing auto. “You aren’t supposed to go off with strangers!”

      “Molly!” One of the girls clamped her small hands on her hips. “You’re not supposed to leave the yard!” She turned to the red-haired boy. “She’s really gonna be in trouble.”

      Worried now, the boy stared down the empty tree-lined street. “Come on! We’ve got to go tell her mom!” The children started running toward the pathway that led to the house.

      When the boy reached up and slammed the knocker down hard on the door, Autumn awakened from the dream.

      Her heart was thundering in her chest. Staring up at the ceiling, she blinked several times as the dream slipped away. Then she dragged in a couple of calming breaths; the dream was over. Yet she remembered it clearly and was still unnerved by what she had seen.

      With a sigh, Autumn glanced at the glowing red numbers on the digital clock beside her bed. It was almost 6:00 a.m., her usual time to get up. She was a fifth-grade schoolteacher at Lewis and Clark Elementary, though the summer break had just started and she was off work until the first of September. She punched off the alarm before it buzzed and swung her legs to the side of the bed.

      Grabbing her quilted pink robe from the foot of the bed, she raked back her short auburn hair. It was naturally wavy; she only had to shower and towel herself dry and her hair fell into soft russet curls around her face. For her busy athletic lifestyle it suited her perfectly.

      Autumn thought of the dream as she headed for the bathroom of her twelfth-floor condo. Were the images she had seen a result of something she had watched on TV? Maybe something she had read in the newspapers? And if they were, why had she experienced the same dream three nights in a row?

      The shower beckoned, steam rising tantalizingly up inside its glass doors. She stepped beneath the soothing spray, then spent several minutes soaping and washing her hair, indulging herself in the warm, caressing water.

      A few more minutes spent in front of the mirror to apply a light touch of make-up and fluff out her hair, then she headed back into the bedroom to dress for the day. In jeans and a T-shirt, she went into the living room, a cozy, sunny area with sliding glass doors at one end leading out onto a balcony overlooking downtown Seattle.

      With her father’s help, she had purchased the condo five years ago, just before real estate values had gone completely out of sight. She would have preferred one of the small Victorian homes near the Old Town district, but the condo was all she could really afford.

      As a compromise to living a high-rise lifestyle, she had furnished the interior with antiques and hung lacy curtains at the windows. She had pulled up the carpet in the living room and replaced it with hardwood floors, then covered them with floral rugs and painted one of the walls a soft shade of rose. The bedroom was done in a floral print and she had bought a canopy bed.

      The apartment was homey, nothing like the house in her dream, which, she had noticed last night, appeared to be a large custom-built, beige stucco tract home with fancy brick trim. She had only gotten a glimpse or at least remembered only enough to get the feeling the area was fairly exclusive, the children nicely dressed and obviously well cared for.

      Autumn sighed as she grabbed her purse and headed for the elevator in the hall. She was meeting her best friend, Terri Markham, at Starbucks for coffee before she headed over to her summer job at Pike’s Gym. One of the things she liked best about living in the city was that everything was in walking distance: museums, theaters, libraries and dozens of restaurants and cafés.

      The grammar school where she taught was only a few blocks away, the gym just