Gingerbread Man Page 12

  Doris's eyes flew open, and she blinked at her daughter. "What's wrong, Holly? My goodness, hon, you look like you've seen a ghost."

  "You ... you're okay." Holly sank back onto her heels, her hand still clasping her mother's shoulder. "You're okay."

  "Well, of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be? You're the one I've been worried about."

  "I... the door. The front door. Was open, and ..." Holly still held the poster in one hand. She drew that hand downward slowly, slid the sheet of paper underneath her blouse, so her mother wouldn't see it.

  "It was?" Doris sat up the rest of the way, frowning toward the door. "It was open?"

  "Yeah, it was."

  "Well, of all the... I'm sure it was closed when I curled up here." Then she gave her head a shake and smiled. "Hello, Vince."

  "Hello. Doris. So, you don't know how the door got open?" He came up behind where Holly was crouching. She straightened, suddenly embarrassed by her instant and apparently needless panic.

  "Well, no. I have no idea," her mother was saying. "I... oh, I'll bet I know! It was probably Bethany. I told her she could come by today to finish up the leftover cookies. She must have come while I was napping."

  Holly stiffened. Again, the images played through her mind. The gray van, crawling closer. Ivy being snatched up and pulled inside. The gray van she'd thought she'd glimpsed just now, vanishing around the corner like a shark into the depths. "B-Bethany was here?"

  "Look in the kitchen. She may have just come in and helped herself, you know she thinks of our house just like home."

  Holly turned slowly to look into the kitchen. The lid was off the cookie jar, sitting beside it on the counter. There were some crumbs. An empty glass, with a film of milk coating the inside. She had been here. So had the van. And the front door ...

  "Bethany," she whispered.

  Vince put a hand on her shoulder. "Holly, what—?"

  "I'll be back in just a second." Holly went out the front door, closed it behind her, then she ran across the lawn, her heart pounding. She heard Vince calling after her, but she didn't pause. Not until she was at the Stevens's front door, pounding on it "Bethany! Bethany, where are you?"

  The door opened, and Bethany stood there, looking up at Holly with wide, frightened eyes. Her mother stood right behind her. "Holly? What's wrong?"

  Holly almost wept in relief. Would have, in fact, if she hadn't felt a pair of strong hands close on her shoulders, and a deep strong voice speak from behind her. She tried to stop shaking. Instead, she dropped to her knees, and hugged Bethany as gently as she could manage under the circumstances. "Nothing's wrong," she whispered. "I just... I'm glad to see you, kiddo."

  "You're so silly, Holly." Bethany squeezed her neck, and when she let go, Holly straightened, and hoped her terror didn't show. But Valerie Stevens was looking at her oddly.

  "Mommy bought the material for my Halloween costume today, and the pattern and stuff," Bethany announced.

  "Oh, that's great," Holly murmured. "I can't wait to get started."

  "Me neither."

  "It's... awfully good of you Holly," Valerie said softly. "Sewing has never been my strong suit."

  "I'm glad to help. We're going to have fun doing it, aren't we Bethany?"

  Bethany nodded. “I’ll bring it over later and show you everything."

  "Good, good, I can't wait to see it."

  Vince closed his hand around one of Holly's, and spoke. "Actually the reason we came over was to ask if you had been at Holly's house today."

  "Umm-hmm," Bethany said with a proud nod. "Mrs. Newman said to help myself to the cookies, and so I did." She looked up at Holly. "She was sleepin' so I didn't wake her up. It's okay, isn't it?"

  "Of course it's okay. I just wanted to make sure it was you and not some crazed cookie bandit." Holly bent, and deliberately arched one eyebrow. "Or maybe you are a crazed cookie bandit?" She grabbed Bethany's middle and tickled her until the child squealed. Then she let her go. "I'd better get back."

  "Bye, Holly. See you later," Bethany said.

  Holly turned with Vince to leave, but Valerie cleared her throat, stopping her. Val had stepped out onto the porch, and pulled the door closed behind her. "Holly, something frightened you, didn't it?"

  Meeting her neighbor's eyes, Holly nodded. "I thought I saw something."

  "Holly, you don't have to—"

  "She's Bethany's mom, Vince." Holly faced the woman again. "The van, the one that took Ivy away. I thought I saw it, and then my door was open, and then I realized Bethany had been by, and it just all—it brought it all back. I'm sorry. Val, I didn't mean to freak out like that."

  Valerie blinked a little too fast. "Oh, Holly. You sweet girl. Don't you apologize for looking out for Bethany. Not ever. I'm sorry this is still... so hard for you."

  "If you don't mind, can we keep it between us? I don't want to worry Mom."

  "Sure. Sure, hon, that's fine. You take care, okay?"

  Holly nodded, and Val went back inside.

  Vince drew Holly down the steps, turned her back toward her own home. They went a few steps, before the shaking that had begun deep in the core of her made its way to the surface, and her breaths came faster.

  He led her around the house, toward the back yard. Out of a direct line of sight from either home. "Don't let it get you, Holly. Come on, it's all right."

  "I swear I saw that van, Vince. I swear I did. Just out of the corner of my eye, when we first pulled in. And I thought... I thought—"

  "I know. But Bethany's safe, she's fine. Everything's fine."

  She leaned back against the side of her house. Vince kept his hands on her shoulders as if to steady her, and she lifted her head. “It's not fine, Vince. I'm not fine. You know what's going on here as well as I do. That bastard who killed my sister isn't just free. He's here. He's right here in Dilmun."

  He stared into her eyes, and she felt him searching them. What he might be looking for, she didn't know. "We have no evidence of that. None."

  "Don't we?" She shook her head. "Well, it's either that, or I'm losing my mind. Imagining things. Seeing shadows that aren't there. Vans that don't exist." She pulled the sheet of paper from underneath her blouse. "This was on the living room floor, Vince."

  She saw him pale when he realized what the paper was. "We could have dropped it. Remember, it was in the files the other night."

  "You think we dropped it? You think something like this has been lying around my living room and I didn't see it? And Mom didn't see it?"

  "It could have slipped underneath a piece of furniture. Maybe the door being open made a breeze, and it..." He didn't finish. He had to know how lame his words sounded.

  "Either I'm completely insane," she said slowly, "or he's here. Messing with my head."

  "Or it's just coincidence, combined with incredible stress..."

  "You don't believe me."

  "I don't know what to believe right now."

  Holly pushed away from the house, away from his hands. “I’ll tell you what I believe. I'm through letting that bastard fuck with my family, with my mind."

  "Holly?"

  She turned, glaring at him. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, clenching so tightly her nails dug into her palms. "I'm not going to take it anymore." She looked beyond him, toward the road, and she shouted, "Do you hear me, you son of a bitch! It's over!"

  "Holly!" Vince reached out and grabbed her shoulders.

  The tears exploded from her. She fell into his arms and she let them come. Vince held her hard against him, his hands in her hair, his mouth near her ear. "It's all right. It's okay," he kept saying it over and over again. But it wasn't okay. She didn't think it would ever be okay again.

  TEN

  VINCE HAD SEEN the change. In the car, she'd been feeling panicky, frightened. In the house, when she thought another child might be at risk, her entire demeanor had changed. She found her anger.

  It was good. Healthy. Oh, he didn't want her
shouting challenges to a killer in the streets, but he was glad she'd found her strength. Maybe that was selfish, because it verified what he'd begun to suspect about her. He'd sensed that inner strength she hadn't tapped. Now he saw her finding it, grabbing hold.

  She was something, all right. He couldn't take his eyes off her. And when she collapsed, sobbing in his arms, he found himself feeling way more than he ought to. In fact he caught her face between his palms, turned it up to his, and came within a hair's breadth of kissing her.

  It was that close.

  Damn.

  He didn't know if she'd seen that van, or just imagined it. But he had to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  Though he thought some others might not be so inclined. In fact a short while later the chief showed up in response to Holly's call, and he looked downright skeptical. But he still promised to stay the night, just in case Holly's fears proved true.

  That settled, she led Vince outside, one hand on his arm, her emotional storm long past. "Chief Mallory promised to spend the night, and to keep a close eye on Bethany next door as well," she said. "Mom will be fine."

  "So, where are we going?"

  "We need to talk."

  He didn't realize there was more she wanted to say. "About what?"

  "Look, you told me you needed me to tell you everything about that day. The things that didn't make it into the report. I'm ready to do that. I'll rip my chest open and let you wade around in my blood, if it'll help us figure out who he is so we can put him away, once and for all. But we need to be alone. I don't want phones and faxes interrupting every five minutes. All right?"

  He nodded. "All right. I'm with you."

  "No you're not. But you're all I've got right now."

  He blinked, not sure what she meant. She got into the car. "Your place," she told him. And he drove.

  ***

  "EVERYTHING HAS TO be just perfect for the children," Reggie said as he knelt beside one of the fake tombstones on his lawn, rigging yet another special effect for the party. "I love to give them a good scare on Halloween."

  "I never would have believed such a true demon lurked under your gentle exterior, Uncle Reggie." Amanda was unrolling strips of artificial turf over the various extension cords that crisscrossed the lawn. She secured them to the soil with small stakes. It wouldn't do to have anyone tripping. She didn't want to see any of the children get hurt.

  "Oh, it's good for them," Reggie insisted. "What child doesn't want to be frightened on Halloween?"

  "Me," she answered.

  He sent her a trademark scowl and made claws of his hands. Then he knelt again. "Is this one all plugged in?"

  "All set, Reg."

  "Ahh, good." He tugged a remote control from his pocket and thumbed a button. The ground in front of the tombstone seemed to crumble and open, and a gnarled hand rose slowly up from the earth. In truth there was a black box there, sitting in a perfectly square hole, with a patch of turf over the top. Slices precut in the turf allowed the hand to claw its way through. "In the dark it's going to look fantastic. Sound effects for this one?"

  "Another scream, perhaps?" Amanda asked. She reached to the portable CD player clipped to a belt at her waist and pressed a button. An ear-splitting shriek filled the air, coming from several speakers spaced around the lawn, all of them hidden.

  "Hmm, maybe not," Reggie mused. "The little ones will probably be shrieking enough all by themselves. Especially the little girls."

  "You always did like us best."

  "Lucky for you, brat."

  She smiled at him and hit another button. "Rattling chains?" she said, as the sound effect played. "Moaning wind?" She played that one. Then added, "Howling wolves?"

  "That's it. The wolves. Children of the night!"

  She rolled her eyes, smiling wider. "I swear, Uncle Reggie, I've never seen you this excited. You're like a kid at Christmas."

  "I'm in my element, dear. In my element." He rubbed his hands together in mock maniacal glee and got to his feet again with effort. "Come, we still have to try out the fog machine before dark."

  ***

  IT WAS DUSK, and Vince now knew what Holly meant by "alone." They were in a rowboat, bobbing serenely on the far side of the lake. They'd taken turns rowing, and were near the opposite shore. They both wore bright orange life vests. He'd objected, and she'd insisted.

  "I'm a good swimmer," had been his main attempt at arguing.

  "The water's about 45 degrees this time of year. Mark Spitz isn't a good swimmer in that kind of cold. Besides, it's the law. You don't want to go breaking the law, do you?"

  He'd put on the lifejacket. Was still wearing it now, as they floated quietly in the long, narrow lake. A soft but dense gray mist was rising from the water, even as the sky grew darker. "I don't know how the hell we'll find our way back," he muttered. "Did you bring a compass?"

  She let him tease her, even smiled a little in response. "Don't need one."

  "You can tell by the stars where we are? What are you, Davy Crockett?"

  She shook her head. "Don't trust me, O'Mally?"

  He shrugged. "This is the longest of the Finger Lakes, isn't it?"

  "Yep, Cayuga's the longest. Over thirty-five miles from the southern tip to the northern."

  "Mm-hmm."

  “There's a light on the end of the dock that'll guide us right back in," she told him.

  "It wasn't on when we left."

  "It comes on at dusk. Watch." She pointed, he presumed back toward the direction from which they'd come, although he was already turned around and disoriented. They watched in silence, and as the darkness grew thicker, the light came on.

  He sighed audibly. "Okay. That's better." He dipped the oars, and rowed them farther into the depths of the lake.

  It was quiet on the water. Soothing somehow. He hadn't seen the lake this calm since he'd come out here. Every time he'd looked out over the water, it had been broken and choppy. Either spiderwebbed like cracked glass, or foaming at the mouth with whitecaps. Now it was deep and dark, a well of secrets.

  "This is as good a spot as any," she said at length. He stopped rowing and the boat drifted on its own.

  He pulled the oars in, leaned back in his seat. “This was a good idea. It's nice out here. You look... better."

  "I've always loved the lake. It relaxes me." She drew a breath, sighed. "So I guess this is where I tell you about Ivy."

  "When you're ready," he said. He didn't want to push her. He didn't want to do anything to cause this woman any pain.

  She smiled sadly. "I'm not ready. I'll never be ready, Vince. But, the way I see it, I don't have much of a choice here."

  He nodded, watching her closely. She seemed to need to prepare. First she opened the Thermos bottle he'd brought along, and poured two tin cups full of cocoa. She handed one to him, balanced hers on the rowboat's seat, while she screwed the cap back on. Then she set the jug down, picked the cup up, took a deep breath. "I was born on Christmas, you know."

  "No. I didn't know that."

  She sipped the cocoa, nodded. "Three years later, Ivy was born on my birthday. Mom named us for her favorite carol. "The Holly and the Ivy."

  "I get it. That's really cute."

  She smiled just a little. "God, we used to love Christmas. It was such an event in our family." Through the darkness he could still see her eyes glow with the memories. "There would be so many presents, we wouldn't be able to get from our bedroom to the living room without unwrapping ourselves a path. Dad used to say Santa was extra good to us, because Christmas was our birthday. Used to say we were the only kids around who got birthday presents from St. Nick."

  He nodded, and he could almost picture those times in his mind. Two little girls, their eyes sparkling. The image made his chest hurt.

  Then the sparkle in Holly's eyes turned to wetness, and her voice went taut. "I loved her so much."

  "I know." He reached across the distance between his seat and hers, took her hand. He
didn't know why he did it. He just did. And she didn't pull it away.

  "Mom had told us time and time again to walk straight to school, and come straight home. I don't know why the hell I got so cocky. I loved her. I didn't know what would happen."

  He nodded, but he didn't think she was seeing him now. Her gaze was distant, or maybe focused inward. It was almost completely dark now. The moon hadn't risen yet, but the stars were beginning to wink to life in the sky, one by one. They appeared and predictably, the first thing they seemed to do was check themselves out in the lake, their mirror.

  "There was this boy I liked. This boy... I wanted to walk by his house on the way home. I don't even remember his name—Johnny ... something—but I put him above my own baby sister."

  He jerked his gaze away from the glasslike surface of the water. "No, you didn't. You had no idea you were putting her at risk. If you had, you'd have made different choices that day. You know you would."

  She nodded, but her expression was vague. The nod was more an affirmation that she had heard him, not that she agreed. "I promised my mother I'd take care of her, Vince. And I didn't do it. I didn't even come close."

  He knew that feeling too well to offer an objection to it. So he didn't. He just let her talk.

  "This van came along. Very slowly pulled alongside us." Her breathing got a little faster. Then a little faster.

  "And then he just... he jumped out and... he grabbed her, and that was—"

  "No, no. Wait, slow it down for me, Holly." Vince faced her, clasped her other hand, and held both firmly enough to get her attention. "Think, very slowly. Try to see every detail you can in each moment of this thing before moving on to the next. This van came along, you said. Stop there. Don't go forward, don't think about what happened next. Just the van. Freeze-frame it in your mind, can you do that?"

  “I... I can try."

  "What did it look like? What did you see when you noticed it?"

  "It was dark gray. Not like it had been painted that color. More like it hadn't been painted at all."