Gingerbread Man (18 page)

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Authors: Maggie Shayne

Tags: #thriller, #kidnapping, #ptsd, #romantic thriller, #missing child, #maggie shayne, #romantic suspesne

BOOK: Gingerbread Man
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She nodded slowly, as if she were
understanding every word.

"I don't want you to promise me anything,"
she whispered finally. "But, could you at least... at
least...

"At least...

"Hold me." The words emerged as a bare croak.
A plea wrenched from the depths of her hell.

He knew damn well he was going to kiss her.
Bad idea. Very Bad Idea, he told himself. Yet, he leaned forward,
sliding off his seat until he knelt in the bottom of the boat, and
slid his hands slowly up her arms to her shoulders. Then he tugged
her down, until she knelt as well. He leaned closer, saw her tongue
dart out to moisten her lips, and her eyes fall closed in
expectation.

He was going to do it. In spite of everything
his mind was telling him, he was going to kiss her. He
wanted
to kiss her. Possibly more than he wanted to take
another breath.

A low rumble in the distance distracted him.
By the time he let it interfere with his intent, his lips were
already brushing hers, just barely. He felt her breath on his mouth
and he tasted the merest sample of her, when the rumble became more
insistent. He popped his eyes open, his hands still on her
shoulders, his mouth almost touching hers. Her eyes opened, too, in
response to the sound, which rumbled again, louder this time.

Sighing, she leaned into his arms as he
closed them around her, held her, just as she'd asked him to. And
he whispered, "Is that thunder?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "And not a moment too
soon, hmm?"

"It's just as well." He stroked her hair, set
her upright. "It's not a good idea, you and me, Red."

She refused to meet his eyes. "We ought to
start back, before we get rained on."

He took a look around as he reached for the
oars. "I, um ... I'm probably just distracted here, but I don't see
our guiding light."

Holly lifted her head, saw that he wasn't
kidding, and looked around herself. Only darkness surrounded them.
Darkness, and water. Clouds were rapidly obliterating the stars
overhead, so that even they winked out. "The light's gone out," she
said.

Then she met his eyes, held them in the
darkness. "Or someone put it out."

The thunder rolled from the sky over the
water. To Vince it sounded like demonic laughter.

 

ELEVEN

 

THE STORM ROLLED closer. The wind picked up,
tossing the little boat more and more ruthlessly in its grip as
Vince rowed. He figured if he were heading east, or west or south,
he'd be all right They'd hit shore, if he could just keep going
straight. But if he were heading north, they could row all night
without reaching land.

Frankly, he didn't think the little boat
would hold up that long.

The winds came harder, the waves jumping and
rolling the little boat right up onto its side and back down again.
They were both getting wet, and it wasn't even raining yet

"We have to get to shore," Holly yelled. "Any
shore."

"I'd do that if I knew where the hell any
shore was," he shouted back.

She squinted in the distance, looking first
one way and then another. "There," she yelled, pointing. "There's a
light."

"Our light?”

She shook her head. "Looks like a window in
someone's house. Just go that way, Vince."

He went that way, rowing for all he was worth
against the waves, and the wind. But they got considerably worse,
until the nose of the boat was literally bounding up and down in
the water. And on one downward beat they hit something hard. One
side of the boat tipped up, the other down, and the next thing he
knew the little boat flipped. There was a shockingly cold impact,
and then his entire world consisted of icy, cold lake water,
surrounding him, filling him, pulling him down.

He'd have howled at the cold if he hadn't
been underwater. As it was he swallowed a gallon of the stuff
before he managed to struggle to the surface again. He blinked and
swiped his eyes, looking around him in shock, for Holly...

But Holly was nowhere in sight.

***

SHE COULDN'T BREATHE. She was choking.
Freezing. Ice entombed her and smothered her. She couldn't find
air. Only ice.

A mouth sealed itself over hers, warm, wet,
and life giving. Warm breath pushed into her lungs, then soughed
away when the mouth rose. But it came back even before her panic
set in. It came back, and it filled her, again and again, until the
water rose up in her chest, and she began to choke.

Hands at her back, rolling her onto her side
as she gagged and spewed water like a fountain. Hands, holding her
shoulders until the spasms she thought would tear her apart finally
passed. Hands, easing her down again, until her back rested against
something solid. They touched her cheeks, those hands. They pushed
her hair aside.

"Come on, Red, look at me. Come on."

She opened her eyes, found herself staring up
at Vince O'Mally's face. His eyes were pained, worried. His hair,
plastered to his head. She couldn't seem to stop shivering.

"How badly are you hurt?"

Blinking her vision clear, she looked past
him, at the grim silhouettes of trees standing like demons in the
darkness. Tall and hunching, watching them. Water lapped nearby,
and she turned her head to the left, saw the lake, thought it was
shaped wrong. And then she remembered and came upright. "The
boat—"

"We must have hit a rock. Capsized. It's
gone, Holly. Anywhere we go from here will have to be on foot. Are
you hurt?"

She drew her gaze back to his face. "We were
in the water. How did I—?"

Rolling his eyes in impatience, Vince rocked
back on his heels. "If I give you the full account will you focus
for me, here?" His hands drew away from her shoulders as he began
ticking off items on his fingers. "We were in the rowboat. The wind
and waves threw us into a rock or something, and we flipped over.
We both went into the drink. You were out cold, so I had to haul
your ass in. Now will you please tell me if you're hurt?"

She looked down at her body. "What happened
to my life jacket?"

"For the love of—I had to take it off you,
okay? I couldn't very well do CPR through a life jacket"

"Oh, my God," she whispered, her eyes welling
as they locked with his. "CPR. Oh my God."

His hands clasped her shoulders again,
firmly. "Holly, it wasn't necessary, but I couldn't have known that
in advance. A little mouth-to-mouth and you were back. Now, come
on, focus. I need to know if you're hurt."

Silently she took mental stock. "My head
hurts. It hurts pretty bad. Other than that, I'm too cold to
tell."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. Can you get
up?"

She nodded, and he rose, taking her by her
upper arms and helping her get to her feet She tested herself,
putting weight on one leg, then the other, moving her arms, flexing
her fingers: She was shivering with cold, but everything else
seemed to be working. Vince was eyeing her oddly, then, without
warning, he pushed her hair aside, and probed a spot on her head,
above her left ear. She sucked in a breath, and he muttered a
curse.

"It's not bad," she said weakly.

"You haven't seen the lump. You must have hit
something on the way in. Probably the same rock the boat hit."

She lifted her brows. But she wasn't thinking
about the lump on her head. She was remembering what had almost
happened in the boat—what had been about to happen when the wind
had kicked up.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

She shook her head, shoved the memory away,
or tried to. "We'll freeze to death out here if we don't do
something, Vince. We can't stay out here all night soaking
wet."

Vince met her eyes, then quickly looked away.
"Let's start walking. We'll find a house, a road, something sooner
or later." He took her arm, started off through the woods, picking
his way.

She walked beside him, but a new chill was
settling over her now. "What if it was him? What if he's the one
who put the light out on the shore, knowing this storm was about to
kick up?"

"We can't be sure of that." He laced his
fingers with hers, and stepped over stumps and brush, between
limbs. "You're borrowing trouble, Red. For all we know the light
blew on its own."

"That light hasn't gone out in five years,
Vince."

"Then it was due."

"No. It was deliberate." She looked around.
"And if the bastard saw us, he probably has a better idea where we
are than we do right now."

Vince picked up the pace a little. "It
doesn't matter. Even if that was true, by the time he came looking,
we'd be long gone. Holed up someplace warm and dry, I hope."

She stopped walking. "Wait, there's lightning
again."

She climbed up on a stump, looking out toward
the water, waiting for the lightning to flash a second time. When
it did, her face was more intense than any he'd ever seen as she
studied the lake in that instant. Reaching for his shoulder, she
got back down. She wobbled a little, and he steadied her.

She pointed. "That way's south. I'm afraid
we're miles from anywhere, Vince. We came across the southern tip
of the lake. To get back to town, we have to hike all the way
around it." She started walking.

Vince fell into pace beside her. "There's got
to be something between here and there. A house, a hunting shack,
anything."

She shook her head. "The closest house is
Reggie's place, and that's at least a few miles. If we make it that
far, we can make it home. There's a shortcut through the woods past
Reggie's place. From it we can get to Uncle Marty and Aunt Jen's,
or keep going just a little farther to the cabins." Even as she
finished saying it, her foot, numb with cold, hooked on a stump and
she fell face first to the ground.

Vince knelt beside her, helped her sit up.
"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just tripped. I'm fine." But she was
shaking all over, and none too steady on her feet. She was worried
about the pain in her head. She'd hit it hard in the lake, and she
was still feeling dizzy and weak. It wasn't going away as she'd
hoped it would.

“To hell with this," Vince muttered. Before
she knew what he was thinking, he scooped her up into his arms.
Then he resumed walking through the woods, carrying her now.

"Vince, that's really chivalrous and all, but
come on... put me down."

"You're injured."

"I'm freezing. At least walking will warm me
up."

"I will warm you up." He tightened his arms
around her as he said it, and she felt his body heat slowly seeping
through their wet clothes, into her skin where her body rested
against his. She couldn't help snuggling closer. She didn't feel
the least bit embarrassed about pressing as close to him as she
could manage. She wrapped her arms around his neck to anchor
herself as he walked. And his body grew warmer as they progressed
through the trees.

"Do you really think there's a chance that
light went out by accident, Vince? Or are you just trying not to
frighten me?"

"Good question. I'm not real sure myself
right now."

She closed her eyes, opened them again
slowly. "You were... giving me mouth-to-mouth when I came
around."

"Best part of the whole trip." He said it
lightly, like a teasing joke between friends, but the words made
her stomach clench into a knot.

"You saved my life, Vince."

"You saved both our lives. If you hadn't been
so stubborn about the life jackets, I doubt either one of us would
have made it to shore."

The wind picked up force, raking her wet
clothes like a blast of ice. A shiver jostled her body, and his
arms tightened around her. "Damn. If we don't get dry soon ..."

"Let me walk for a ways," she said. "Maybe
the exertion will help."

Nodding, he set her on her feet, but held her
close to his side. They kept walking, and the activity should have
warmed her, but it didn't. She shivered harder with every minute
that ticked by, and he did, too, though his worried expression was
always on her. They walked for an hour, she figured, though it
seemed much longer, before he stopped and turned to face her,
shaking his head as he watched her shivering violently.

"This is no good. We're barely covering any
ground at all. We keep on like this we'll be frozen. And once the
damn storm hits, we'll really be in trouble." He released her from
his side, and shrugged out of his jacket, then his shirt. His
fingers were shaking so hard he could barely maneuver the wet cloth
over his hands and arms, but somehow he managed.

"What are you d-d-doing, Vince?"

"We need to dig in, Red. Just for a little
while. An hour, tops. Let the wind dry our clothes at least
partially. You're never going to make it back to town like this.
Come on, over here." He led her deeper into the trees, until he
came to a fallen trunk, surrounded by dead leaves. Then he told her
to sit, and hung his shirt from a nearby limb. A moment later, he
peeled off his T-shirt and did the same with it, stretching it over
limbs. The stiff wind filled it like a balloon and she saw what he
was going for. The wind would dry it, to some extent. Vince turned
to her, held out a hand. "Strip them off and hand them over, Red.
This is no time for shyness."

Nodding, too cold to refuse any suggestion
that might make her warm again, she gripped her shirt with the
frozen stumps that used to be fingers and peeled it off over her
head. She held it out to him. The icy wind blasted her and she
wrapped her arms around her upper body. "We'll f-freeze to death
before they ever get dry," she stammered.

"Jeans, too. They're holding more water than
anything else."

She wriggled the jeans off with
difficulty—the wet denim clung to her legs. But she finally got
them off, and by the time she did he'd already peeled out of his
own, wrung them out, and hung them from another limb. He put hers
up beside them, then came toward her in nothing but a pair of wet
boxers. Kneeling beside her, he burrowed into the mountain of
leaves that had drifted up against the fallen tree, digging a
shelter. "There," he said. "Now lie down, right there. It's dry,
and there are enough leaves to cover us."

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