Gingerbread Man (22 page)

"You were only trying to ease her suffering,"
she tried, knowing it was lame.

"And, instead, I heightened it. See, that day
in my office, I think she had already begun to accept that she'd
lost them. I do. But I had to give her hope, and she latched on to
it like a lifeline. My God, if you could have seen that woman's
face when I had to tell her..."

"I still don't see what this has to do with
us."

He glanced at her, barely hearing her, she
thought, he was so involved in his own thoughts now. "And the kids.
Those kids. But I can't tell you about that. No one should know
about that."

He was pacing faster now, agitated strides
across the room, then back again. He paused to look out the window
once, but she thought his eyes were only seeing the nightmare he
had so recently lived.

"I made another promise. To myself. I
promised I'd get the son of a bitch vile enough to do—what he did.
And I can't let myself get sidetracked." He looked back at her.
"Not even by you, Red."

Holly couldn't stay away from him any longer.
She climbed out of bed and went to him, but didn't touch him. Just
stood close, looking up at him. "I want to catch him, too. So how
could I sidetrack you?"

"Because you have problems, Red, and because
deep down I'm fighting hard against the urge to tell you I'll make
them better. To step in and try to be the hero you need me to be.
I'd fail if I tried. I've been down this road often enough to know
that. And what's more, I'd lose sight of the main objective."

She moved closer, took his hands. "And what
else?"

He swallowed hard. She saw his Adam's apple
swell with the motion, and when he turned his eyes away, she
thought he would refuse to answer. But instead he said, "If I don't
let you need me, I don't risk letting you down the way I did Sara
Prague and her kids."

She sighed softly, nodding. "Thank you,
Vince. It means a lot to me that you told me the truth,
finally."

He looked at the floor, avoiding her eyes.
"You needed to know. I can't play knight in shining armor to your
damsel in distress, Red."

"I know." She smiled sadly. "In your own way,
O'Mally, you're as screwed up as I am."

"I never said I wasn't. After what I saw in
that house in Syracuse.... I don't know if I'm ever gonna get over
that."

She lifted her chin. "You may not. If you do,
then maybe that's when you need to start questioning your mental
state, because I don't think any caring, sane person could put
something like that behind him."

He sighed, relieved maybe, that she
understood.

She locked her eyes with his. "So you don't
want me to need you. I can deal with that. But tell me this, Vince.
Does that mean I can't want you?"

HOLLY STOOD CLOSE to him in the bedroom, and
the storm was still raging. Outside... inside. Hell, he couldn't
tell the difference anymore. He could smell the hint of pine and
rain that still clung to her skin. And he knew better, dammit, but
it didn't seem to matter. Her face tilted up toward his, and her
eyes were storm-tossed lakes of phosphorous green, and he saw the
need in them, despite her denial. But he also saw the desire. It
blazed, green flames licking up at him, burning him. All his
arguments went silent. He knew he was about to make a huge mistake,
but, hell, he was only human. He was out of willpower. He curled
his hands around her upper arms, pulled her against him, and he
kissed her. Her mouth was cool and wet, opening willingly against
his. He let go of her arms, and they twisted around his neck,
pulled tighter, closer. He slid his arms around her waist, just
kept on kissing her. When her tongue touched his, his body caught
fire. His heart hammered and his blood boiled and his head swam
with images, vivid ones, of the two of them tangled and naked.
Desire, carnal and blatant, jolted through him. It was centered in
his chest, that surge, but zapping outward in all directions so
forcefully he was sure he must have had sparks flying from his
fingertips.

He stopped. Just stopped, let go of her as if
she were too hot to touch, took a backward step and felt himself
shaking down deep. "Jesus."

She lowered her head, but not before he'd
seen the stunned confusion in her eyes. Followed quickly by the
hurt. He had not expected this. Desire was one thing. He knew he
was attracted to her, he'd expected desire. He'd felt desire out
there in the woods, before, but there was more now. Way more.

She shivered, rubbed her arms. She'd felt it,
too.

"Holly—"

Her head snapped up, eyes alight. "Don't you
dare tell me that was a mistake. Or that it can't go any further.
Don't you dare, Vince."

Before he could speak, there was a
perfunctory tap on the door. It opened immediately, and Graycloud
stepped in without waiting for an invitation. His sharp eyes danced
from Holly to Vince and back again. Vince wondered what he was
seeing. The two of them standing, facing each other, looking shaken
and stunned, and maybe flushed and aroused, too. Holly did, at
least. He hoped he hid what he was feeling a little better than
she.

"Oh, she is awake. I thought I heard her,"
Amanda said from behind the doctor. "Holly, you shouldn't be up on
your feet. Not so soon."

"I'm fine," Holly said, but her gaze was
still riveted to Vince's, and he saw the threat there. It was
almost laughable that he could feel threatened by a woman her size,
but he did. She meant to do him in. She wasn't going to take no for
an answer, and he seriously doubted he'd be able to give it more
than once or twice anyway. It was coming. It was inevitable, that's
what those eyes said. Whatever it was that had just happened here,
she wanted more of it.

Hell, he did, too.

"I'll be the judge of how fine you are,"
Graycloud said. "Into bed with you, Holly. Come on now."

She glanced at the doctor, sighed her
surrender, and returned to the bed. As she got in Vince wondered
what insanity had made him think even for a minute that he could
curl up in a big soft bed with her—or a big pile of icy wet leaves,
for that matter—and keep his hands to himself. She was too much.
Screwed up enough to push all his buttons. The woman was damaged,
and for good reason. He had a weakness for wounded women, and this
one was wounded enough to kill him. He'd known that up front.
Thought he could handle it. Then she'd gone and revealed there was
more to her than the old wounds, the history, the baggage.
Everything in him had resisted her far more easily before she'd
decided to stand up and fight. From that moment on, he hadn't stood
a chance.

Graycloud was leaning over her now, fingers
on her wrist while she held a thermometer in her mouth. An
old-fashioned model. No digital electronic stick for Doc Graycloud.
The wind howled outside, lashing the house as if trying to break
in. Vince wondered if the old actor was awake, listening to it and
reliving his glory days.

A soft hand cupped his shoulder. "She's going
to be just fine, you know. Holly is a very strong woman."

He glanced sideways at Amanda, saw her blue
eyes on Dr. Graycloud and Holly. "I thought you two didn't know
each other very well," Vince said.

"We've lived in the same small town for
almost two years, Detective. We may not be intimate friends, but it
would be impossible not to know a little bit about each other." She
sighed, watching Dr. Graycloud remove the thermometer from Holly's
mouth, and squint at its numbers. "I've always wished I were more
like her. Strong, self-assured."

It occurred to him that if
obsessive-compulsive, panic-attack prone Holly seemed like a pillar
of stability to her, Amanda must be a virtual basket case. But that
wasn't fair and he knew it. Besides, this was no time to be
reminding himself of all the reasons he should avoid Holly Newman
like the plague. He could do that later. This was an opportunity to
gather information.

"It's a shame everyone in town doesn't agree
with you," he said, dragging his gaze off Holly and fixing it on
Amanda to watch her face, gauge her reactions.

She frowned at him. "What do you mean?
Everyone loves Holly."

Was there a hint of resentment in her tone
just then? Maybe... maybe just a little. "Not everyone," he said.
"The person who put the light out last night so we couldn't find
our way back, for example."

She looked shocked by his words. "You really
think someone would do that deliberately?"

"I think there have been a few too many
coincidences lately for them to be considered coincidences at
all."

"Such as?"

"Someone snooping in my cabin. Someone in
Holly's house while her mother was asleep."

Her eyes widened. "You think it's someone
from Dilmun?"

"I've been checking around. The tourists have
all gone home except for a couple of fishermen who've been coming
here for twenty years. There are no strangers in town that anyone
seems aware of. Other than me, that is."

"And you have no idea who it could be?"

"Nope. How about you?"

Her head came up fast, eyes snapping to his.
"Goodness, no. What makes you think I'd know anything about
it?"

He only shrugged. "You live here. If she has
any enemies, I figured you'd know about it."

"She doesn't. Most people in this town would
gladly throw themselves into the path of a speeding train for Holly
Newman."

This time the emotion in the words was too
obvious to ignore. "That almost sounds as if you're a little
envious, Amanda."

She shook her head. “I have Reggie. He's all
I need."

"Is he?" She looked at him, saying nothing.
"You seem... lonely, to me."

Her gaze rose, even though her head stayed
lowered, soft brown hair veiling her face. "Do I?" He didn't reply.
She sighed. "I'm not. Not really. I don't like people. I prefer to
be alone. Truly."

"Why is that, Amanda?"

She stared at him, but she didn't answer.
Instead she turned toward the door. "Call me if you need anything."
Then she left.

He watched her until she was out of sight,
then glanced back at the bed. Holly looked away fast. Her jaw was
tight, her lips pressed hard together, and her eyes angry... and
maybe the tiniest bit jealous.

***

SHE DIDN'T KNOW why she was letting herself
go from disliking the man intensely to burning up for him, but she
had. All in the space of a single night, though she knew damned
well it had been going on far longer. From that first day, in
fact

She hadn't ever been this powerfully
attracted to a man before. She didn't know if there was anything
real to it or not, despite her persistent sense that there must be.
She supposed it might be tied, somehow, to her psyche, and the
bombs that had been going off within it for the past several days.
He was connected to all of that. Maybe that was the basis for the
attraction.

No. No, it was more.

It didn't matter. The cause, that is. What
mattered was that for a very long time, she'd been fairly certain
she would never feel the way he made her feel. He might be her only
chance at knowing that kind of passion.

But all of that was beside the point. The
main point was staying alive, being safe, keeping her mother safe,
keeping all the children in the world safe from the predator who
stalked them.

Vince lay on the ridiculous chaise after Dr.
Graycloud had pronounced Holly healthy and left them alone again.
He hadn't said a word since the doctor had retired, and she hadn't
either. The storm was growing more distant with every tick of the
clock, and the sky beyond the window was beginning to pale. It
would be dawn soon. She wanted to have sex with him. He knew that,
she was fairly certain she'd made it abundantly clear. She wasn't
going to beat the subject to death. Nor would she beg.

"I think we need to tell my mother what's
going on," she said. "I think she needs to know."

He lay on his back, never turning to face
her. "I think it would upset her for no good reason."

"This person went after her, Vince. He was in
the house while she was there."

"If he'd been after her, he would've ... she
was never a target." He altered the sentence for her benefit, she
knew. "If he was in your house, he was messing with your head,
Holly."

"Why? What purpose could that serve?"

"He's keeping you off balance. Maybe so
you'll continue to question your own mind—your own memory."

"That would only make sense if there were
something more I could possibly remember. And I—I don't think there
is."

"You don't want there to be."

She swung her gaze to him sharply, met his
eyes, saw that he knew exactly what she was feeling. "You're right.
If I knew something more, something that could have saved my
sister, but blocked it—" She closed her eyes. "This is pointless.
And off the subject. We were talking about my mother."

He nodded at her to go on.

"She has a right to know the man sitting in
prison for murdering her daughter isn't the man who did it."

Vince sighed. It was a deep, heavy sound. As
if he had more to say, and had used the sigh to keep from saying
it

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. If you want to tell her, we'll tell
her."

“Today," she said.

"Okay." He flung back the covers, got to his
feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting up. The storm's fading fast I have
things to do."

"Or, maybe you're just in a hurry to get away
from me."

He glanced across the room at her. She felt
his eyes on her, sliding from her head to her toes, and warming her
right through the covers. "I was planning on taking you with
me."

"Oh."

"Red, you need to understand something about
me."