Gingerbread Man (30 page)

"We've searched the entire house, including
the attic and the cellars. There's no sign of her," Reggie said.
His voice shook, and he looked as if he'd aged ten years in the
past few moments.

“It looks as if she was snatched during the
parade, outside," Vince said.

The chief swore. Reginald lifted his head.
"That's impossible. I was the only adult near the children during
the parade. I alone, led them around the yard..." He let his voice
trail off then, and his eyes met Vince's.

Holly glanced from Vince to Reggie and back
again, and a chill settled deeper into her bones.

THE STATE POLICE sent teams out to search the
area around the house. There were a lot of woods.
A lot
of
woods. And there was the lake. Spotlights were set up, teams combed
the woods, calling for Bethany. More went out on the lake in boats,
shining lights on the water.

Police officers interviewed the guests, gave
them clearance to leave. A pair of cops searched each vehicle
before its owners were allowed to take it off the premises.

The chief had led Reggie outside. Amanda
walked outside behind them like a zombie, and Vince tapped his
partner, and pointed. Jerry looked, gave a nod, and went to help
Amanda. Good. Less for Holly to do. She let Vince lead her to the
Jeep, and rode in silence to the Dilmun Police Department.

But when she was finally left alone, on one
of the small sofas in the reception area, she felt herself sliding
into the distant past…

She was small, and shivering, and utterly
alone, sitting on an oversized chair that all but swallowed her up,
her feet dangling inches above the hard gray carpet. She didn't
know if her mother was going to live through the night, because
she'd never seen her mother look the way she had seen her look
then. She felt sick to her stomach, and thought she might have to
run for the rest room at any second. It was all her fault. It was
all her fault. Her sister was gone and it was all her fault.

But they would find her soon, and everything
would be okay again. They would find her by morning. Surely by
morning, and it would be okay.

There was something dark and deep inside her,
though, that told her that was a lie. It wouldn't be okay. It would
never be okay again.

A hand closed on Holly's arm. She looked up,
into Vince's face. His eyes were shadowed with concern.

"You were right about me from the start, you
know," she told him.

"No, I wasn't."

She shook her head too fast, too jerky. "I
need Dr. Graycloud. I need something." She glanced down at her
hands, gripping the arms of the chair, white knuckled, shaking.

"What, a tranquilizer? You threw them away,
Holly. You're stronger now. You don't need them." He followed her
gaze to her hands, put his over them. "Look, I'll have someone get
you some tea, huh? Chamomile is supposed to be calming—"

"Chamomile?" To her own ears her voice
sounded brittle. But she couldn't help that. "Jesus Christ, Vince,
my worst nightmare just rose up from the dead to smack me in the
face. Chamomile isn't gonna cut it. I'm not sure fucking Thorazine
would cut it, but I'm willing to give it a shot."

His hands closed on her arms, and he hauled
her to her feet so fast her head snapped backward. His hands on her
arms were hard. His face, harder. "Don't you bail on me now,
goddamn it."

"Why the hell not? You knew I would. You
wouldn't let yourself feel anything for me because you knew I
would. Remember? You couldn't handle getting involved with a
fucked-up female. A headcase like me who might need you too much.
Remember, Vince? Turns out your instincts were right. You ought to
be celebrating."

“I would be. If I'd listened to them." He let
her go.

She sank onto the sofa, landing heavily.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You figure it out. You clear the cobwebs out
of your head, stand up like you ought to, stop acting like a
victim, and figure it out." He retrieved the empty cup he'd dropped
on the sofa beside her, moved past her to the coffee pot and filled
it. Then he turned and headed back through the reception area
toward the cell in the back where he'd left the chief with Reggie
D'Voe. At the doorway, though, he stopped and looked back at her.
"Stop focusing on yourself Holly. Think about Val Stevens. Think
about Bethany, for Christ's sake. There are other people here in
far worse shape than you are right now. Take a look around."

She watched him go. Then she glanced at the
waiting room around her. She had thought herself alone. She wasn't.
Might as well have been, though. Amanda sat sideways in a chair in
the corner, knees curled up, arms wrapped around them. Her eyes
were vacant. As if she hadn't heard a damned thing.

Beyond the doorway, Vince, Jerry, and the
chief were questioning Reggie. Holly leaned forward a little, and
she could see them at the far end of the hall in the cell there.
The cell door was open. Inside it, on a hard chair, Reggie was pale
and trembling.

The sound of Ivy's screams had been echoing
in Holly's ears more loudly than they ever had for over an hour.
But now empathy for what Amanda and her uncle were going through
crept into its place. The screams faded into the past where they
belonged. Holly got to her feet and her knees gave. She caught
herself on the arm of the sofa, pushed herself up again, snapped
her knees straight. With one hand, she swiped the tears from her
cheeks. It stung when she wiped her eyes. She'd cried so much they
were raw. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay, I have to try." Her feet
wanted to scuff the floor when she walked. They felt so heavy. She
forced her legs to move, to propel her forward. Into the back, into
the storage closet. She took out blankets, two of them. She carried
one to the cell. The door was open. She shook the folds out of the
blanket, and draped it over Reggie's shoulders the way she had seen
his devoted niece do so often.

He glanced up at her once. Gratitude
flickered briefly from behind the mask of horror he wore. She
didn't look at Vince. She didn't want to see him and be reminded
how badly she had probably blown things with him by falling apart
the way she had. Turning, she made her way back to the reception
room. She tucked the second blanket around Amanda.

"Can I get you anything?"

Amanda kept rocking, but she did pull the
blanket close around her, burrowing into it as if for protection.
It occurred to Holly that she might be the one in need of some
magic pills right now.

"Amanda?" Holly shook her gently.

Amanda's distracted gaze flickered, darted
toward Holly. "We have to find that little girl," she said softly,
urgently. "We have to. We have to."

"I know, Amanda. We will." Holly lowered her
gaze. "Dr. Graycloud will be coming by soon. He took Val Stevens to
the hospital. But he'll be here once he gets her settled in."

Amanda shook her head slowly. "He can't
help."

"No? Then, who can? I mean, if you want to
talk through it..."

She closed her eyes. Nodded hard. "Yes."

Holly felt stronger when she looked at the
woman in the chair, how fragile and on the edge she seemed. More so
than Holly had been. Maybe Vince was right. Maybe she could at
least
pretend
to be the strong one here— because there was
no one else to do it. And someone had to. There were only the two
of them out here, and Amanda clearly needed help. Lifting her
hands, Holly gently took the black wig off Amanda's head, removed
the clips that held her hair up, and stroked the light brown locks
away from tear-stained cheeks. She felt eyes on her, and glanced
through the doorway, down the hall. Vince's gaze met hers, probing,
searching for something she couldn't hope to name. Then he focused
on Reggie again.

***

"PLEASE, I'VE TOLD you everything I can,"
Reginald said. It was amazing to Vince that the man kept calm,
dignified, even when he must be going crazy inside. Guilty or not,
this was traumatic. "Just tell me the other children all got home
safely. I need to know."

Sighing, the chief nodded. "The guests were
questioned one by one, their names and addresses taken down. The
cars of those few who came by car, were searched, plate numbers
noted, and then each family was given a police escort back to their
respective homes."

Reggie protested, "I can't believe the police
suspect anyone who was at my party may have been involved in
something this—this—"

"Someone at the party snatched a little
girl," Vince interrupted. "There's just no way around that. It's
happened. She's gone."

Reggie closed his eyes.

"A couple of cops went out onto the lawn with
flashlights," the chief said. "They walked that path you led the
kids around, during the parade."

Reggie's head came up, eyes hopeful. "And...
?"

"And they found Suzy Cooper's witch hat. It
was near the farthest end of the parade path from the house, where
all the parents were waiting. Bethany vanished between that spot
and the house, on the return trip, after she'd given her own hat to
Suzy."

"No. No, that's impossible. The lawn is
completely fenced in."

"Not quite, Reg." Vince sighed, glanced at
the chief, and the chief nodded at him to go on. "We found a break
in the fence near that farthest point. A recent one. The bars had
been sawed clean through, in an area hidden by some shrubbery.
Someone planned this in advance. Someone who knew the route the
kids would take."

Reggie waved a dismissive hand. “The parade
around my lawn has been the same ever since I started the party.
It's never changed. Anyone who's ever been to one would know
that."

"Think, Reg," the chief said gently. "Anyone
who was at one of the parties you
used to throw
would know.
But you haven't thrown one in sixteen years."

Vince met the chief's eyes. They both knew
that narrowed it down. It was someone local, and someone who'd been
local sixteen years ago, as well.

"Are they searching for Bethany?" Reginald
asked, looking Vince squarely in the eye in a way guilty parties
didn't often do.

"Teams of police officers and volunteer
firemen were dispatched into the woods. Boat patrols are searching
the lake. The FBI has been notified, and they'll be on the scene to
take over by morning."

"God, I hope they find her."

"So do I," Vince said. He spoke quietly,
glancing again toward the far end of the hall, where Holly hovered
over Amanda D'Voe. Vince knew full well that Holly was teetering on
the edge of what she could endure. And yet, she was hanging tough.
Out in the reception area of the station, even now, she was running
a wet cloth over Amanda's D'Voe's face, washing away the Halloween
makeup, serving her tea, telling her not to worry. Even now, when
he knew damned well she was reliving her own worst nightmares. It
had been close, for a while. But she hadn't given in. She'd fought
it, and she'd won. For now, at least. His admiration for her
strength rose with every moment that ticked by.

Vince drew his gaze back to Reginald. The
former Hollywood star, the arrogant living legend was gone. All
that remained was a frightened old man who was cold, pale,
trembling. "Are you sure you're telling us everything? If there's
anything you're holding back, Reg, now is the time to tell us.
Trust us."

“Trust you? There's nothing you can do to
stop this, much less to help me. If there were, that little girl
wouldn't be suffering God only knows what right now while you all
wring your hands and question the innocent."

"We're doing all we can do, Reggie," Chief
Mallory said.

"All you can? Well, it's not enough. Can't
you see it's not enough? Look at them out there! You think it ends
when you drop the case? Or when you solve it, or think you have? It
doesn't, you know. Just look at that young woman in the next room.
It's killing her—still. After all this time, it's still killing
her. You don't know, you don't know. You think you have power,
here, but you don't. He does. He has all the power."

"Who does?" Vince asked.

Reggie's shoulders slumped. "If I knew that
I'd kill him myself. I swear to God I would."

Jerry came in, carrying a fax that had just
come through the machine in the chief's office. Mallory scanned it,
paused for a long moment before handing it to Vince.

Vince read it and, frowning, lifted his gaze.
"Reggie, is it true you were an only child?"

Reginald narrowed his eyes on Vince, but said
nothing. Vince continued, "According to this, there's no physical
way you could have a niece."

Reggie only shrugged stiffly. " 'Uncle' is
more an honorary title in this case. Amanda's parents died, and
left her in my care."

"Can you prove that?"

Reg straightened his spine, glaring at them.
"You can't take her from me. Not now."

"She's an adult now, Reg. No one can make her
do anything she doesn't want to," Mallory said. "But we're going to
have to know where she came from. I mean, if she's not a blood
relative, then her name must not have been D'Voe, unless you had it
legally changed."

"Maybe we should just ask Amanda," Vince
suggested softly.

Reg came out of the chair as if launched,
and, in the blink of an eye, he grabbed Vince by the front of his
shirt, and pressed him up against the cell wall. "Don't! You
mustn't bring this up with her! You can't!"

The chief swore and gripped Reggie by the
shoulders. Jerry had started forward toward them, one hand on his
sidearm. Vince held up a hand to still them, but before he could
say anything the old man released him suddenly and staggered
backward, clutching his chest as the color drained completely from
his face. He hit the floor even as Vince lunged for him.