Gingerbread Man (7 page)

He heard the phone shift hands, heard Katie
call to her husband, and then Jerry's voice came. "Vince? Where the
hell are you, anyway?"

"I'm fine, lounging in a nice little rustic
cabin on a lake. It's freaking paradise, pal."

"So what's wrong, Vince?"

Vince frowned at the phone. "What makes you
think anything's wrong?"

"You called me."

Vince drew a breath. His partner knew him too
well. "I need a favor."

"I knew it."

"A discreet favor, Jerry."

"You're working the Prague case, aren't you?
Dammit, Vince—"

"I have a name I want you to run for me. Not
just for a criminal record—I really don't think you'll find
anything there. But check anyway. And newspapers, too, old files.
I'll take anything you can come up with, going back..."—he paused
to flip open a notebook, for the date he'd found stamped on the
library book—"go all the way back to eighty-three, just for the
hell of it."

Jerry sighed and said nothing.

"You want to put away the creep who murdered
those kids or not, partner?"

"You know damn well I do. I'd also like to
keep my job long enough to collect my pension, you know what I
mean?" Another sigh. "What's the name?"

"Newman," Vince said. "Holly. Mother's name
is Doris. They lived in Syracuse until five years ago. That's about
all I have."

He heard Jerry scribbling. Then, "Vince, you
know most of these types of crimes are committed by men."

"I know. But this woman knows something, I'd
lay money on it."

Silence, long and drawn out. Then, finally,
Jerry said, "Tell you what. I'll run the info if you'll tell me
where the hell you are."

"Place called Dilmun, on Cayuga Lake," he
said. "That's between you and me."

"For now, it is," Jerry replied. "What are
you doing there, Vince?"

"I told you," Vince said. "I'm on vacation."
He hung up the phone, and told himself he wasn't interested in
Holly Newman's background for any other reason than how it might
tie in with his case. He couldn't care less what kinds of demons
haunted her. It was no concern of his.

* * *

"SO JUST WHAT happened out there, Holly?"

Looking sideways at the chief as he drove,
Holly shook her head. "I was just walking." She tried to keep her
voice from trembling, and giving away her true state. She was
shaken, right to the core. She was scared on so many levels she
couldn't begin to take stock. And her sense of security, which
she'd built so carefully and so strongly here in this town, was
shattered. Something was happening. Something was bringing it all
back, and it seemed as if she had no control over it whatsover.

That was what shook her most of all. That
feeling of things moving beyond her control.

"You don't
go
walking. You go straight
home, every day, same route. You know it and I know it."

Holly sighed and faced him. "I'm trying to
get over that," she said, and she knew damned good and well it was
a lie. She didn't want to get over it. She needed it. "I'm trying
new things, breaking old habits. It's good for me. "

"I wouldn't say it was all that good for you
today."

He was almost pouting. Big, strong Chief
Mallory, looking like a scared kid. She forced a smile that was far
from genuine. "You sure did get there in a hurry," she said, trying
to change the subject. "What did you do, fly?"

"I was on my way home. When O'Mally called I
was just around the corner. I called Bill and told him to meet me
here." He shook his head slowly. "Your mother is going have kittens
over this, Holly."

"Not if you don't make a big deal about it,
she won't."

He pursed his lips, turned the car onto
Lakeview and slowed to a crawl. "I'm not gonna say a word. It's
your call. You're an adult." Finally, he stopped in front of
Holly's house. She saw her mother part the curtains and look out at
them, and she waved.

The chief said, "Holly, try to keep clear of
this O'Mally character, will you?"

Startled, Holly turned to face him again.
"Why?" He avoided her eyes, and she caught her breath. "You know
what he's really doing here, don't you?"

"No. Not yet. But I don't have a good feeling
about him. Just... be careful, all right?"

She nodded. "I will." Then she sighed. "Stop
worrying about me, will you? I'm fine."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "See you at the bonfire tomorrow
night?"

"You bet."

Holly got out of the car and closed the door.
The chief watched her all the way into the front door of her house
before he drove away. Inside, she smelled chicken roasting in the
oven, and smiled at the familiarity of it. It was Friday. They
always had chicken on Fridays. She closed her eyes, her relief so
intense she was near tears.

***

CHIEF MALLORY DIDN'T go home, he went back
into town and had Maddie Baker let him into the library's basement.
He was the chief of police here; he was also one of a few remaining
eligible bachelors. The other two were Dr. Ernie Graycloud, and
Reginald D'Voe, the retired actor, but old Reggie didn't socialize
much, and Ernie had publicly declared his intent to remain single
to his dying day. Maddie Baker was a spinster whose voice always
softened when she spoke to the chief. And she was only ten years
his elder, so she probably held out hope, despite his relationship
with Doris. It didn't take much talking, and only minimal flirting,
to convince her to hand over the key, and trust him to lock up for
her when he left.

It took him three hours to find what he was
looking for, but he finally did. The library had three copies of
The Gingerbread Man
through 1982. In 1983, one copy went
missing and had to be replaced. The last person to check that book
out of the Dilmun public library ...

Mallory read the name, closed his eyes, shook
his head.

Holly Newman. Dammit straight to hell.

CHIEF JIM MALLORY sat in a rocking chair on
the front porch of his log cabin. A wicker table sat beside him,
with a glass of iced tea and a cordless phone on it. He liked his
cabin. It sat just a little bit above the town, and gave him the
feeling he was watching over Dilmun, even when he wasn't in his
office.

He was troubled tonight. And he knew there
were other men in this town who would be just as troubled when he
let them know what was going on. There was no use stirring all this
up. He needed to let them know, though. They needed to figure out
how best to deal with it.

Sighing, he picked up his cordless phone, and
keyed in Ernie Graycloud's number. Ernie answered on the third
ring, just about the time Mallory was beginning to wonder if he was
busy with a patient or had been called in to the hospital or
something.

"Yeah, what is it?" he asked by way of a
greeting. He always sounded slightly grumpy on the phone. It was
his way.

"It's Jim. Listen, we need to get together.
Something's going on, and I don't like it."

He heard Ernie's sigh. "This got anything to
do with that cop who showed up in town?"

"Yeah. He's showing way too much interest in
Holly Newman. It's not good, Ernie."

"I was afraid of that. Heard he was sniffing
around her. He digging into the past?"

"It looks that way."

Ernie made a sound, halfway between a grunt
and a clearing of his throat. "Have you talked to Marty about
this?"

"No, but I'm gonna call him next. We should
get together, talk face-to-face."

"That would be best," Ernie said. "It won't
do to have this stirred up."

"Agreed."

"Good. Let me know when and where. I'll be
there."

"I knew I could count on you, Ernie." Mallory
hung up the phone, leaned back in his rocker, and looked toward the
town spread out in the distance. It was his town. Nothing bad ever
happened there. It was up to him to keep it that way. And he damned
well intended to do just that.

* * *

DORIS NEWMAN STACKED the last plate in the
dishwasher, added detergent, and closed the door. "I don't like it.
No, not one bit. Does your uncle Marty know about this person you
thought you saw creeping around Detective O'Mally's place?"

Holly was elbow deep in soapy water,
scrubbing the roasting pan. Helping her mom with cleanup after
dinner was part of her daily ritual, and she was trying hard to
lose herself in it. "I have no idea. I imagine the chief called him
by now. I mean, it's his cabin. He'll have to be notified." She
kept on scrubbing. "Besides, like I said, I'm not even sure anyone
was there. I mean, I was at first, but..." She shrugged, and sighed
heavily.

Her mother glanced at her, a touch of worry
clouding her eyes. "You mean you think you might have imagined
it?'

Holly controlled her expression. "Of course
not. I saw
something.
I wouldn't have made Vince—Detective
O'Mally—call Jim if I hadn't seen
something.
I'm just not
sure what."

Her mother nodded, but Holly didn't know if
she was convinced or not. God, she didn't want to worry her mom.
Her mother had been through enough in her life. If the scales of
justice were to be balanced, her mother would know nothing but
sheer bliss for the rest of her days.

"I just don't understand," Doris continued,
speaking slowly now. She came to the sink, took a sponge and dipped
it in the soapy water, then she took it to the round table and
wiped it off. "What in the world were you doing out at the lake
anyway, Holly?"

Holly felt herself stiffen, but kept her back
to her mother. "I just decided to take the long way home for a
change. There won't be any foliage at all soon, and it's always
prettiest around the water."

Doris stopped wiping. Holly heard the
cessation of movement and felt her mother's eyes drilling into her
back. "Please don't lie to me, Holly."

Forcing a smile, lifting her chin, hoping her
eyes appeared shadow free, Holly turned to face her mother. "It's
not a lie."

"You decided to take the long way
home—something you haven't done since—"

"Don't." Holly turned back to the sink too
quickly. "Just don't, don't bring it up."

Her mother was silent for a long moment. Then
she spoke again. "You decided to look at the foliage, on the most
overcast day we've had in weeks, when most of the trees are all but
bare."

Holly swallowed hard. "Fine, you don't have
to believe me. Why do
you
think I took that route home?" She
scrubbed harder on the pot.

Her mother sighed long and slow. Then she
spoke, and her voice seemed a bit lighter than before. "I think you
went out there to visit Detective O'Mally."

The relief that washed through Holly that her
mother was so far from the real reason, was short-lived. Disbelief
followed on its heels. "That's the most ridiculous thing you've
ever said to me."

"Is it?" her mother came closer, leaned over
Holly's shoulder. "Then why are you scrubbing the finish off my
best baking pan. Holly?"

Holly stopped scrubbing. She let her mother
shoulder her aside, rinse the pan, and set it upside down in the
dish drainer. What was she supposed to say? That she suspected the
man was here for reasons he wasn't giving? That his very presence
seemed to be stirring to life her most deeply buried ghosts? No.
No, she wouldn't put her mother through that.

"It's all right, hon," Doris said, pulling
the plug, wiping the sink as the water ran down the drain. "To tell
you the truth, I'm thrilled to see you showing some interest in a
man. I was beginning to think you never would."

She blinked and looked at her mother.
"Interest?"

"He's not exactly handsome, is he? It's more
a charismatic sort of thing, I think, that makes him seem so
attractive."

"Attractive?"
She thought he looked
burned out and tired.

"And he
certainly
returns your
interest."

She released a burst of air that was almost a
snort.

"He
does,
Holly. It was obvious at the
cafe. You should have heard him asking me all about you while you
were in the restroom. Listen, I'm going to call your uncle Marty
and make sure he knows about this break-in incident. But after
that—"

"What was he asking?"

Her mother was halfway to the telephone on
the opposite wall, but she stopped and turned back with an
inquiring expression.

"What did he want to know about me?"

"Oh, the usual kinds of things. How long
you'd been working for the chief, what you like to do with your
free time, whether you were seeing anyone." She smiled
knowingly.

Holly had a knot in her stomach. Why was this
man asking about her? It wasn't for the reasons her mother had
concocted. He was in this town for a purpose, and it had something
to do with her. And maybe... maybe with Ivy, too. The idea sent her
pulse racing. She felt the blood rushing in her temples, thudding
there.

"After I get off the phone with Marty, you
should give that man a call," Doris went on. "Why don't you invite
him to the bonfire tomorrow night?"

Holly searched her mind for a reason. "You
know the phones aren't turned on at the cabins."

"He had a cell phone. I saw it at the
cafe?'

Holly tried to remain calm. "I don't have his
number."

"Marty will have it. He rented the man the
cabin, after all." Wiping her hands on a dishtowel, Doris walked
with a bounce in her step the rest of the way to the telephone on
the wall, and dialed her brother-in-law's number.

***

MARTIN CANTRELL SEEMED more upset about the
alleged intruder than Vince was, when he showed up at the cabin.
Vince hadn't met the man face-to-face yet. The arrangements had all
been made by phone, and the key had been waiting under a flowerpot
when Vince had arrived.