Gingerbread Man (9 page)

"Yes, I know, I read that somewhere,
too."

"You're right that he moved away. Oh, it must
have been fifteen years ago, give or take. But he never sold the
place. He and his niece only moved back here the year before last."
Then she nudged her daughter. "Hon, take Vince over and introduce
him to Reggie."

Holly sighed. "Okay, just don't go asking for
an autograph or fussing. He doesn't like it. Frankly, I'm surprised
he even showed up for this."

"So am I. The celebrity scandal sheets make
him sound borderline agoraphobic."

"They exaggerate," she said, looking at him
in surprise. "You really are a fan, aren't you?"

"Not a fanatical one. But, yeah, if I see his
name on the cover I'll usually buy the magazine and read the
article. And I have several of his films on DVD. Not the full
collection or anything, but..." He shrugged.

She thought he seemed almost embarrassed to
admit to having followed the old actor's career, and it did seem a
little out of character. But somehow, it made him seem a little
more human. A little less intimidating. She walked across the sand
with O'Mally at her side. A little too close, maybe. She wouldn't
have minded, if he had been anyone else. But she seemed to feel his
closeness more than she felt anyone else's.

"He's really not the hermit the press makes
him out to be," she said, just to get conversation going again. She
didn't like silence as a rule. Less so with him nearby. "He's
reinstating his annual Halloween party for the kids this year, you
know."

As she spoke, little Bethany Stevens climbed
up onto Reggie's lap.

Vince stopped walking suddenly, and when
Holly looked at him, his expression was hard and cold as he stared
at Reggie. "He likes kids, does he?"

Startled, Holly studied him. What was that in
his voice, just then? It hadn't sounded like a casual question.
"It's not the kind of thing they'd play up in the press," she said
at last. "Not in keeping with his dark, menacing image, I suppose.
But yes, Reggie loves kids. They say he always has."

“ACCORDING TO LOCAL gossip, he's always loved
kids," Holly went on. "Aunt Jen says before he moved away back in
the eighties, he had a Halloween party every year for the little
ones. It was the biggest event of the year in this town. And Reggie
always had lots of special effects and spooky surprises. They still
talk about those parties around here."

"And who's the woman?" He nodded toward where
Reggie sat, with the young woman standing at his back.

"That's his niece, Amanda. She came to live
with him when she was little. Mom says her parents were killed in
some kind of accident. Poor thing."

Vince seemed deep in thought. She wasn't even
sure he was still listening. "So, do you want to meet him, or
what?" she finally asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I do."

Odd, how his attitude seemed to have changed
all of the sudden. He'd been almost relaxed—or as close to it as
she figured he was capable of being—and now he seemed tense and
tight again. Even more tense and tight than usual.

Go figure. Normally, she and her mom would be
enjoying snacks with Uncle Marty and Aunt Jen by this point in the
festivities. But not this year. Nothing was normal this year, nor
had been since O'Mally had come into town.

They continued to where Reginald D'Voe sat.
They had to pick their way among the small bodies all around him.
Most of the kids were sitting. Bethany was saying, “Tell us the one
about the werewolf, Reggie. Like you did when you came to story day
at school!"

"No, no," another child piped in. "The
vampires. Tell us one of the vampire stories."

Reggie held up a hand as he saw Holly and
Vince approaching. "Be patient, my friends, be patient. We have
grown-ups to contend with first." But he said it with a smile, as
he nodded hello to Holly.

Bethany jumped off his lap to run up to Holly
and grab her hand. "Holly's here!" she said, grinning ear to ear.
Then in a conspiratorial whisper to Reginald, "She's gonna help me
make my costume for your party, Reggie! It's gonna be the best one
in town."

"I can't wait to see it," Reggie said in a
stage whisper.

Amanda D'Voe sent Holly a smile, as well. But
she didn't hold her gaze long. She never held anyone's gaze long.
Her eyes were usually cast slightly downward. Amanda was slim and
pretty, with hair a light shade of brown that was almost blonde,
but not quite. Sweet and painfully shy, she was as much a recluse
as her uncle.

"It's so good to see you both here," Holly
said to the two of them.

"And you, as well," Reginald replied. "Holly
Newman, isn't it?"

Holly smiled. "I'm surprised you
remember!"

"I try to make it a point to know all my
neighbors." The man was thin, his face harsh and lined, but he
still had that star quality that had made him so famous, and the
distinctive appearance with the sculpted features and angular
brows. His hair was silver now, but his eyes were just as clear and
blue as ever they had been on the big screen. And he still spoke in
that unidentifiable accent that was some cross between British and
Romanian. "How is your dear mother?" he asked.

"Oh, she's great. She's here," Holly gestured
toward her mom, who was unloading a picnic basket with help from
Chief Mallory. She leaned down to Bethany. "My mom brought some of
those oatmeal chocolate chunk cookies you like so much."

"Really?" The little girl's eyes widened.
Then she spun on her heel and ran toward Doris and the chief.

Reginald laughed softly, a deep, quiet sound
she'd heard a thousand times in his films. Usually with a
diabolical undertone to it, though. There was none tonight. "Your
mother is luring my audience away with those cookies," he said, his
tone teasing. "She shouldn't make me angry." And that time he used
his most menacing inflection, narrowing his eyes and bending those
angular brows in a way that had sent shivers up countless spines in
the past. The kids seated on the ground around him laughed with
delight.

Amanda shook her head. "Uncle Reggie, you're
impossible."

He patted her slender hand on his shoulder.
"Fortunately, I'm quite possible. Now, as for you,"—he said,
addressing Holly again—"do you intend to introduce us to your
companion or did you bring him as some kind of offering?"

"Oh, yes, right," she said with an apologetic
glance at Vince. "This is Vincent O'Mally. Vince, Reginald D'Voe,
and his niece, Amanda."

Vince extended a hand, and Reginald took it,
still smiling. But his smile seemed to freeze when Holly said,
"Vince is a detective from the Syracuse Police Department."

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. D'Voe," Vince
was saying, his tone reserved, his eyes watchful. "I'm a longtime
fan." Then he turned slightly, offering his hand to Amanda as well.
But before he could touch her, Reginald reached up and grabbed hold
of her wrist.

"Amanda, I seem to have left my books in the
car. Do you mind?" Reginald asked.

"Of course not," Amanda replied in her soft
voice. "It's very nice to meet you. Detective. Good to see you
again, too, Holly." She leaned down to kiss her uncle's cheek
before rushing off to the parking area.

Vince's eyes followed her, the look in them
intense. Holly felt suddenly like so much chopped liver. Oh, great.
What was up with that?

"'Again'?" Reginald asked, addressing Holly.
"I wasn't aware you and Amanda were acquainted."

Holly tried to stop watching Vince watch
Amanda, and drew her gaze back to Reggie. "We only knew each other
in passing, up until a couple of weeks ago. Mom was late for our
lunch date, and Amanda was in the cafe picking up takeout. We ended
up having coffee together while she waited for her order."

"I see," Reggie said.

"She came to live with you as a small child,
Holly tells me," Vince said, his gaze returning to D'Voe only when
Amanda was out of sight.

"That's right." D'Voe pulled his blanket
closer and changed the subject. "What are you doing in Dilmun,
Detective?"

"I'm here on vacation."

"How nice. I hope you enjoy your stay."
Reggie turned his attention to Holly so totally, so firmly, it felt
as if Vince had been dismissed. Holly had never seen the retired
actor behave so rudely. It was completely unlike him—at least, she
thought it was. She didn't know him well, but any time she had run
into him he'd always been polite. Almost exaggeratedly so. "Do tell
your mother to come over and say hello, Holly. I haven't spoken
with her in months."

"I will," she said.

"And now ..." He looked at the children all
around him. "That story I promised you, hmm?" The kids cheered and
shouted requests. Holly turned to go, realizing it was time. But
Vince didn't seem inclined to follow. Amanda was on her way back
now, three or four books in her hands, and Vince's attention seemed
riveted. Holly finally grabbed his arm and gave a tug, snapping his
reverie. He followed her as she left the group.

***

THE DARKNESS WAS complete, and someone put a
torch to the pile of brush. The fire caught and blazed hot,
snapping and sending sparks and flames high into the night sky. The
band, which consisted of two guys with acoustic guitars and
passably decent voices, and a third guy on drums, began to play.
Vince walked around with Holly, let her introduce him to people,
tried to sound mildly interested in their small-town small talk,
but he kept his eyes on Amanda D'Voe and her famous uncle.
Something wasn't right there. The old man had tensed up the minute
Holly told him Vince was a cop. Why? What did he have to hide? And
why had he sent his timid niece scurrying away?

Vince sat on a blanket with Holly, her
mother, and the chief. He ate cold fried chicken and potato salad.
He said all the right things, complimented the cooking, talked shop
with Chief Mallory, kept it light, and steered conversation away
from anything to do the alleged break-in at the cabin, or the real
reason he was in town. He thought he was doing great, right up
until the chief of police took Doris's hand and led her out to
where people were pairing up to dance. That was when Holly turned
to him and said, "Do you want to dance?"

Her face was slightly flushed, her eyes
sparkling with something. Not excitement Not happiness. Something
else. He didn't think his dancing with her was all that great an
idea, but didn't know how to say so without offending her, so he
nodded. "Sure, why not?" He got to his feet. Holly didn't. He held
out a hand. But Holly remained sitting.

"I thought you wanted to dance," he said,
confused.

"Who me? No, Vince, not me. Amanda."

He blinked. "I... I'm not following."

"Go ask Amanda to dance," she said. "You've
been staring at her all evening. Don't rein yourself in on my
account, Vince, I really couldn't care less."

Okay, so maybe he hadn't been handling things
as well as he'd thought. And this was a problem. Because, while he
didn't want to alienate Holly Newman until he'd learned what the
hell she was hiding, he didn't want her getting ideas about him
either. She was the furthest thing from the kind of involvement he
wanted or needed right now. And that edge in her voice just now had
sounded like a hint of jealousy. He was walking a goddamned
tightrope here. But, solving this case was the most important
thing. More important than anything else, and if she wound up
getting her feelings hurt in the process, that was a small price to
pay. He had resolved to do what he had to in order to find the
truth, and that included using Holly Newman. If it seemed slightly
heartless to his more compassionate side, all he had to do was
remember the Prague kids. The way they'd ended up. The nightmare
he'd walked in on in that abandoned house less than a week ago.

He gripped Holly's hand and pulled her to her
feet. "If I wanted to dance with Amanda D'Voe, I'd have asked her.
What do you think, I'm shy or something?"

She shrugged, but let him pull her along into
the area where couples were dancing. "Hey, it's nothing to me
either way."

He claimed a spot for them, and the band
immediately ended the upbeat ditty they'd been playing and switched
to their rendition of "Lying Eyes." Slow and mellow. He almost
groaned because he knew slow dancing with her was an even worse
idea, but he couldn't very well say so. So he pulled her closer.
Not too close, though. He fit his hands to her waist, and tried not
to notice any physical reaction to her arms linking around his neck
as they started moving to the music.

Although
he felt
one. And he
attributed
that
to it having been a long time between
one-night stands.

"So what is it then?" she was asking.

"What is what?"

"The reason you've been watching Amanda all
night"

He looked at her sharply. "Just curious, I
guess."

"Why?"

"Why do you want to know?" he asked.

"Just curious, I guess."

She was good at sparring, witty and quick.
This was not the same Holly Newman who'd been damn close to
hysterics over thinking she had glimpsed an intruder at his place.
She was complicated. He had to remember that. When he'd met her he
had labeled her weak and fragile, then he had decided she was a
snoop. More recently he'd been thinking of her as fearful and
troubled. Now she was something altogether different yet again.

Finally, she sighed as if in capitulation.
"Fine, I'll fill you in. Amanda was orphaned when she was a little
girl. Of course I didn't live here then, but gossip has an
unlimited life span in this town, so I've heard all the stories.
She came out here to live with Reginald after her family died, and
they say she wasn't quite right. Probably just the trauma of losing
her parents, but the rumor is that she didn't speak at all when she
first moved in with Reggie. Doc Graycloud spent a lot of time with
her when they still lived here. Then they moved out west somewhere.
The press said L.A., but the locals say it was Arizona and the
California story was just to keep the paparazzi off their backs.
The move was for Amanda's health, they said. And now they're back.
End of story."