Gingerbread Man (36 page)

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no." She closed
her eyes, backing into the hallway now, and turning, stumbling into
the bedroom, slamming the door.

"Yes," he told her, raising his voice enough
so she could still hear, through the closed door. "I've been doing
this awhile. You can trust me on it, there's no other way." He
stepped into the hallway, too. She'd thrown the locks. He slammed
his hip against the door, and it popped open easily enough. She
whirled to face him, cowering. "Tell you what, though, honey. They
die happy. Those little girls die just squirming with pleasure. I
make sure of that."

She made a face and gripped her stomach as if
she were ill. "Where is she?" she asked. "Where is Bethany
Stevens?"

He licked his lips. "You don't think I'm
gonna share, now, do you?"

"God, you're insane!" She tried to duck past
him, toward the door, but he punched her in the belly. Gave her
such a blow that she doubled over, stumbled away from him. She fell
to her knees, hunched, gagging. He walked up behind her. Lifted the
cleaver. "I'll tell you the real trick to the whole process," he
said, keeping his tone conversational. "Keep the bodies around
until all the commotion dies down. Then you bury 'em far from where
you use them. And never,
ever
leave any witnesses. That's
really the main thing."

* * *

THE RAIN WAS falling harder than before.
Amanda opened the gates in front of Reginald D'Voe's place, still
wearing its Halloween decor, only now there was crime scene tape
added to the mix. Holly drove the car through. Then Amanda took her
inside, where they gathered up what they needed. Raincoats.
Flashlights. Amanda ran from room to room, gathering the items,
bringing them to Holly. They were ready now. It was to be on foot
from there on. It was understood. Holly didn't need to ask why. It
made perfect sense to her, though she supposed it wouldn't have to
most normal people.

Holly was worried about Amanda. She didn't
look steady on her feet physically, much less emotionally steady.
They walked back outside in the pouring rain, down the path to the
open gate, and stepped through it. Amanda closed the gate, then
they just stood there, with the rain pounding down on their yellow
hoods, on their backs and shoulders. Facing the mansion, Amanda
stood staring for a long moment. And then she nodded, and turned to
the left, and said, "I came from this way."

“Then we go this way," Holly told her. She
stayed close to Amanda as the two of them walked back along the
road. The gravel was wet, shiny in the beams of their flashlights.
Trees lined both sides. They walked for twenty yards, and then
Amanda stopped, lifting her head so the rain peppered her face,
looking left, then right. "Here," she said. "Here is where I found
the road again. Before that, I'd wandered through—” lifting her
head, she looked at the trees off the right "—woods."

"You came through the woods? Here, are you
sure?"

She nodded, and plunged into the wetness of
the trees with barely any hesitation. "Yes. Yes, this way. Look,
the trail is still here."

Holly shone her light ahead, saw the one area
through the woods that was clear of brush and trees. Even the weeds
on the three-foot-wide strip were trimmed low. There was a yellow
pole with black stripes sticking up out of the ground. "It's where
the natural gas line runs through, underground," Holly said. "They
keep the brush trimmed off it, so they can get to it to dig it up
for maintenance. Local kids use it as a shortcut to town. I use it
myself."

"It seemed like a trail to me." Amanda
hurried onto the path and began walking at a brisk pace along the
cleared section. Holly tried to keep up. She was freezing. Her
hands were cold and wet, and she dearly wished she had grabbed a
pair of gloves. She thought belatedly that they should have called
Vince from the house, told him what they were doing. But Amanda
didn't trust Vince right now. And Holly couldn't really say she
blamed her after he'd convinced her to reveal her scar to the
federal agent, knowing it would implicate Reggie.

“This trail cuts through the woods, right
along the south edge of the lake, and comes out at the edge of
town, near the cabins," she explained to Amanda. "Does any of that
sound familiar to you?"

Amanda shook her head. "No, not town. There
were no cabins." Her steps were slowing, until finally she stopped,
and stood still, head tipped back to the rain, eyes closed. "There
were more woods. Woods with no path. I came ... I came ..." She
tugged off her hood, and let the rain pour onto her head until it
darkened her hair. She turned in a slow circle. "I came from the
woods. I came through the woods a little ways before I found the
path. And when I found it I thought it was put there to help me.
Like when Snow White ran through the woods to escape the wicked
queen. I thought the animals—" She stopped there, turning to face
Holly, her eyes wide. "I remember that! There was a deer—a
deer—standing right on the path, that's how I found it. I went
toward the deer. It ran off, but not until I had found the
path."

Holly moved closer, gently touching Amanda's
arm. "That's good. It's good, Amanda, it's coming back to you now."
She studied Amanda's wet face, reached out to tug her hood back up.
Then she fastened the snap at her neck to keep it there. "Are you
okay?"

Amanda nodded, spinning away, jogging a few
more yards along the path. Then she stopped again, looking around.
"This way." She pointed.

"Are you sure, Amanda? I mean, town is only
another hundred yards or so that way. The cabins are less. The only
thing up this way is ... Amanda? Wait up."

Amanda was already hiking off the trail,
angling away from it.

And then lights shone through the trees, and
she went faster. Holly tried to stop her, but she couldn't catch
her as Amanda moved faster and faster. Then the trees ended at the
edge of a nicely manicured lawn. And Amanda stopped, and stared at
the red house with the white shutters.

"Here," she said. "I came from here." Her
eyes closed tight, Amanda pressed a hand to her head as if in great
pain.

"But, Amanda, that doesn't make any sense.
This is my uncle Marty's house."

* * *

THE NURSES ON Doris Newman's floor hadn't
seen Holly or Amanda. They were not in Doris's room. Mrs. Stevens
was sleeping, though restlessly, thanks to the sedatives she'd been
given. Reggie's guard said he'd had no visitors, and the doctor had
searched the entire hospital.

Vince, Jerry, Agent Selkirk, and Chief
Mallory stood in the parking lot outside the hospital, in the rain,
and Mallory said, "It's not here. Amanda D'Voe's car was parked out
here earlier, right there." He pointed to an empty space. "She
pulled in right behind me."

"Still think she's an innocent in all of
this, O'Mally?" Selkirk crossed his arms over his chest. "Panic
attacks my ass. The bitch needs to be interrogated, and when we
find her, you can bet I'll be the one doing it."

"She's a victim, Frank," Vince snapped. He
swiped a hand across his face to wipe away the rain that was
running from his hair.

"She
was
a victim. Now she's an
accessory. And if the Newman woman is helping her evade
questioning, then so is she."

"That's bull and you know it," Chief Mallory
protested. "Amanda wasn't in custody."

"She was told not to leave the hospital
without clearance," Selkirk said.

The chief shot Vince a pleading look. Vince
read it clearly. He didn't want this asshole to be the one to find
Amanda D'Voe. Vince didn't want him to be the one to find Holly.
But he was worried about more than that. Holly had a look about her
the last time they'd spoken. It was one he had seen before, one
that said she was keeping something from him.

"Look at the sign," Vince said, pointing. "
'Emergency Parking Only.' They probably moved the car, and then
found a place to get some sleep." He caught the chief's eye.

Mallory was blank for a second, then he
lifted his brows and jumped in. "That's right. I think one of the
hospital staff was saying the vehicles were going to have to be
moved." He glanced out over the lot. "Vince, Jerry, you two check
the front lot out, row by row, if necessary. Agent Selkirk and I
will cover the lot in the back." He looked at Selkirk. "It's right
around the corner. Come on." Then he just started walking, leaving
no time for arguments.

Selkirk followed Mallory as Vince led Jerry
out into the parking lot, toward his own car. And as soon as the
chief and Selkirk were out of sight, he yanked his keys out of his
pocket, slapped Jerry on the back, and said, "Let's hit it."

They were in the Jeep, pulling out of the
parking lot seconds later.

"So, where do we begin?"

"I don't know," Vince said. "Holly's house.
Amanda's house. Whatever the hell they're up to, I imagine it
started with a stop at home. Seems like they'd want an umbrella if
nothing else."

"I suppose that makes as much sense as
anything." Jerry shook his head. "Why do you think they took
off?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think they could have reached the
same conclusion we did, back there?"

Vince's fingers tightened on the steering
wheel. "I hope so."

"Really?" Jerry looked at Vince in surprise.
"I thought you wanted them kept in the dark until we knew for
sure."

"I do. But the only other reason I can think
of for them to take off like this is that maybe Amanda started to
remember something."

Jerry blinked, then his eyes widened. "About
the killer? Holy shit! You think they've gone after him?"

"God, I hope not," Vince said grimly. He
remembered all too well what it had done to him to walk into that
room in the rundown house and find the bodies of Kara and Bobby
Prague. Holly couldn't survive something like that. Amanda probably
couldn't either. "I hope not."

* * *

“THIS IS YOUR uncle's house?" Amanda asked,
searching Holly's face.

Holly nodded. "I don't understand this. Are
you sure, Amanda?"

Amanda looked at the house, at the lighted
windows, the shutters. "I remember standing right here, looking at
that house, and knowing I had to get away. Away from that house.
He
was in there." She covered her face with her hands, and
Holly wrapped her arms around Amanda protectively, instinctively
holding her hard and close.

"It's all right. Nothing can hurt you
now."

Amanda looked up, tears mixing with the rain
on her face. "We aren't frightened little girls anymore."

"No." Holly's head was still spinning. Uncle
Marty. It made no sense. But there was no time to work it all out,
not now. "But Bethany is. And she needs us. I can go in alone, if
you want."

"No. No, I'll go with you."

Nodding, Holly hooked her arm through
Amanda's, and they walked across the lawn, toward the back door.
Holly reached up to ring the bell, but Amanda caught her hand.
"Just... try the door."

Holly glanced sideways, saw the closed garage
door, and beyond its windows, the glint of metal. "Looks like Aunt
Jen is home. Her car's in the garage." She couldn't see if Uncle
Marty's bread truck was back from its most recent run. It would be
around the far side where the driveway looped around the house.
"It's going to be all right, Amanda." She gripped the knob, and
turned it slowly.

It wasn't locked.

There was nothing strange about that. It was
a small town. Folks rarely locked their doors when they were away,
much less when they were at home. She pushed the door open and
stepped inside.

The lights were on, and the living room was a
mess. Cabinets and drawers, the closet, everything open and things
strewn everywhere. The cushions on the sofa were askew, as if
someone had pulled them off and then tossed them carelessly back
down again. "My God," she whispered. "Someone must have broken in.
Aunt Jen?" she called.

A door slammed. The side door.

Holly jumped out of her skin, and Amanda
gripped her arm. "Come on."

Slowly, they moved forward, into the dining
room. The kitchen and its side door were off to the right, but
Holly could see nothing that way except more chaos. Certainly no
one was out there. The screen door was banging in the wind, though.
That must have been the slam she had heard.

To the left was a short hallway, leading to
the bedroom. She turned in that direction, with Amanda clinging to
her arm, and went to the master bedroom door. "Aunt Jen?"

No sound came in reply.

She pushed the door open. The light in there
was off, so she reached around to snap it on.

In the middle of the floor, Aunt Jen was
curled into a tight ball, in a pool of crimson. It looked as if a
pile of raw meat had been dumped on her back, but only at first
glance. A large meat cleaver was implanted in the back of her
head.

Amanda made a choking sound, and twisted
away, stumbling back down the hall.

Holly, shaking all over, didn't. She moved
forward. "Aunt Jen? Oh. God, Aunt Jen?"

Her feet stopping at the outermost edge of
the blood pool, she reached down to grip her aunt's warm wrist. She
had to. The edge of Aunt Jen's sleeve was soaked in crimson. It
touched Holly's fingers as she searched for a pulse, but she found
none.

Vaguely she heard a motor start. She dropped
her aunt's wrist and left the bedroom. Amanda was standing in the
dining room, staring out a window, and looking close to the edge of
endurance. Eyes wide, pupils dilated, not even blinking. Holly went
to her. "Are you all right?"

"I was never in this house, but I saw him
come in here. That's why I had to run away from it. That's why I
saw it from outside. I was never in the house. I was in the
truck."