Gingerbread Man

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 whatsoever.
    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.

FIVE
----

    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.