Gingerbread Man

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.
    Marty, as he insisted Vince call him, was a friendly fellow with a ready smile, a paunch of a belly, and a reddish horseshoe of hair surrounding a shiny patch of scalp. He wore plaid flannel and carried a toolbox. You had to like a guy who wore plaid flannel and carried a toolbox. Right now he was crouching near the door, examining the lock the way a surgeon examines a tumor, and shaking his head. "You're right you know. These locks are jokes. Any twelve-year-old with a Swiss army knife could get in, if he wanted to. It just never occurred to me we might need serious locks out here. I can't even remember when there's been a break-in."
    "Right," Vince said, "Nothing bad ever happens in Dilmun."
    Marty smiled broadly. "It's practically the town motto." Then he sighed. "Guess we've let ourselves get a little complacent out here."
    "Maybe. But we aren't even sure there was anyone in here. There's no sign of an intruder, and Holly didn't actually see him."
    Marty nodded, looked troubled for a moment, opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it.
    Vince took note of all of it. "What?" he asked.
    Marty brushed off his hands, got to his feet. "Holly ... no. Nevermind, it's not important. Look, I can get a decent deadbolt on this door for you tomorrow. Hardware store is already closed tonight, or I'd take care of it right now."
    "Not a problem," Vince told him. "You want a beer, Marty?"
    "Love one. Thanks."
    Vince walked to the kitchenette, grabbed a beer out of the fridge for each of them, talking as he did. "I appreciate you coming over so fast. Chief Mallory must have called you in a hurry." He was in no hurry to get rid of the guy, now that it seemed he knew something about Holly Newman that he was keeping to himself.
    "Nah, the chief knew he didn't have to bother. Doris called me just a little while ago."
    "Oh." Vince handed Marty his beer while his brain processed the information.
    "Doris is