Gingerbread Man

part of his recurring pattern, and to be avoided at all costs. Maybe it was something more.
    She didn't talk to him for a while. She replaced the photo in the glove compartment, turned on the radio, leaned back in her seat, and stared out the window.
    Finally, he said, "I'm sorry I did that. It was wrong of me."
    She said nothing.
    "I didn't mean to hurt you, Red."
    "Don't be so vain, Vince. I just found out the man who killed my baby sister is still walking the streets. Your temper tantrum isn't even on my list of concerns." She looked at her hands, clenched tight in her lap, white and trembling. "I don't know what to tell my mother. This is going to kill her."
    He felt like an assassin for having forced her to look at the photo that haunted his every thought. "Don't tell her anything, just yet. You don't have any proof."
    "What do you mean?" She sent him a look out of wide, troubled eyes. "I was there. I looked into his eyes."
    "I know that. But it's been years."
    "It doesn't matter."
    "You didn't say anything until now."
    "I didn't
remember
until now. I thought you said you believed me?"
    "I do. I'm just telling you what other people are liable to say."
    She shook her head. "They have to reopen the case."
    "They who, Holly?"
    "The authorities. You, for God's sake. You keep telling me how I have to be strong enough to face this, and I have to take charge. Jesus Christ, Vince, it's not my job. There's a government, a system. They have to start looking for him again. Are you telling me my word won't be good enough to make them do that?"
    "Holly..." he began.
    "You know he was lying. You knew it before I did. Didn't you?"
    "I had a feeling, yeah." He sighed deeply, flicking on the wipers as it started to rain. "Most of these types have an m.o. and they stick to it. They prey on kids of a certain age, coloring, and gender. It didn't make a lot of sense to think Hubey Welles would have both male and female victims. When I got to checking, I found all the solid evidence they had on him was related to murdered boys. The murders he confessed to, three of them, all unsolved, were little girls. No hard evidence beyond his confession ever surfaced."
    "Then you were right. He cut a deal with the D.A. He'd confess to the murders, in exchange for a life sentence rather than the death penalty."
    "I have to assume he was convincing. The D.A. must have honestly believed he could have done those crimes. And God knows it would have been at least some relief to the families to be able to have closure," Vince said slowly.
    "It was false closure. Now they have to admit that and reopen the cases. All three of them."
    "Holly,
I'm
not even supposed to be working this case, if you want to know the truth. This vacation I keep saying I'm on? It wasn't by choice."
    She stared hard at him, and for the life of him he couldn't believe he was telling her any of this. "Why?" she asked.
    "I suppose if you asked my chief, he'd say it was due to severe stress. He thought I showed signs of losing it after I found those two kids."
    Her gaze fell to the closed glove compartment. "You cared too much. Didn't you? Got too involved."
    He thought for a moment. "My life is my job. You know that?"
    "No, I didn't."
    "It is. I've never been married. I've never wanted to do much of anything else except be a cop. Most of my pay goes into the bank, not that I give a crap how much I have. No house. I live in an apartment, a decent apartment, but nothing too nice. It wouldn't be worth it. I don't spend enough time there to make it all that important"
    "You have a nice enough car," she commented.
    He smiled a little. "You want to know why I bought it?"
    "Yeah."
    "I was on my way to a crime scene last February in my beat-up Buick, and I got stuck on an icy hill. Had to wait for a sand truck to come by before I could get up and over, and by then the case had been assigned to someone else."
    "And it pissed you off so much you went out and bought a Jeep?"
    "All-wheel drive," he said. "I don't get stuck anymore."
    She nodded. "You sound like a good cop."
    "Been at it a long time."
    "Then how did you manage to get so involved in this case?"
    He glanced at her, then focused on the road again, saying nothing.
    "I mean, an enforced leave of absence. Digging around in it when you've been ordered not to. Carrying the kids' pictures around with you. They don't sound like the kinds of things a seasoned detective would do."
    He drew a breath, sighed. "I made a mistake."
    "Must have