Gingerbread Man

been a big one."
    He nodded. "I promised Sara Prague I'd find her kids for her, and that everything would be all right."
    She turned wide eyes on him. "That was a tall promise."
    "It was one I never should have made. She believed me, you know. She really believed me. And I..."
    He didn't finish, concentrating on driving instead, and on pretending his eyes weren't burning like two hot coals.
    "There's a lot more to you than I thought," she said softly.
    "I'm a cop. That's all, Holly. That's all I am, and all I want to be."
    He shifted uncomfortably under her penetrating gaze. She was seeing a lot more than he wanted to reveal. "Does it really matter what you want to be?" She shook her head slowly. "I don't think it does, you know. I want to be a normal, well-adjusted woman. I want to be able to get through a day without turning the light switches off in the right order, or moving the pencil holder on my desk half an inch to the left." She hesitated for a moment, then went on. "Most of all, I want to be the girl who saved her little sister from an attempted kidnapping eighteen years ago. But I'm not. I'm not any of those things."
    He looked at her, looked real deep into her eyes. They seemed able to see straight through him, and they touched him in places that hadn't been touched in a long time. He didn't like that a bit. And he didn't like thinking they had a lot in common, the two of them. Because he wanted to be the cop-hero who'd saved the Prague kids in the nick of time. He wanted to be the man who didn't break promises to broken mothers.
    * * *
    HOLLY WAS FRIGHTENED, more frightened than she had been on her way to Auburn to see Hubey Welles. More frightened than she had been in years, to be honest. She could feel the old terror creeping in like a dark shadow over her soul. And though the desire to face it, to fight it, as Vince kept insisting she must, was still strong, the fear was stronger. Her monster was still on the loose. The villain of her darkest nightmares was free. He could be anywhere. Anyone. She wasn't sure she could stand to go through her day-to-day existence knowing that. She'd only come as far as she had because she'd believed him behind bars. The case closed. Justice served. That was the foundation on which she'd rebuilt her life, her mind, her sanity. And that foundation had been ripped out from beneath her.
    God, would she revert then? Would the panic attacks, and the nightmares, and the obsessive behavior slowly take over her life the way they had before?
    Vince kept looking at her, searching her face with worry in his. He kept asking if she was okay. She didn't really know how to answer that.
    As they rounded the corner toward Holly's house, a shadow caught Holly's attention, from the corner of her eye, and she felt an old dread in the pit of her stomach as she jerked her head toward it.
    It was there, and then gone, all in the space of a heartbeat. The dark shape of the van had vanished around the bend just as she turned to look at it.
    Her heartbeat slammed against her chest "Did you see that?" she asked Vince.
    He glanced at her. "See what?"
    Holly closed her eyes. Hell, she'd seen the van in her dreams. Maybe it hadn't even been there. Maybe she'd just...
    "The front door is open. Vince, the front door is open!" Holly was wrenching her passenger door open before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop. She lunged out of the car and ran toward the house, with her heart in her throat. She surged up the steps, ran through the open front door, and saw her mother, lying on the sofa, one arm dangling limply, hand dragging the floor. She took a step toward her, then stopped when her foot hit paper. She looked down.
    A copy of her sister's missing-child poster lay on the floor, face up.
    Holly yanked it up, bit back a scream, and lunged across the room to where her mother lay. "Mom!" She fell to her knees, skidding on the carpet and grabbed her mother's shoulder. .
    Doris's eyes flew open, and she blinked at her daughter. "What's wrong, Holly? My goodness, hon, you look like you've seen a ghost."
    "You ... you're okay." Holly sank back onto her heels, her hand still clasping her mother's shoulder. "You're okay."
    "Well, of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be? You're the one I've been worried about."
    "I... the door. The front door. Was open, and ..." Holly still held the poster in one hand. She drew that hand downward slowly, slid the sheet of paper underneath her blouse, so her mother