Gingerbread Man

and faxes interrupting every five minutes. All right?"
    He nodded. "All right. I'm with you."
    "No you're not. But you're all I've got right now."
    He blinked, not sure what she meant. She got into the car. "Your place," she told him. And he drove.
    * * *
    "EVERYTHING HAS TO be just perfect for the children," Reggie said as he knelt beside one of the fake tombstones on his lawn, rigging yet another special effect for the party. "I love to give them a good scare on Halloween."
    "I never would have believed such a true demon lurked under your gentle exterior, Uncle Reggie." Amanda was unrolling strips of artificial turf over the various extension cords that crisscrossed the lawn. She secured them to the soil with small stakes. It wouldn't do to have anyone tripping. She didn't want to see any of the children get hurt.
    "Oh, it's good for them," Reggie insisted. "What child doesn't want to be frightened on Halloween?"
    "Me," she answered.
    He sent her a trademark scowl and made claws of his hands. Then he knelt again. "Is this one all plugged in?"
    "All set, Reg."
    "Ahh, good." He tugged a remote control from his pocket and thumbed a button. The ground in front of the tombstone seemed to crumble and open, and a gnarled hand rose slowly up from the earth. In truth there was a black box there, sitting in a perfectly square hole, with a patch of turf over the top. Slices precut in the turf allowed the hand to claw its way through. "In the dark it's going to look fantastic. Sound effects for this one?"
    "Another scream, perhaps?" Amanda asked. She reached to the portable CD player clipped to a belt at her waist and pressed a button. An ear-splitting shriek filled the air, coming from several speakers spaced around the lawn, all of them hidden.
    "Hmm, maybe not," Reggie mused. "The little ones will probably be shrieking enough all by themselves. Especially the little girls."
    "You always did like us best."
    "Lucky for you, brat."
    She smiled at him and hit another button. "Rattling chains?" she said, as the sound effect played. "Moaning wind?" She played that one. Then added, "Howling wolves?"
    "That's it. The wolves. Children of the night!"
    She rolled her eyes, smiling wider. "I swear, Uncle Reggie, I've never seen you this excited. You're like a kid at Christmas."
    "I'm in my element, dear. In my element." He rubbed his hands together in mock maniacal glee and got to his feet again with effort. "Come, we still have to try out the fog machine before dark."
    * * *
    IT WAS DUSK, and Vince now knew what Holly meant by "alone." They were in a rowboat, bobbing serenely on the far side of the lake. They'd taken turns rowing, and were near the opposite shore. They both wore bright orange life vests. He'd objected, and she'd insisted.
    "I'm a good swimmer," had been his main attempt at arguing.
    "The water's about 45 degrees this time of year. Mark Spitz isn't a good swimmer in that kind of cold. Besides, it's the law. You don't want to go breaking the law, do you?"
    He'd put on the lifejacket. Was still wearing it now, as they floated quietly in the long, narrow lake. A soft but dense gray mist was rising from the water, even as the sky grew darker. "I don't know how the hell we'll find our way back," he muttered. "Did you bring a compass?"
    She let him tease her, even smiled a little in response. "Don't need one."
    "You can tell by the stars where we are? What are you, Davy Crockett?"
    She shook her head. "Don't trust me, O'Mally?"
    He shrugged. "This
is
the longest of the Finger Lakes, isn't it?"
    "Yep, Cayuga's the longest. Over thirty-five miles from the southern tip to the northern."
    "Mm-hmm."
    "There's a light on the end of the dock that'll guide us right back in," she told him.
    "It wasn't on when we left."
    "It comes on at dusk. Watch." She pointed, he presumed back toward the direction from which they'd come, although he was already turned around and disoriented. They watched in silence, and as the darkness grew thicker, the light came on.
    He sighed audibly. "Okay. That's better." He dipped the oars, and rowed them farther into the depths of the lake.
    It was quiet on the water. Soothing somehow. He hadn't seen the lake this calm since he'd come out here. Every time he'd looked out over the water, it had been broken and choppy. Either spiderwebbed like cracked glass, or foaming at the mouth with whitecaps. Now it was deep and dark, a well of secrets.
    "This is as good a spot as any," she said at length. He stopped