Gingerbread Man

Graycloud. He weaned me from my meds within the first year. Put me on herbal supplements and teas, and after a while I didn't even need those. Hell, up until just a couple of weeks ago, I hadn't had a symptom. Then all of the sudden they started coming back."
    "When I came to town."
    "No," she said, tipping her head to one side. "No, that's not exactly true. It started before you got here. I don't know what triggered them."
    "That's something to think about. Something must have triggered them, Holly. If we can pinpoint what it was, we might have a clue. Try to think back. What was the first symptom to return?"
    She hesitated for a moment. "I started dreaming about Ivy."
    "And when was the first dream?"
    She shook her head. "I made a note of it in my journal. I can look it up when I get home tonight."
    "Do that," he said. "And while you're at it, see if you can recall anything else unusual that happened within a day or two of that date. Anyone you talked to, saw, even in passing, anything that happened that wasn't a part of your normal daily routine."
    "You really think that's going to help?"
    "I think it's going to help."
    "All right, then. But what about right now?"
    He frowned, a little trill of alarm sounding. Because without realizing it his hands had moved down her arm to her hands. Her hands had turned in his, and were clasping them now, and he didn't like that. "What
about
right now?"
    She lowered her eyes, then raised them again. She looked at him squarely. "You're trying very hard not to let me too close, aren't you?"
    He averted his eyes. "I'm a cop, Holly. We're trained not to get too close."
    "And you already got too close to this entire case, once," she added.
    "I did, yeah."
    She covered his hands with hers. "Do you have any idea how much I need you right now?" she whispered. "How alone I feel in this nightmare?"
    He stared into her eyes. "That's what Sara Prague said. Oh, not in so many words. But it was in her eyes. That same pleading look I see in yours. You want me to promise you that I'll make this right again. Just like I promised her. But I can't get past the memory of having to face that woman—the mother—and tell her my promise was a lie. That I'd found her kids, and that they were dead."
    She nodded slowly, as if she were understanding every word.
    "I don't want you to promise me anything," she whispered finally. "But, could you at least... at least...
"
    "At least...
"
    "Hold me." The words emerged as a bare croak. A plea wrenched from the depths of her hell.
    He knew damn well he was going to kiss her. Bad idea. Very Bad Idea, he told himself. Yet, he leaned forward, sliding off his seat until he knelt in the bottom of the boat, and slid his hands slowly up her arms to her shoulders. Then he tugged her down, until she knelt as well. He leaned closer, saw her tongue dart out to moisten her lips, and her eyes fall closed in expectation.
    He was going to do it. In spite of everything his mind was telling him, he was going to kiss her. He
wanted
to kiss her. Possibly more than he wanted to take another breath.
    A low rumble in the distance distracted him. By the time he let it interfere with his intent, his lips were already brushing hers, just barely. He felt her breath on his mouth and he tasted the merest sample of her, when the rumble became more insistent. He popped his eyes open, his hands still on her shoulders, his mouth almost touching hers. Her eyes opened, too, in response to the sound, which rumbled again, louder this time.
    Sighing, she leaned into his arms as he closed them around her, held her, just as she'd asked him to. And he whispered, "Is that thunder?"
    "Yeah," she murmured. "And not a moment too soon, hmm?"
    "It's just as well." He stroked her hair, set her upright. "It's not a good idea, you and me, Red."
    She refused to meet his eyes. "We ought to start back, before we get rained on."
    He took a look around as he reached for the oars. "I, um ... I'm probably just distracted here, but I don't see our guiding light."
    Holly lifted her head, saw that he wasn't kidding, and looked around herself. Only darkness surrounded them. Darkness, and water. Clouds were rapidly obliterating the stars overhead, so that even they winked out. "The light's gone out," she said.
    Then she met his eyes, held them in the darkness. "Or someone put it out."
    The thunder rolled from the sky over the water. To Vince it sounded like demonic laughter.

ELEVEN
----

    THE STORM ROLLED closer. The