Gingerbread Man

the southern shore, to the hulking shape of Reginald D'Voe's Gothic mansion on the far side. "Look, Beth. The leaves have fallen enough so you can see Reggie's house from here."
    "Creepy!" Bethany remarked, with a smile that said she loved it.
    The house hunched above the town on a small hill, separated from it by a thick stand of woods, and the narrowest part of the lake. That mansion had always reminded Holly of an aging vulture.
    "Have you ever been inside?" Bethany asked.
    "No. Have you?"
    "No, but they say old Reggie is going to have a Halloween party this year. Every kid in town is invited. I might go."
    Holly glanced down at the girl with her brows raised. "A party? Really? I thought Reggie was a recluse." Bethany wrinkled her nose and tilted her head to one side. "You know, a hermit?"
    "Oh." Bethany shrugged. "I don't know. Mom says he used to have a Halloween party every year, way back in the old days."
    Holly nodded. Reginald D'Voe, the town's favorite claim to fame, had moved away for several years, but just the year before last he'd come back, taking up residence once again. As little as anyone saw of him. Holly figured most of the locals never even knew he'd been gone.
    "Have you ever seen any of his movies?" Bethany asked.
    "Hasn't everyone?"
    Bethany giggled. "He comes to school sometimes. He is a great story reader."
    "Is he?"
    "The best!" Bethany exclaimed with an enthusiastic nod.
    "So you haven't decided if you're going to his party?"
    "I don't know. Everyone who goes has to wear a costume, and I don't have a costume for Halloween yet." She shrugged. "Still, Mom says it will be the biggest party of the whole year."
    They came to the intersection where Bethany had to turn off to go to the school. Last year, Holly had walked the girl every step of the way. Now, Bethany insisted on traveling that last block alone. And in deference to her pride, Holly had to let her, though it almost killed her to release the girl's hand every time.
    Bethany waved. "Bye, Holly!"
    "Bye, hon. Have a good day. Be careful."
    Grinning, Bethany skipped off, blonde hair flying behind her. She joined several other kids heading for the school at the far end of the block. Holly didn't start walking. Instead she stood near the corner and watched them all the way to the school building. And she kept watching, until they got safely through the front doors.
    Only then did she continue on her way to work.
    She had to walk through the tourist section of town to get to the police station at the other end, but she didn't mind. She loved walking the tourist strip this time of year, when it was all but deserted, other than a few shopkeepers just unlocking their front doors, or sweeping colorful fallen leaves off their section of sidewalk. The trees were nearly bare now. Skeletal.
    The strip ended suddenly at the intersection of Main and Fairfax. Here was the barber shop, the small grocery store-slash-gas station, the library, Mr. Lee's Ice Cream Emporium, which was closed now that the tourist season had ended. It closed at the same time every year.
    She liked that about this town. Its predictability. Its regularity. She thrived on calm, order, and a good solid routine. Serene waters were the kind she needed in her life, she mused, glancing toward the ever-present lake. She didn't do well in stormy seas.
    She was so intent on looking at the lake that had become a fixture in her life that she didn't see the man standing outside the police station until she heard his impatient thumping on the door, and his deep voice, saying, "What the hell is the
matter
with this town, anyway?"
    Great. A stumbling block in the path of her daily routine. She
hated
when that happened. Scowling, she picked up the pace, walking right up behind the man. He was bending over, hands cupped on either side of his eyes as he peered through the glass, trying to see between the lettering of the words Dilmun Police Department.
    "Actually, there's
nothing
the matter with this town," she said, coming to a stop behind him. "Not to those of us who live here, anyway."
    He straightened, not turning around. "And to those who don't?" he asked, meeting her gaze reflected in the window. She couldn't make out much of his face. The glass was tinted. Her impressions were three. Big. Dark. And moody.
    "Those who don't," she said, "are free to leave if they don't like it here."
    He finally turned and faced her. Holly shivered as a cloud passed over the sun, and its shadow slid over