Gingerbread Man

So what's your problem, son?"
    Vince shot the man an impatient glare.
    "You're afraid she's gonna fuck
you
up, is what it is. You don't want to risk it. You're scared to death of that woman."
    "You don't know a thing about it, Chief."
    The chief shrugged, unoffended. "Listen. Let me call your boss for you, huh?"
    Vince shook his head. "It's my mess. I'll clean it up. But expect a call later on. He's gonna want to get your end of this, and more than likely there will be Feds crawling all over town by this time tomorrow. Be ready."
    "Will do." He pulled into the curving drive and stopped. Vince got out of the car, held the door open and leaned down. "You're gonna keep a man on Holly's place today?"
    "Only when I can't be there myself."
    "Good."
    "You know, you can set up in the office, if you want," the chief said before Vince could close the door. "Work from there, if you think it'll help."
    "By tomorrow, they'll probably have commandeered any space you have for a base of operations. No, I'll be okay right here."
    "All right. Call if you need anything."
    "Actually—"
    "Yeah?"
    Vince sighed. "Chief, how well do you know Reginald D'Voe?"
    The chief's eyes clouded over. "He's got nothing to do with any of this."
    "How can you be so sure?"
    "You gotta trust me on this, son. Reggie has secrets, sure. But digging around in his past will only dredge up unnecessary pain for innocent folks. He's a good man."
    "Okay. If you say so," Vince said, because it was clearly the only thing to say. He didn't believe it though. D'Voe had warned him off. And now the chief seemed to be doing the same. The old actor had something to hide, and Vince had a sick feeling in his belly that maybe he was starting to get an inkling of what it was.
    * * *
    DORIS HAD FALLEN into a heavy sleep within a few minutes, so Holly had slipped quietly out of the bed, run herself a long, steaming bath, and spent a good hour soaking in it. It eased her aching muscles. God, last night had beaten her up pretty good. She had bruises on her that she'd been unaware of. On her rib cage, her side, high on her thigh. Her head still ached, but it was a dull ache. Most of her distress was emotional, not physical. And the hot bath wasn't much help for that.
    She lay back in the water, looked up, saw the medicine cabinet, still open wide, and the row of little brown plastic bottles on the shelf inside. They would help. She could pop a few pills and put herself on level ground again.
    She'd been off her meds for a while now. A long while, and she'd been proud of it. It meant she could survive without them. But maybe she wasn't as free of them as she'd thought. After all, she'd needed to keep them nearby. Dr. Graycloud disapproved, of course, nagged her about it constantly. He'd even told her mother to keep track of the contents of the little brown bottles so he would know if she started using any of them again. But she hadn't. They were a crutch she kept around in case she needed one. She was still terrified of being without the wide array of pills.
    And, now, now maybe it was a good thing they were here. Old friends. Maybe she would need them before this was all over.
    There was a noise in the hall. Movement. Fear jumped in her heart, and she got up fast, water sluicing down her body. Was someone out there? How long had they been in the house? God, she'd stayed too long in the tub. Her mother was alone, across the hall. She reached blindly, found a big towel, pulled it to her and stepped onto the floor, dripping, leaving little puddles. Rivulets ran from her hair down her back as she anchored the towel around her. She ignored the trickling water and stepped slowly out of the bathroom, into her bedroom, toward the door. Someone was moving around out there in the hallway, or maybe the kitchen.
    She needed a weapon. Didn't have one. She had locked the doors after Vince and the chief left. Bill was still outside, wasn't he?
    Softly, she went to the bedroom door, gripped the knob, turned it slowly, pulled just a little.
    In the hall, her mother strode past with a big box in her arms.
    "Mom?" Holly flung the door wider, then followed her mother down the hall. "What are you doing up?"
    "I couldn't sleep. But, Holly, look. Look what I found."
    She emerged into the small kitchen and set the box on a chair. It was the only free spot. Holly stopped cold, and looked around her. Ivy was everywhere. Photos of her smiling, those dimples, the blue eyes. Soft blonde hair. Holly's own hair