Gingerbread Man

had been that same golden color when she was a baby, her mother had often told her. That color didn't last. It faded, like innocence. Like Ivy. Photos were everywhere, framed, unframed, hanging, standing, propped up. And clothes. Little-girl dresses, hung from the backs of chairs. Hair ribbons dangled atop them. On the table, Ivy's favorite doll lay looking forlorn and abandoned. Its hair had been cut off, so only little nubs stuck out the holes in the top of its head. One eye was stuck open. It wore no clothes. A tea set was beside the doll. A puzzle. Some coloring books, open, with sloppily colored pages and Ivy's name scrawled in kindergarten penmanship across the tops.
    She could almost hear her baby sister's laughter. She could almost see her standing there, defiantly, the baby doll in one hand, the scissors in the other, blonde locks on the floor around her chubby bare feet. She could almost hear her little voice. "Real babies don't have hair!"
    "Oh, God, Mom..."
    "I was just... remembering. We don't do that enough."
    Holly swallowed hard. "We stopped doing that. We decided it was too painful. That's why we packed all this stuff away."
    "That was before."
    Holly shuddered. Jesus, she couldn't take this. Not without help. She turned back to the hallway, having made up her mind. A Valium. Maybe something stronger. Anything, just to dull reality.
    "She's not at rest. She'll never be at rest until her killer pays, Holly, and if Ivy isn't at peace, we can't be either. We can't forget her. We can't pack her things away. We can't—"
    Holly took a single step into the hallway, toward her room, her pills, her crutch, and the phone rang. It froze her in her tracks. Doris grabbed it up before it could ring again, and immediately said, "Hello? Jim, is it you? Have you caught the man yet?"
    "Mom, hon, it's okay," Holly said, turning around, going back.
    "Vince?" Doris said, then she shot Holly a look. "It's Vince, dear. Vince, have you caught the man yet? Have you?"
    "Mom, please …"
    Holly had her hand out. Her mother listened to whatever Vince said, then blinking back tears, handed the phone to Holly. "He hasn't arrested anyone yet. But he will. It won't be long now. Your Vince is a good man, I can see that."
    She kept on walking, right past Holly, back to the table where she picked up the doll, and held it to her chest.
    "Vince?"
    "Jesus, Holly, what the hell is going on there?"
    "Nothing. Mom's ... I'll just give her another Valium. She'll be all right. What happened?"
    "Nothing. Research. I just wanted to check on you."
    "We're fine."
    "You don't sound fine. Maybe you should've come with me after all."
    "No." She glanced at her mother, going through yet another box of her sister's things. "She shouldn't be alone right now."
    He was silent for a moment. Then, "Is Bill still outside?"
    Holly glanced toward the window. "Yes. We're fine. Safe and fine. Do your job, Vince. The faster we end this, the better."
    There was a pause. "Are you sure you're all right?"
    "Yes."
    "Okay. Okay. I'll talk to you later."
    * * *
    VlNCE HUNG UP the phone and tried to shake the feeling that something wasn't right, but he couldn't seem to get rid of it. Holly had sounded strange. He didn't like it.
    Goddamn it, what if he'd been wrong in thinking she could get through this? What if she couldn't? She'd been alone for hours with her mother, who'd sounded completely spaced out on the phone.
    Hell. He had to get over there and find out for himself. Right or wrong, he had to.
    Vince put in a call to Marty Cantrell, Holly's uncle. But it was his wife, Jen, who answered the phone. He'd met her, briefly, at the bonfire. "I'm sorry, Vince. Marty's working today."
    "Oh. I didn't realize he had an outside job."
    "It's not much. Not even full time anymore. But when they need him, he still makes deliveries for Strofman's Bakery. They had several orders to go out today, and one of their regulars called in sick, so..."
    "That's all right. Really. Maybe you can help."
    "Well, sure, if I can. What is it? Is Holly all right?"
    "Yeah, but I'm not sure about your sister. Doris isn't doing too well. I think she could use your help."
    The woman listened as he told her the very essentials. A half hour later, he was pulling up to Holly's place. Jen Cantrell and Ernie Graycloud arrived immediately behind him. He thanked them for coming and went to the house. He knocked once, then walked in when there was no answer, using the key Holly had given him