Gingerbread Man

earlier.
    "Hell," he muttered, standing there, taking in the scene. It was worse than he'd thought
    Doris sat at the small kitchen table, surrounded by toys, photos, little-girl clothes. She was smiling weakly, but there was a faraway look in her eyes. She glanced up as they entered, met his gaze. "Oh, Vince, it's you. Did you find him yet?"
    Vince sighed, glanced at the Doc.
    "I've got her," he said. "Go find Holly."
    Vince nodded and strode through the house, into the hall, to Holly's room. She wasn't inside, but her bathroom door was open. The bedroom was dark, but the light in the bathroom was on, and it spilled out. Something quaked just a little in Vince's chest.
    He moved closer, tried to make himself hurry, but found his feet unwilling to move. It was as if he was slogging through muck. Closer, he could see bottles of pills on the sides of the sink. Some standing upright, some tipped on their sides. The medicine cabinet was open.
    "Jesus. Holly?"
    He moved still closer, hand on the door, pushing it wider, and he glimpsed the water in the tub. It was full.
    "No." He slammed the door open all the way, and lunged into the bathroom.
    No one was in the tub. The water inside was clear, with a few suds floating on its surface. A damp towel was slung over the side. His entire body uncoiled, but his stomach was still clenched and churning.
    He turned, glancing at the pills. The assortment would have made an addict happy.
    A soft sound reached him, laughter. A child's laughter. He turned, and followed the sound out through the living room. That's when he finally saw Holly. She was outside on the back deck, beyond the glass doors. That little girl from next door was with her, and they had mounds of fabric on the table between them, along with scissors and pincushions and various other implements of stitchery.
    He looked at Holly's face, her eyes. She was clear-eyed, alert. She was okay.
    For just a second, he felt the power of his relief. Much greater than it should have been. He didn't want to spend time trying to probe into why that was—not now.
    She looked up as if she felt his eyes on her, and met them. He saw relief there, too. Some kind of tension just vanished. She was glad to see him. More than glad. She had said she didn't need to be with him. She'd been lying.
    She stood up, and he strode up to her, wrapped her in his arms, and hugged her hard. He didn't even think about it until the awkwardness set in. Then he let go, stepped back.
    She shuffled her feet. "So, what are you doing here?"
    "I didn't like the way you sounded on the phone," he said.
    "Hi, Detective O'Mally!"
    He turned and pasted an "everything's just fine" smile on his face. "Hello, there, Bethany."
    She nodded. "Wait till you see what Holly and I have been doing." As she spoke, she gathered up the mounds of fabric from the table. The girl stuffed the fabric into a shopping bag, from which the very tip of a pointy black hat stuck up.
    "Well, show me!" he said. "I'm dying to see it."
    "No way." She picked the bag up by its twin handles. "This costume is top secret until the party at Mr. D'Voe's, tomorrow night." She tossed her blonde curls dramatically. "You'll just have to wait." Then she grinned, ran to Holly, hugged her waist. "Thank you, Holly. This is the best costume
ever!"
Then she let go. "I can't wait to show Mom." She ran off the back deck, and across the lawns toward her own house. Halfway there she shouted back, "I hope your mom feels better, Holly!"
    "Me, too," Holly whispered, but not loud enough for the child to hear. She watched until the kid was inside her own place, then sighing, turned to the table, and began picking up sewing items and returning them to the basket
    "I brought your aunt and the doc," Vince said. He joined her in picking up. There were countless scraps of fabric to be tossed into a nearby wastebasket. "Thought your mom could use the help."
    "I know, I saw them come in. Thanks. I don't know if it'll help but—"
    "Holly, I looked for you in your room first."
    "I thought I'd sit out here. I had a clear view of Mom, and I couldn't very well take Bethany in there when she came over. Not with Mom in this state." She shrugged. "It's not like I was reaching her anyway. She's withdrawn into herself."
    "Yeah. Listen, I have to ask. What's up with all the pills?"
    She looked up at him, frowned. "God. did I leave them out?"
    "There's a goddamn pharmacy in there."
    She sighed. "I haven't needed chemical help in a long