Gingerbread Man

help we can get on this."
    He knew that, but he was worried. He didn't want his partner getting hurt, and this thing was looking risky. At least he'd have more help protecting Holly—he needed that, because he didn't want her getting hurt, either.
    She sighed, glanced at her watch, at the movie, which she'd paused for the phone call. "It's getting late. I should probably—"
    "Don't say it," he said, glancing her way.
    "Don't say what?"
    "You're staying here. Or I can go to your place, it's up to you. But if you think you're staying alone tonight, you're dead wrong."
    She held his gaze for a long stretch—he sensed she was thinking about arguing, but knowing better. Hell, she didn't want to be alone with a killer on the loose any more than he wanted her to be. And she knew that he knew it.
    "My place," she said. "All my stuff's there." Not just her stuff, but her routine. She needed it, and now wasn't the time to try to shake the habit.
    "Okay," he agreed. "Your place."
    "You can have Mom's room. I mean, if you're sure you don't want mine." Her eyes were intense, and he got her meaning clearly.
    "I'll take the couch. It's a better spot." She cocked her head.
    "Better spot for what?"
    "It's right between the front and back doors. I'll hear anyone who comes around." Her face went just a hint paler.
    "You really think—?"
    "I don't know what to think at this point. Might as well be ready for anything, though, right?"
    "I... guess."
    "Don't worry, Red. I'm good at this shit. It's what I do, remember?" She nodded, but the fear still lingered in her eyes. He didn't like seeing it there. He preferred the flicker of heat he'd seen before, if the truth were known.
    * * *
    IT WASN'T THE same in the house with her mother away. Holly phoned the hospital again when she and Vince arrived at the house. She couldn't talk to her, though. Jim Mallory came on the line instead, saying not to worry. Her mom was sleeping soundly and he wasn't planning to leave her anytime soon.
    It was only slightly reassuring. She hung up the phone, and felt her shoulders slump a little as she sighed. "Anything wrong, Holly? Your mother?"
    "She's fine. Sleeping. But it ought to be me there by her bedside."
    "Oh, I don't know. I kind of think she'd like the idea of Jim hanging so close by."
    "I'm her daughter. It's my place."
    "Maybe Jim would like it to be his place, too."
    Holly tensed. "You think they're that serious?"
    "You didn't see Jim's face when you and I told your mother Welles wasn't the real killer. You were totally focused on Doris. I'll tell you, Mallory looked sick with worry and fighting mad at the thought of her having to go through it all over again." Vince shook his head. "A man doesn't look like that if he doesn't care. He was all pale, kind of pinched around the eyes, and his jaw was clenched so tight I thought it would break. He cares. More than cares. You know?"
    "You think he's in love with her?"
    Vince nodded.
    "Is it hard for you to say that, Vince? That he loves her?"
    "No harder than anything else. Why?"
    She shrugged. "You kind of danced around the words there."
    "Did I?" He wasn't looking her in the eye now.
    Sighing, Holly changed the subject. "Think we're safe here tonight?"
    "I'm here. I'm armed. We're as safe as we can reasonably be."
    "You're supposed to say we're perfectly safe. Tell me nothing's going to happen. What kind of hero are you, anyway?"
    "No kind at all."
    She rubbed her arms, glanced toward the door, the windows, beyond which she only saw black.
    "Go to bed, Holly. Trust me, I'll be here and you'll be safe. I promise. Okay?"
    Sending him a shaky excuse for a smile, she said, "That's better." And turning, she went to her room. She didn't stay though. She hit the closet for extra blankets, took a pillow off her own bed, and carried them into the living room for him. He'd already started a pot of coffee brewing, and was standing between the sofa and the television, thumbing the remote, flipping through channels.
    She dropped the pile of soft fluff onto the sofa. "So you're planning to stay up all night?"
    "At least."
    "You don't have to do that, Vince."
    He tossed the remote onto the coffee table and turned to face her. "No?"
    She shook her head.
    "So, suppose I fall asleep out here? What's to stop someone from sneaking past me?"
    She swallowed the words that tried to leap out, then said them anyway. "Come to bed with me."
    He felt as if she had zapped him with a stun gun. His face flushed, and a muscle