Gingerbread Man

don't know, you don't know. You think you have power, here, but you don't. He does. He has all the power."
    "Who does?" Vince asked.
    Reggie's shoulders slumped. "If I knew that I'd kill him myself. I swear to God I would."
    Jerry came in, carrying a fax that had just come through the machine in the chief's office. Mallory scanned it, paused for a long moment before handing it to Vince.
    Vince read it and, frowning, lifted his gaze. "Reggie, is it true you were an only child?"
    Reginald narrowed his eyes on Vince, but said nothing. Vince continued, "According to this, there's no physical way you could have a niece."
    Reggie only shrugged stiffly. " 'Uncle' is more an honorary title in this case. Amanda's parents died, and left her in my care."
    "Can you prove that?"
    Reg straightened his spine, glaring at them. "You can't take her from me. Not now."
    "She's an adult now, Reg. No one can make her do anything she doesn't want to," Mallory said. "But we're going to have to know where she came from. I mean, if she's not a blood relative, then her name must not have been D'Voe, unless you had it legally changed."
    "Maybe we should just ask Amanda," Vince suggested softly.
    Reg came out of the chair as if launched, and, in the blink of an eye, he grabbed Vince by the front of his shirt, and pressed him up against the cell wall. "Don't! You mustn't bring this up with her! You can't!"
    The chief swore and gripped Reggie by the shoulders. Jerry had started forward toward them, one hand on his sidearm. Vince held up a hand to still them, but before he could say anything the old man released him suddenly and staggered backward, clutching his chest as the color drained completely from his face. He hit the floor even as Vince lunged for him.
    "Jesus! Call an ambulance—and get hold of Graycloud!" Vince shouted.
    "He's already here. Just pulled up out front," Jerry said.
    "Uncle Reggie?" Amanda came running, and in a moment she was on the floor beside the old man, bent over him, crying her heart out.
    Holly tugged her gently away when Dr. Graycloud burst through the doors. She turned into Holly's arms, sobbing. "He's all I have," she moaned. "Oh, God, please don't let him die."
    * * *
    BETHANY HUDDLED IN the darkness, hugging her arms as she shook. At first she'd thought it was just a game. Just a part of Mr. D'Voe's Halloween party tricks. The large arms had snapped around her from out of the darkness, and pulled her through the fence and into the woods. She screamed. But then, everyone was shrieking with every ghost or ghoul that popped up on the parade around the lawn. Who would notice one more scream? Something smelly and damp was pressed to her face. It burned. She thought there had been some kind of hole in the ground but then everything went dark. She knew it was the smelly stuff on the cloth at her face that made her go to sleep.
    Until now. She woke up in darkness so complete she couldn't see a thing. She could feel only the wall at her back and the floor beneath her. Metallic, and cold. When she moved, something jangled and tugged tight. She reached down and felt cold metal clasped tight around her ankle, and a heavy chain attached. She closed her hands around that chain, yanked on it with all her might, but it didn't give. It was attached to something. If there had ever been a hole in the ground, she wasn't in it now. This area felt large. As big as a room, but not a room, somehow.
    Oh, gosh. She didn't know where she was, or who had brought her here. But she knew this was bad. This was very bad. She was in serious trouble. Hot tears ran down Bethany's face. She pounded on the wall, shouted for her mother, but she had a feeling no one could hear her. Her voice bounced off the walls of the big dark room. No one answered. Nothing moved.
    She sank to the floor, sobbing softly. She thought about how she had missed trick-or-treating this year. She thought about how worried her mom must be. And Daddy was out of town. Mommy would probably call him, though. He would rush home, and then he would come and find her.
    She hoped he would hurry.
    * * *
    IT WASN'T A large hospital, it was the size of a small Holiday Inn, only four floors, and a total of three treatment rooms in the E.R. They wheeled Reginald D'Voe through the hall, a comet's tail of onlookers trailing right behind. The gurney slid through the doors of a treatment room. Doc Graycloud passed through, as well. Then one nurse, who appeared to have drawn crowd-control