Gingerbread Man

you came to live with him, and he became extremely agitated."
    Amanda lowered her head. "He's very protective of me. And he was already upset over..." She closed her eyes. "Poor little Bethany."
    "Yes, I know." Vince got to his feet, took a seat on the edge of the bench nearest her. He thought before he spoke. He was half afraid to talk to her at all and risk bringing on another episode. But, hell, it was his job. "Maybe you can help me, Amanda. Answer the questions that your uncle didn't."
    Slowly, she looked at him. "I can't."
    "Why not?"
    "Vince, don't," Holly urged. "Please, she's been through enough. And how relevant can something like that be, anyway?"
    Vince met Holly's eyes. "I'm afraid it might be very relevant." Then, turning to Amanda, he tried to speak as gently as he could. "Now isn't the best time, Amanda, I realize that. But sooner or later, you're going to have to tell someone about your past."
    She only shook her head from side to side. "It's impossible."
    Vince's brows pulled tight, and he started to ask why, but a tap on the door interrupted, and he got to his feet again. When he opened the door, Chief Mallory was standing on the other side, and he jerked his head toward the waiting room. Vince looked that way, saw the new arrivals. Dark suits, stiff jaws, shined shoes. Feds. He glanced back at Holly. "You two stay here, okay? I’ll be back."
    Holly nodded, and he took just a second to notice how together she seemed. A far cry from the mess she'd been a few hours ago. He held her eyes for a moment. "You're doing great, you know."
    "That's what you think," she told him with a ghost of a smile.
    He left her there, headed back out to the waiting area.
    A tall, dour-faced man with steel gray hair and eyes to match watched him all the way in. "Well, Detective Vince O'Mally," he said. "Been a long time."
    "Not long enough, Selkirk. How are you?"
    "I’m considering whether to let you keep you badge or have you brought up on charges of impeding a federal investigation, to be blunt." He walked back out through the entrance doors. They opened automatically with a whoosh of Halloween night air so cold it was like the breath of the Reaper.
    Vince followed. He could see his breath in the tall goosenecked streetlights that lined the parking lot. Beyond their reach, the night was a black abyss. Sighing, he turned toward the special agent. "So...
"
    "So what?"
    "So if you think you have the grounds and the balls to go after my badge, be my guest."
    Selkirk jammed his hands into his pockets. Hunched a little against the cold. "If you think I don't, keep on pushing, Detective."
    "Right. So you wanna tell me what your problem is, Selkirk? That I stepped on a few toes and bent a few regs, or that I got to the bottom of this case before you did?"
    "I don't give a rat's ass who solves this case, so long as it gets solved."
    "No?" Vince blew a sigh. "Then why are you breathing fire at me, Selkirk? I followed a hunch and came down here on my own time. The hunch panned out and we're closer than ever to catching this asshole. End of story."
    "Not quite the end. You forgot the part where another kid gets snatched
before
we catch this asshole."
    Vince stiffened because the guy hit him in his raw spot. "Are you implying that's my fault? The perp lives here, for crying out loud."
    "If he does, he's never hunted in his hometown before, O'Mally. He was pressured into it—your presence pushed him too far."
    "And you're what, reading his mind now? You ever think maybe it was something else that pushed him? Like us finding the Prague kids' bodies before he dumped them—when we've never recovered the bodies of this guy's victims before? Maybe that was what threw him. You ever think of that, Selkirk?"
    Selkirk hesitated, rather than shooting right back. Vince frowned, looked at him, wondering why.
    "Actually, we have," he said at length.
    That bought Vince up short. "Have what?"
    "Found the bodies before. Two in Pennsylvania, one in Jersey, another in Massachusetts."
    Vince backed off a step. Lowered his head. His righteous indignation drained slowly. "All identified?"
    "Yeah."
    "And how do you know they were all his?"
    "All female blue-eyed blondes, small for their age, five to seven years old. All the bodies were moved after death. All sexually assaulted. Same M.O. He keeps them for anywhere from a few days to a couple of weeks, before he kills them. Keeps the bodies around awhile before he hides them. Almost like he's daring us