Gingerbread Man

by Maggie Shayne

  Amanda nodded, and Sally stuck a needle into her arm. As the crimson liquid rushed into the glass tube, she untied the rubber band. When the tube was full, she drew the needle out, holding a gauze pad to the puncture wound, and adding a bandage. "There. All done. Told you it would only take a minute." Smiling she labeled the tube and dropped it into the tray, then turned as if to go.

  "Well, wait a minute," Holly said. "What about me?"

  Sally turned, looking puzzled.

  "You said the donor doesn't need to be a blood relative. So, why don't you take a sample from me, as well? I'd be glad to give blood if Reggie needs it."

  Amanda sent Holly a grateful look. The nurse blinked, but finally shrugged and came forward, repeated the entire procedure on Holly. As the blood surged into the tube, Holly asked, "How much longer, do you think, before we'll know something about Reggie's condition?"

  "It's liable to be a while, hon." Sally must have heard Amanda's sigh as she withdrew her needle and applied a bandage to Holly. She looked up, met Amanda's eyes. "Let me just tell you this much, child. It's looking good in the E.R. Now they won't call him stable yet, but I'd say it's close to that."

  Amanda's relief was palpable. Holly felt it, along with a sizable measure of her own. “My mother is on the third floor," Holly said. "We're going up to look in on her. Please make sure to come for us the second there's any news."

  "I promise," the nurse said. "The second there's any news."

  When Sally left them, they headed to the elevators. No one else was aboard. They rode two floors up, and the doors opened again.

  It was quieter there. A hushed hallway, lights all dimmed. Just a few nurses padding softly up and down the halls with their rubber-soled shoes and white pant-suits. Holly wondered if they wore white because it made them look like angels. So much more soothing to a frightened patient than looking up into the face of a woman dressed in scarlet or purple, she imagined.

  "That's my mom's room." She pointed down the hall to the door marked 317. "She's probably sleeping at this hour. But... Well, we can just peek in at her."

  Amanda nodded, and the two walked softly to the door. Heads close, they looked through the mesh-lined glass. Holly expected to see her mother lying still on the pillow, looking peaceful as she slept.

  It wasn't what she saw. There was a woman curled in the fetal position in the bed. It was not her mother. Her mother was sitting up in the bed, cradling the other woman, stroking her hair as if she were holding a small frightened child.

  Doris looked up and saw Holly in the window. She crooked a finger at her to come in, but added a warning to be quiet by putting that same finger to her lips.

  Nodding, Holly pushed the door open, stepped inside, tugging Amanda along beside her. Holly moved close to the bed, leaned down, and kissed her mother's cheek. Then she touched it. "You've been crying," she said in a whisper.

  Doris's cheeks were tear-stained, eyes red. "Not as much as she has," she said, nodding at the woman who slept in her arms. "God, it's as if she's me, eighteen years ago. I remember this. I remember everything she's feeling. It's like I've gone back in time as an onlooker, as if I'm seeing my own history replay."

  Holly looked down. Amanda did, too. Amanda said, "It's Bethany's mother."

  "Yes. They gave her something, but she just kept crying. I could hear her in the room next door." She shook her head slowly, stroking, stroking. "They couldn't help her. I'm the only one who can help her. Because I know. Because she's me."

  The woman was definitely out cold now. She hadn't even stirred. "Mom, you shouldn't be putting yourself through this." Holly leaned forward, reaching for the call button.

  Her mother's hand closed over hers. "No, Holly. She's staying right here. She needs me. And I need her."

  Holly frowned, not liking this.

  "She's right," Amanda said. "I feel more in control when I'm helping someone else. I was losing ground fast until Uncle Reggie... and you know it's the same for you, Holly. You were falling apart until you noticed that I was in worse shape that you were."

  "That's it exactly," Doris said, smiling gently up at Amanda. "Helping Val through this night is my way of helping myself through it, as well." Then she frowned, searching Holly's face. "Is there any sign... ?"

  "No. Not yet"

  Doris's gaze shifted to Amanda. "Your uncle must be beside himself."

  Amanda lowered her head. "He had a heart attack while the police were questioning him about what happened. He's down in the E.R. right now."

  Doris's brows rose, her lips parted on a soft "Oh," and she opened her arms. Amanda leaned over the bed, accepted the hug, returned it. Doris said, "I know it doesn't seem like it now, child, but you're going to be all right. You will."

  "Sometimes I have trouble believing that," Amanda whispered.

  Holly looked on, until a tapping sound on the door behind her made her turn.

  Vince peered in through the glass. His face was expressionless. Holly opened the door. "What is it?" Beside him a grim-faced man in a dark suit and tan coat stood like a soldier awaiting orders.

  "We need to see Amanda for a sec," Vince said softly. "Can you have her come out?"

  "Is it Reggie?"

  Vince shook his head immediately. "No, we haven't heard a thing about Reg yet. It's something else."

  Holly frowned at him, but he just sent her an appeal with his eyes. Please. "Okay. Wait here." She ducked back inside. "Amanda, we have to go. No word on Reggie yet, but we're being summoned anyway."

  Amanda straightened away from the bed, and Holly hurried forward, hugged her mother. "Are you all right, Mom?"

  "Yes. Yes, I am. I'm sorry I fell apart the way I did, honey. I didn't mean to do that to you. How about you, how are you doing through all of this?"

  "Better than I expected I'd be by now. I'm surprising myself."

  "Not me," Doris said. "Be strong, honey. I need you."

  "I know. Don't worry." She glanced at the bed, the other woman in it. “Try to get some rest tonight."

  "I will."

  Holly backed out of the room, blew her mother a kiss, and let the door fall closed as she turned to face the two men. Amanda was already standing beside her, facing them expectantly. "So, what's this about?"

  "Is there a place where we can have some privacy?" the stranger asked.

  "I'm sorry," Holly said, and if her tone had an edge to it, it was because she disliked the man, instantly and instinctively. Something about his brisk tone, his cold eyes, made her bristle. "Do I know you?"

  "This is Special Agent Frank Selkirk with the FBI, Holly," Vince said quickly. To Selkirk, he said, "Holly Newman, and Amanda D'Voe."

  He acknowledged the women with the barest nod. "Privacy?"

  Holly glanced at the empty room beside her mother's. "In here," she said, leading the way, opening the door. "It was Val Stevens's room, but she's in with my mother and I don't think she'll be back anytime soon." She held the door wide while Vince led Amanda in, and Selkirk followed. Stepping in herself, Holly let it close again. "Okay, so what's the big secret?"

  "Miss D'Voe," Selkirk began, ignoring Holly completely. "Do you have an unusual scar in the middle of your back?"

  Amanda blinked. She swung her gaze to Holly, then to Vince.

  "Right about..."—Selkirk poked her between the shoulder blades with a long finger—"there?"

  "How could you know ... what is this about?"

  “I’m going to have to ask you to show me that scar, ma'am."

  "Show you... No. This is inappropriate. Don't you need a warrant or something to—?"

  "Amanda, it's all right. I..." Vince seemed to struggle for words. "It's relevant to the case, believe me. I wouldn't ask you to do this if it wasn't."

  Amanda blinked, her face softening. Holly tugged her arm, pulling Amanda back a step, then moved forward, putting herself between her and Selkirk. She thrust her chin at Vince. "How is it relevant?"

  "Holly, I can't—"

  "How
is it relevant, Vince?"

  "It's all right," Amanda said softly. “If it could help find Bethany, I don't mind all that much." Turning her back to them all, she pulled her sweater upward, baring first her slender waist, then the long curve of her spine. Arms crossed over her head, she lifted it higher. The sweater rose past the strap of the white bra across her back. Higher, just above the strap, in the center of Amanda's back was a scar. The scar was old, faded, but there. Holly squinted, leaning closer.

  "It looks like a shamrock."

  “Four-leaf clover," Selkirk murmured. "I'll be damned."

  Amanda lowered the shirt, turning slowly. "I've had it for as long as I can remember. What does it mean? What does it have to do with what's happened to Bethany?"

  Her blue eyes were wide, and she was showing signs of panic again. Holly grabbed Vince's arm. "Dammit, don't put her through this shit. Tell us what's going on."

  Vince sighed. "Maybe nothing—"

  " 'Maybe nothing' my ass," Selkirk said. "Every one of this child killer's victims—the ones we've found at least—had that same mark on her back, Miss D'Voe. Which tells me you were one of this man's victims, too. Maybe his first one. Maybe before he'd started killing them after he'd finished—"

  "Shut the fuck up, Selkirk," Vince snapped. He turned, reached for Amanda.

  She was backing away, shaking her head from side to side. "But—but I would remember. I would know ..."

  "It's all right. We can't be sure what this means," Vince was saying, but there was no recalling Selkirk's words.

  "Of course you are!" Amanda shouted. She spun, right into Holly's arms, and clung there, shaking. "It means I could save Bethany ... if I could only remember. Dammit, Holly, why can't I remember?"

  Holly held her, stroked her soft brown hair down her back, and sent a fierce scowl at Vince.

  "You don't remember?" Vince asked urgently. "Amanda, are you saying you don't remember anything about your life before you went to live with Reggie?"

  She shook her head against Holly's shoulder. "Nothing," she said. "Except pain."

  "I'm getting an arrest warrant," Selkirk said, turning for the door. "If that old bastard survives, he's going down."

  Amanda broke free of Holly, and stared after him. "Are you talking about Reggie? You think Reggie did this? My God, you do! Reggie would never—you can't believe ... No. No, no, no—" She dragged in a ragged breath, followed by another, clutched her chest, bent at the waist.

  Holly held her firmly and ordered, "Go out to the nurse's desk and have them get the doctor back up here. Now." Amanda was starting to hyperventilate again. Holly soothed her as best she could, while Vince gripped Selkirk's upper arm and propelled him bodily out of the room.

  The minute the door closed on them, Amanda stopped panting. She straightened her back and met Holly's eyes; hers were clear. It was so sudden a change that Holly blinked and shook herself. "Amanda? I don't understand, what—?"

  "It wasn't Reggie." She said it calmly, her voice deeper than Holly had ever heard it, soft and quiet, but perfectly firm.

  "I believe you."

  "I have to remember. I have to. It's the only way."

  "What do you remember? Maybe if we start with that...."

  Amanda glanced toward the door as footsteps approached. "Not now," she said quickly. "Just... tell me you'll help me. You will, won't you?"

  "Amanda, whoever put that mark on you murdered my baby sister. I'll do whatever you want."

  Amanda nodded. The door burst open, and she bent over again, sank onto the edge of the bed, resumed gasping for breath.

  Dr. Graycloud crowded into the room, flanked by Vince and Selkirk. He took hold of Amanda's shoulders, and eased her down onto the pillows. He held a paper bag to her mouth.

  Amanda looked past him, her eyes on Holly's, then rolling toward the men. Holly gave a nearly imperceptible nod, and turned to Vince. "You two get out of here, will you? You've upset her enough."

  Vince met her eyes. He looked puzzled and a little hurt before he controlled his expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

  "You're doing your job," Holly said, and her tone was gentler with him. "But I know what she's going through. You know I do. Don't second-guess me on this. She needs some space. Please, can you take your FBI friend out of here? Just for a little while?"

  Vince nodded, holding her eyes with his. He saw something. She knew he did, it showed in that slight narrowing of his eyes and the way they dug and probed. He curled his hand around the nape of her neck, leaned in close. "Are you okay?" He asked it quietly, for her ears alone.

  She nodded firmly.

  "You sure?" He looked as if he doubted it.

  "I promise. I'm okay."

  Vince moved closer, kissed her on the mouth, lingering there. "We need to talk."

  "Later, Vince."

  Finally, he let her go. Then he turned. "Come on, Selkirk, we're outta here."

  "I need to question her," the agent protested.

  "She just told you, she doesn't remember anything. It'll do you no good, and maybe do her some harm if you push her too hard right now."

  "I'm going to sedate her anyway," Dr. Graycloud told them. "You can ask your questions in the morning." He straightened away from Amanda, who was breathing slowly now into the bag, and he turned to Selkirk. "I'm in charge here. This girl's been through enough tonight. Come back in the morning. That's final."

  Scowling fiercely and looking mean, Selkirk warned, "I can get the authority to question her now. If you force me to, I will."

  "Go get it then. By the time you come back she'll be out for the night. I promise you, you will not be questioning this girl before morning."

  Sighing, the agent glared at the doctor, then finally turned and stomped out of the room. Some of the tension left with him.

  "You should know that Reggie is past the crisis. Amanda," Dr. Graycloud said. His voice was gentle now. "He's stable. He'll be here for several days, but he's stable."

  She started to sit up, but he put his hands on her shoulders. "You can't see him before morning. He'll be unconscious until then. But he's going to be all right, child. I promise you that." He took the crushed paper bag from her hand, set it aside as he went on, giving her more gentle, encouraging news about her uncle's condition.

  Holly didn't catch all of it, because Vince was tugging her into the hall. He glanced around, she guessed for Selkirk, but he was gone. Then Vince stared hard at her, started to say something, stopped again, and finally just pulled her close, and held her against him. Her head on his chest Holly hesitantly lifted her arms, settled them around his waist.

  "You're so tense you feel like you might snap in two." He ran a palm across the small of her back. His touch was warm. Firm. "How are you holding up—and tell me the truth this time, Holly, I mean it."

  "Fine."

  Frowning, he stepped back slightly, looking down at her. "That's not an answer."

  She closed her eyes. "What do you want me to say? I can lie to you and tell you that I'm rock solid here, but what would that accomplish? I can tell you the truth and watch that look come into your eyes again. But I don't want to see it Vince. Not now."

  "What look?"

  "The one that tells me you can't wait to get the hell away from me."

  "You've got it all wrong, Red."

  "Do I? Fine. I'll tell you how I'm holding up, and then we'll see. I'm sick inside. I'm wide awake and tense as hell, and I know, every part of me knows, that if I go to sleep tonight—or maybe any night ever again—the nightmares will come. If I lower my guard for as much as a second, even enough to take a deep breath, my heart's gonna start pounding like a racehorse in the homestretch, and I won't be able to breathe. My darkness is squatting like a demon, right around the next corner, lurking in every shadow, just waiting for me to slip. And when I do it's gonna grab me, Vince, and I don't know if I can fight my way free the next time it does. I really don't." She paused, looking back toward the hospital room she'd just
left, and the one beside it, taking a breath. "The only thing keeping me from curling into the fetal position, in a corner somewhere, is knowing that Amanda needs me, and my mother needs me, and Bethany needs me. And all of the sudden I get it. I totally get why you don't want that burden of being needed put on you. I get it, Vince, because I'm scared to death I'm going to let them down. The way I let my sister down."

  He didn't say anything for a long time. Didn't touch her. Just stood there, looking at her until she forced herself to lift her head and look back. She expected to see pity in his eyes. The kind of pity you feel when you pass a homeless person talking to herself on the streets in a big city. But she didn't see anything like that.

  "I got news for you, Holly Newman. I need you, too."

  She sucked in a breath, wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.

  "You are one of the strongest people I've ever met. And you can fight your demons. And you will win."

  “That's bullshit and you know it."

  A muted, cotton muffled voice came over the P.A. system. "Detective O'Mally to the E.R. Detective O'Mally to the E.R."

  He lifted a hand, stroked her hair. "You're doing great. Stay here, keep Amanda company, see to your mother. Hang tough just a little longer. I have a feeling things are gonna be all right this time, Red. I really do."

  She shook her head. "I'm gonna lose it and you're gonna walk away. Bethany's either going to be scarred for the rest of her life, or die in the next day or so. I don't see anything all right about any of this."

  Doc Graycloud came out of the room, cleared his throat. "Detective, I need a word with you."

  "Walk with me down to the E.R. then," Vince told him. He kept his eyes riveted on Holly. "I'll be back up later on. As soon as I can. Wait for me. We really do need to talk."

  She nodded, but turned away. She didn't watch him go. She felt his eyes on her though, as he left with Doc. She felt them on her until she heard the elevator doors slide closed, and the soft ping of its bell.