Read Gingerbread Man for Free Online Page A

lifted her brows. "Me, too."
    "Mom says he used to have one of these parties every single year, before he moved away. She says they were the best parties anywhere, when she was a kid."
    "My aunt Jen told me the same thing. That spooky old house of his has to be the best place around for a Halloween party."
    "Yeah." Bethany nodded hard. "Maybe I will go. If you really think I'm not too old."
    "You're definitely not too old."
    Bethany smiled up at her. "Will you help me figure out a costume?"
    "We will put together the best costume Dilmun has ever seen." She clasped Bethany's hand, led her to the door, and they walked out together.
    Halfway to the table, Bethany looked up with her bright blue eyes and said, "Having you next door is like having my very own older sister. I always wanted one, you know."
    Holly's smile froze in place as Bethany turned and ran to join her mom at their corner booth.

FOUR
----

    HIM.
IT'S HIM! What the hell is he doing here? I know his face. He's the cop who found the bodies. His face was splashed all over the papers. And now he's here. Jesus, sweet Jesus, does he know? Is he onto me?
    Oh, God, he's talking to
her
of all people!
    Okay, wait. I need to get a grip, here. He may not know anything at all about me. About her, maybe, but that's okay. That's okay, that won't tell him a fucking thing. It would explain his coming out here. Talking to her. But that's all. Maybe that's all.
    Son of a bitch found my place. Found my sugarpie and her goddamn brother before I could put them to rest. Of course, the boy wouldn't have gone beside her. He didn't belong. He got in the way.
    Holly is a basket case. She's crazy. He'll find that out soon enough. She won't be any help to him at all. She's fucking crazy. Everyone knows it.
    But why is he here? Why is he lying about what he's doing here?
    To protect the crazy bitch, maybe. Yeah. Yeah, that could be it. He has to know I won't let her talk to him.
He figures if I know what he's really after, I'll have to shut her up, just in case. But she may not know, either. If she did, she 'd have run her mouth about it long before now, wouldn't she? Fucking ungrateful little brats usually did if you let them.
    Still, that nosy cop might not know a damn thing. Not yet. Not yet.
    But what if he does?
    Hell, I've got to be sure.
    * * *
    HOLLY DIDN'T GO straight home from work. She started to. She walked along her usual route, back through the strip, where the shops were mostly closed now, all the way down to the leading edge of Lake-view Road. Her home, her safe, comfortable haven, was five houses ahead on the right.
    So why did her eyes keep wandering along Shoreline Drive's beach-hugging loop? Why was her body turning to take that stretch of road, even though it meant turning right into the brisk, chilly wind? And why on earth were her feet carrying her amid the rustling leaves, along the gravel road that was all but deserted at this time of the year?
    She didn't know. She did know that it was a mistake. Disaster always followed when you took the long way home, she'd learned. You just didn't veer from your routine. You stuck to a plan, and in that way you could be in control.
    She wasn't in control right now. And that scared her.
    The lake was dotted with dancing whitecaps, and the wind nipped at her nose and cheeks, grazing them. The closer she walked, sneakers crunching over gravel, the more intense that wind became. Trees lined the left side of the road, their limbs shedding any remaining leaves rapidly, their colors fading like the color of an old man's eyes. Tall reeds, cattails, and muck stretched for several yards along the roadside. As she passed those waving, whispering rushes, the sky seemed to darken by degrees. It was as if every breath of wind blew a little more of the daylight away. It was completely unlike her not to go straight home. And she hadn't gone through all those years of therapy not to know why that was, but she refused to think about it. She'd come