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saying a word, he reached for the coffee mug
in front of Holly, flipped it upright, and filled it. "Coffee's on
me, Red," he told her.
    "That isn't necessary," Holly said.
    "Sure it is. You told me yourself you never
got a cup this morning." He glanced across the table. "You haven't
introduced me to your friend." As he spoke he lifted the pot and
arched a questioning brow. Doris nodded and Vince filled her cup as
well.
    "I'm Doris, she said with a smile. "Holly's
mother."
    Holly didn't like the man. Something about
him set her teeth on edge. Still, she said, "Mom, this is Detective
O'Mally—"
    "Vince," he said.
    "Right. Vince. He's with the Syracuse Police
Department. Their special library crimes unit or something." He
shot her an amused look as he took her mother's hand in
greeting.
    "It's a pleasure, Ms. Newman."
    "Call me Doris," she said. Then she turned to
Holly. "And how is it you two know each other?"
    "I had some business with the chief this
morning," Vince said before Holly could answer. "There was a mishap
with the coffee, the pot got smashed to bits, and I think it was
partly my fault. I doubt Holly ever got her morning caffeine."
    "Really?" Doris looked from Vince to Holly
and back again. "And, um... are you here at the cafe all alone?"
When O'Mally nodded, Holly knew what was coming but couldn't speak
quickly enough to prevent it. "Well, why don't you pull up a chair
and join us?"
    Vince glanced at Holly, but where she
expected to see a smirk of triumph in his eyes, she saw only a
question. Reluctantly, she nodded. Only then did he say, "Thanks, I
think I will." He pulled up a chair from a nearby vacant table, and
sat down at theirs.
    "What brings you to Dilmun, Detective?"
    "Oh, just vacation time. I have a couple of
weeks to fill. Thought someplace quiet would do me good."
    "I'd say you came to the right place. We used
to live in Syracuse, you know. Liked it so much down here we never
wanted to go back."
    "Really?" Vince glanced at Holly. "You didn't
mention that."
    She only shrugged. But she sent her mother a
pleading look. They didn't talk about that time, that place. They
just didn't. Her mother was breaking a sacred, if unspoken, vow by
even mentioning it.
    "How long have you been living here?" Vince
asked.
    "Gosh, must be going on five years now."
    "And where in Syracuse did you live?"
    Holly set her cup down on the table. Hard.
Her mother, who had been about to answer him, closed her mouth and
they both looked at Holly, brows raised. "Will you two excuse me
for a minute?" She got to her feet. "I just... uh... I'll be back."
Holly hurried into the restroom, closed the door behind her, stood
there, and realized she'd counted again. She'd counted the steps to
the restroom, and she had no idea if it had been aloud or not.
    She braced her hands on the sink, and stared
into the mirror. "Okay, so what's going on with you, huh?" she
asked her reflection.
    "You okay, Holly?" a small voice asked.
    Holly turned to see Bethany Stevens standing
there looking up at her with eyes big enough to swim in.
    Holly swallowed hard, and plastered a smile
on her face. "Hey, you. What are you doing out of school?"
    "Half day today. Good thing, too. It's tough
this year."
    "Yeah, I'll bet. I heard you got Mrs.
Predmore."
    Bethany nodded. "She's not mean or anything.
Just gives lots of homework."
    "Second grade is like that."
    Bethany came up to the sink, turned on the
tap, and washed her hands. "Me and Mom decided to have lunch out.
Dad had to go out of town this week, so it's just us." The little
girl stood on tiptoes to look into the mirror, fussed a bit with
her long blonde hair.
    "So, have you decided yet?" Holly asked.
"About the Halloween party?"
    Beth shrugged. "What do you think, Holly? Do you think I'm too old to dress up for Halloween?"
    Holly smiled, and wished for the times
something so small was the major dilemma of the day. "Bethany, I
still dress up for Halloween," she said.
    "I sure would like to see the inside