Gingerbread Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

belonged to a judge's son, I wouldn't even be bothering
with this." He lied as smoothly as a politician, he thought. And
yet something flickered in the chief's eyes. Was that a hint of
suspicion behind the friendly smile? Had there been the slightest
narrowing of those worry-free eyes? No. Not now, at least. If there
had been such a flash, it was gone fast. "I tried to talk to Ms.
Baker, over at the library, last night but she wasn't too inclined
to help me out. And it's not as if I have a warrant or anything, so
I didn't push. Like I said, I just figured as long as I was in town
..." He left the words hanging in the air.
    The chief's feet came down with a thump and
he sat up in his chair. "Local folks around Dilmun are a little bit
wary of strangers. Oh, they don't mind the tourists much—but they
don't mix with 'em, either."
    "I see."
    'Tell you what. You give me the title of that
overdue library book, and I'll get the information for you—that is,
if the library even has a record of the book being missing." He
reached for a pen, held it poised and sent Vince a questioning
look.
    "It was a children's book. The Gingerbread
Man. "
    The chief blinked. "You're joking."
    "Nope." Vince shrugged. "I told you it was a
long-shot."
    He looked at Vince for a long moment, then
his face split in a huge grin. His hands slapped the desk. Gusts of
laughter burst from him, and Vince wasn't sure, but he thought the
man's eyes began to water. "That must be one badass car thief," he
gasped, between bouts of hilarity, "with readin' material like
that!"
    Vince smiled, too, shaking his head as if he
found it all just as funny. "Well, we found the book in the
vehicle, and it didn't belong to the owner. So we figured ..."
Vince lifted his hands expressively.
    The chief got his laughter under control,
wiped at his eyes, drew a steadying breath.
    "I don't plan to worry too much one way or
the other," Vince told him. "I'm gonna laze around the cabin and
look out at the lake, and anything more strenuous than that will
have to wait till my vacation time is used up."
    Grinning broadly, the chief nodded. "I hear
that. So you rented one of Marty Cantrell's cabins, did you?"
    "Sure did. It's gorgeous out there."
    "Fishing's not bad, either."
    "No?"
    The door opened and the redhead walked in
with the pot of coffee. She reached up to the shelf behind the door
to take down two real coffee mugs—no foam cups for the chief of
police around here—and, setting them on the desk, began to pour.
"Must be something pretty funny going on in here," she said as she
filled the mugs. Her gaze slid over Vince's face, seemed to catch
on his eyes before she managed to jerk it free.
    "Detective O'Mally is looking for someone
with an overdue library book," the chief said, laughter still in
his voice.
    She lifted her brows. "Really?" She sent him
a glance that was almost teasing. He found he liked it on her far
better than the irritated expression that was all he'd managed to
induce in her earlier. "They must think very highly of you at
S.P.D. to send you out here on such a delicate case."
    He gave her a smirk. She only smirked
back.
    "You haven't heard the best part yet," the
chief went on. "This must be one hardened criminal he's after. The
missing book—it's The Gingerbread Man."
    Vince saw something change in her face. Like
the light in her eyes just blinked out, or some kind of shade came
crashing down to block it out. Her cheeks paled.
    " 'Run, run, run, as fast as you can. You
can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man,' " Chief Mallory
chanted.
    The redhead dropped the coffee pot. It
shattered, and hot black liquid splashed onto the legs of her
jeans. She stood there, staring down at the mess as if she didn't
quite know what it was.
    Vince and the chief were on their feet
instantly, the chief coming around the desk to grip the woman's
shoulders. "Damn, Holly, you could've scalded yourself!" He pushed
her backward a couple of steps, out of the mess. "You