Maternal Instinct (14 page)

"If in the meantime she doesn't talk herself into believing she heard wrong."

"She's smarter than that." A note of satisfaction rang in his voice.
"Damn.
We're right. Gann didn't shoot Ryman."

Nell quietly
let herself in the house. Colin's beat-up Chevy wasn't out front, thank goodness. She wasn't in the mood for Kim's boyfriend.

Not, she thought with a flicker of humor, that she was ever in the mood for him.

Music blasted from the living room CD player. Faith Hill, Nell thought. It could have been worse. Kim's tastes were eclectic, and unfortunately included rappers like Eminem, whom Nell despised.

"Hello!" she called, but was drowned out by a plaint to a lost love.

Kim wasn't in the living room. Nell paused to turn down the volume.

"Mom?" Her daughter appeared from the kitchen. "Cool. You're home. I made dinner, and it's almost ready."

"Bless you!" Nell gave her a quick hug. "I really wasn't in the mood for cooking. What are we having?"

"I'm trying this new recipe. It's chicken with curry." Kim wrinkled her nose. "I hope I didn't put in too much. The spoon kinda tipped…"

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Nell said hastily. "Let me change."

"Okay. I'll make a salad."

In shorts and a tank top, Nell returned to the kitchen to find the small table set with place mats and a vase with flowers and the good china, which she'd actually bought for peanuts at a garage sale a few years back.

Kim gave her mother a fleeting, nervous smile as she set the salad bowl on the table. "Have a seat."

Instinctively wary, Nell kept her tone light. "What's the occasion?"

"Nothing." Kim was busy taking the casserole dish from the oven. "I just felt like doing something."

The "something" a teenager felt like doing was rarely cooking dinner for Mom. Kim's cheeks were pink, but that might be from the heat of the oven rather than self-consciousness. Nell hoped.

On the other hand, who was she to judge? What if Kim announced she was pregnant? About all Nell could do was say, "Gee, what a coincidence, so am I." She'd lost the right to condemn, which scared her. As a mother, her
duty
was to provide moral guidance. What good was she, if she couldn't even do that?

"Mom?" Kim sounded as if she were repeating herself.

Nell blinked. "Yes?"

"Do you want something to drink?"

"Oh. Thanks. I'll have a glass of milk."

"Okay." Kim poured two. Usually she grabbed an Italian soda or lemonade and made a face when Nell suggested milk.

Nell's suspicion swelled like the Elwha River in spring.

"This looks great." She dished up, then handed the spoon to her daughter. "So, what'd you do today?"

"Oh, Colin and I just hung out." Kim was very busy serving herself and offering the salad to Mom. "You know."

"He stays for dinner half the time."

Her daughter flashed a quick, elfin grin. "I was trying to spare you."

Nell made her first bite of casserole a tiny one, just in case. The curry was strong but not unbearable. "Hey, this is really good," she said, trying not to sound surprised. Kim's interest in cooking was new these past few months, and she wanted to encourage it.

They chatted while they ate. Nell never quite dared tell her about ongoing cases. Kim had always had an impulsive tongue and a desire to entertain her friends. She wouldn't
mean
to be indiscreet, but she would be nonetheless.

After dinner they cleaned up companionably, giggling over silly jokes and talking about shopping for a fall wardrobe—as if Kim needed new clothes. The moment might be illusory, but they felt … close. As if a boyfriend and teenage hormones hadn't changed their relationship.

The whole while, Nell felt like a fraud. She had to tell Kim. Soon, before Kim noticed how carefully she was eating or heard her retching in the toilet every morning or checked phone messages and caught one confirming the appointment with an obstetrician that Nell had just made.

But Nell couldn't make herself confess. She pictured Kim's shock. Would she be self-righteous then, throwing everything Nell had ever said back in her face? Or would she be humiliated because she'd have to explain to her friends why her mother's belly was swelling? Certainly she'd have to face the fact that her mother was human, fallible.
And
had a sex drive, which was even worse, from a teenager's point of view. Would she be so angry she'd go out and get pregnant, too, just to get even?

"I rented a couple of videos," Kim said. "You want to watch with me?"

One was a movie Nell would have liked to see, but she was already yawning.

"You know, I think I'll go take a long bath and read in bed," she admitted. "I'm beat."

Kim looked appropriately amazed. "All you're doing is talking to people. You aren't even on patrol!"

"I do get up at the crack of dawn," Nell reminded her.

"Mom." Kim crossed her arms. "It's seven-thirty. When are you planning to go to bed? Eight?" Maybe. Nell was lying to a lot of people these days, she realized, including Hugh. She
was
unusually tired. It was true that fatigue hadn't been a problem for her when she was carrying Kim, but she'd been sixteen that time around. She was thirty-two now. It made a difference.

"I said I'm going to read." Nell started down the hall. "I'm in the middle of a great mystery."

Kim trailed her to her bedroom. "I thought maybe we could talk."

Big uh-oh. Chest tight with apprehension, Nell reminded her, "We have been talking."

"Yeah, but…" Kim bit her lip. "Today something … well,
almost
happened. And I just thought maybe… But that's okay," she added hastily, and started to turn.

"Whoa!" Nell sat on the edge of her bed and patted the spot beside her with an emphatic hand. "You're not walking away after that. What
almost
happened?"

The pretty teenager hesitated with her back to her mother. Then she turned and flung herself onto the bed, tears filling her eyes. "You know."

Why now?
Nell implored someone.

"How close is almost?" she asked, trying to sound gentle. "Are you afraid you might have gotten pregnant?"

Lying facedown, Kim shook her head hard. Into the pillow, she mumbled, "He didn't … you know."

Nell gritted her teeth. "Penetrate?"

After a pause, Kim nodded.

"But you did both get undressed? Did you have oral sex, or…"

That brought Kim onto her side. Her drenched blue eyes were wide with shock. "Oral? You mean…
Eeew
!
No! That's gross!"

Nell breathed a maternal sigh of relief. "So … what?"

"We just … mostly took our clothes off and … I wanted to do it!" Kim wailed.

"Did you say no?" Nell asked gently.

Kim nodded, her face tear-drenched. "I kind of chickened out. It was just, like, it felt good, and Colin was saying these really sweet things, and I liked knowing he wanted me. We love each other!"

"But you're young and you won't necessarily be spending your lives together." Nell smoothed her daughter's hair back from her face with a tender hand. "And that's the kind of commitment you should make before you have unprotected sex."

"I could get birth control." The huge blue eyes were suddenly full of hope.

"You could." Nell tried to smile and felt her mouth twist. "But birth control fails sometimes. Anyway, you're only sixteen. You're still my little girl. I just … would like to see you wait until you're a little older, a little surer you're having sex for the right reasons, not to hold on to a boyfriend or to please him or because it feels good without any thought to the consequences."

Hypocrisy, she discovered, burned like an ulcer.

"I'll try." Kim's voice was little-girl young. "But I'm afraid I'll be tempted, and then I might get pregnant."

Nell nodded. "You tell me if you really, really feel you should be on birth control, and I'll take you to Dr. Hoskins. Okay?"

Kim gave a jerky nod, then scooted over until she could lay her cheek on her mother's lap. "I love you."

Tears stung Nell's eyes. "I love you, too."

"I know." Kim sniffed. "Even when I get mad, I know. I'm glad you're my mom. You're better than all my friends' moms."

Nell had to clear her throat. "Thank you."

She should tell her.
Now.
But like a coward she sat silent, her own cheeks damp, and cradled her daughter's soft cheek.

"We're back
on patrol," Hugh told Nell tersely the next morning.

She stopped in the hall, forcing the other officers leaving roll call to part to go around them like the river current around a stubborn boulder.
"What?"

He felt his mouth tighten. "You heard me. The captain says we can finish up interviews to try to find the missing weapon, but we'll do it around our—I quote—
'routine
duties.'"

"In other words, your brother isn't the only one who thinks your theory is crap."

Your
theory. Smart. She was washing her hands of his harebrained idea.

Only, she frowned fiercely as if having heard herself.
"Our
theory," Nell corrected herself.

He didn't know whether she really believed in it, or whether she thought partners should go down together. Either way, he appreciated the sentiment.

Hugh said, "I told the captain we've found two witnesses so far who believe the shot near the elevator came first. He said, 'You've presented your idea. When the evidence is all gathered, the detectives will consider it.'" Hugh scowled, remembering. "In other words, quit thinking, it's not your job."

His partner looked appropriately steamed. "You should grab the next promotion. You're the one who's using your head."

He couldn't help his lopsided grin. "Hey. You're making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

Still mad, she didn't lose the frown gathering her forehead. "Why don't they want to believe…"

At a glimpse of blue from the corner of his eye, Hugh gripped her arm. "
Ssh
. Here comes the captain."

Striding down the hall toward them, Captain Fisher snapped in his grainy voice, "
Granstrom
."

She swallowed and turned. "Sir."

Rocking on the balls of his feet, he looked her over in a way meant to be offensive. "Sleeping in these days?"

Hugh had known this was coining and intended to warn her.

A flush touched her cheeks. "Sir?"

Fisher thrust his jaw forward until their faces were only a few inches apart. "You're late to roll call every goddamn day. I said, Are you sleeping in?"

She didn't flinch, Hugh had to give her that. Voice cool and steady, she said, "I apologize, sir. It won't happen again."

"And why did it?" he growled.

Hugh itched to leap to her defense. But what could he say?
She's pregnant, sir. Puking her guts out every morning. Carrying my baby, sir.

"I … haven't felt well this week. Sir," she added belatedly. "A touch of flu."

"You look peaked," he said unexpectedly.

"I'm fine. Just a little nauseated."

"Call in if you're sick. Otherwise, be here." He gave an abrupt nod. "Now get the hell out on the street! Don't stand gossiping in the hall."

Hugh felt her simmer as they headed for the parking garage. The minute the heavy metal door shut behind them, she burst out, "Jerk!"