Maternal Instinct. Janice Kay Johnson

watched him hoist his daughter out of the high chair and into the air. She laughed joyously, and he laughed back with pleasure as uncomplicated.

      A man could almost be jealous.

      If he weren’t also feeling claustrophobic surrounded by Family, with a capital F. Men casually wrapping their arms around their wives, who fussed over Mom, kids everywhere, McLeans by birth or marriage. Hugh loved every one of them. The only loner, he also felt as if he didn’t quite belong.

      As if he maybe never would.

      He made his excuses, kissed his mother and escaped with intense relief.

      KIM APPEARED, sleepy-eyed, as Nell was setting her coffee mug and cereal bowl in the dishwasher. Even with bed hair, puffy eyes and creases on her cheek, she was beautiful, with the innocent sexuality and bloom worshipped by the youth-crazy culture. Her hair was the color of honey shot with sunlight, her eyes were a sparkling blue, her pouty mouth sensual, her forehead a high smooth arch, her walk a leggy saunter.

      Nell longed to see a hideous red pimple. Something, anything, that would repulse the boyfriend.

      “What are you doing up?” she asked, with quick suspicion she tried to disguise.

      Kim yawned prettily. “Colin and I are going to Lake Crescent today. Remember?” She saw that, no, Mom did not. “His uncle’s going to take us water-skiing?”

      “Oh.” That did sound familiar. Wonderful. A long drive, just the two of them, and then Kim would strip to her tiny bikini. Colin would be panting to rip it off her by the time lake water beaded her warm skin. “Sorry,” Nell mumbled. “I forgot. It’s been a bad…” She clamped her mouth shut. “When will you be home?”

      Kim ran her hands through her hair and yawned again. The hem of her T-shirt nightie rose alarmingly. “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I suppose we might grab a burger on the way home.”

      Nell glanced at the clock. She had to go or she’d be the last to roll call again. Maternal anxiety held her in place.

      “What’s happened to all your other friends?” She tried to sound casual. “You haven’t seen Polly in ages, have you?”

      Kim opened the cupboard and studied the row of cereal boxes. “We talked yesterday.”

      “You’re spending an awful lot of time with Colin.”

      Her daughter chose a sugary, marshmallow studded cereal. “So? We’re having fun. It’s summer.”

      “You’re together all day. Every day.”

      “Mom, don’t worry.”

      “How can I help it?” She gave another desperate glance toward the clock.

      Kim saw. “You’re late. Go. I won’t get pregnant today. I promise.”

      It had to do. Nell kissed her cheek and said, “Have fun. Just…”

      “Not too much,” her sixteen-year-old finished for her. “Jeez, Mom.”

      Kim was patient with her, Nell had to give her that. They had a good relationship; Kim listened to her.

      So why did that not feel like enough?

      Because Kim was a teenager, with all that entailed. Nell remembered far too well what that had been like. How her scope had narrowed until now mattered more than tomorrow. Her boyfriend hadn’t called, so her life must be over. Amid the great tragedies looming in this fantasy landscape, she had never considered the one that had befallen her mother and would bring her down in turn: teenage pregnancy. Nothing that had happened to her mother could happen to her, she’d thought dismissively. Nobody got pregnant just because they did it once. Or twice, or a dozen times. After all, they used a condom sometimes. Most of the time.

      She could see the same recklessness, the same disregard, in Kim’s eyes when she soothed her mother’s fears. Kim must feel as if she’d heard it a thousand times. She would be tired of hearing it. Grandma had gotten pregnant when she was sixteen. Mom was stupid enough to do the same. What did that have to do with her?

      Besides, she and Colin were in love. Like Romeo and Juliet. The forever kind. His calls, his laugh, his smile, his frown, were what mattered. Making love was as inevitable as the creeks swelling in the spring with snowmelt. She and Colin could do it once, or a few times. They’d be careful.

      Oh, yes. Nell knew exactly how her daughter was thinking.

      What scared Nell most was that Kim might look at her and decide that an early pregnancy wasn’t so bad. After all, Mom had a cool house and a good job. Kim didn’t remember the hard times, when Mom was skin and bones because she bought baby food with her coupons and paid the rent with her puny earnings and didn’t have enough left for food for herself. Or the nights they’d once spent in the car, shivering inside blankets, Nell terrified by every footfall on the sidewalk, because she had fallen behind on the rent and had too much pride to go home to Mom again.

      Sometimes she wished Kim did remember.

      In the station parking garage, Nell leaped out of her Subaru and raced across the concrete floor toward the elevator.

      Disheveled and breathing hard, she slipped into the room just as the captain began to speak. He saw her, gave her a hard look. A flush of embarrassment joined the heat rushing had already brought to Nell’s cheeks.

      Captain Fisher sent the patrol officers out first, then brought the Joplin Building crew up to date, ending with, “Granstrom and McLean, you’ll be with the detectives today. Everyone…do your jobs and do them carefully.”

      Had Hugh pulled strings after all? Nell wondered, waiting for him out in the hall.

      “What’s up?” she asked quietly, when he joined her.

      His jaw flexed. “John chose us,” he said curtly.

      “You don’t sound happy.”

      His icy eyes met hers. “I’ll do my job, either way.”

      She had to scuttle to catch up with his long stride. “Hey!” He didn’t slow down. “Why do you have a burr up your—”

      Hugh stopped so suddenly she slammed into the hard wall of his back. He swung around, teeth set, and gripped her upper arms. Eyes glittering, he said, “I knew exactly what you’d think. No, I didn’t ooze up to my brother and beg to be given a choice detail. He came to me. End of story.”

      “I didn’t say—”

      “You thought.” He released her so suddenly she staggered.

      “We have a briefing,” he said unemotionally, and stalked off.

      Profane and even obscene descriptions of her new partner presented themselves for her tongue’s pleasure, but she had the self-control not to speak a one. Instead, she marched behind him into a smaller conference room, where John McLean and his partner had charts spread over the large table. Others were crowding in, too.

      “Welcome Officers Granstrom and McLean,” Hugh’s brother said, with a brisk nod. “Okay, here’s where we’re at, folks. Four hundred and forty-two people work in the Joplin Building. We’ve managed so far to talk to fifty-four. We need detailed recollections, before they’ve all watched so damn much TV they start telling us what they heard and not what they experienced themselves.”

      More nods; everyone knew the tricks memory played.

      “We’ve broken them down by where they worked in the building, so that by luck you can track the son of a bitch’s progress down the hall, spot any anomalies. Did he backtrack? Why? It would be good to know whether he targeted individuals, or just shot whoever showed up in his path. Did he track anyone down? If you get someone who wasn’t at her desk, get the story, then pass it on to whichever officer is handling the part of the building where she was during the shooting. Meet here at the end of the day and report anything interesting. Questions?” He looked