for weeks. She knew from experience that by the end of the day, they might be able to hear it and minutes later climb into the car and crack a joke, or talk about dinner plans, or a movie one of them had seen last weekend. They might even think themselves inured, but the horror would be lurking deep in their psyches, the reminder of the sprawled bodies, the acrid scent of blood, the remembered terror on every face.
How would she get through this summer, working this horrific case, worrying about her daughter, worrying about herself? she wondered in a kind of daze. Partnered with a macho jerk who could smile like that?
A man who, insane though the very idea was, would be the father of the unborn child she might be carrying, if the fates chose to teach her a lesson.
----
Chapter 4
« ^ »
" H ow do you know when you're in love?"
Nell turned her head sharply.
Kim lay sprawled on the couch, the remote control in her hand, the videotape she'd been playing on pause. She still gazed dreamily at the TV, as though an imagined movie continued in her mind's eye.
Carefully, Nell set down her book. "Nobody your age can really, truly be in love."
The dreamy look vanished, replaced by clear resentment. "Why won't you even talk to me?"
"I am talking."
The movie burst into life with a cacophony of street sounds. Kim froze it again with an impatient punch of her thumb. "You're not talking, you're putting me down."
Was she? Maybe, Nell admitted ruefully. She was lucky Kim was still willing to ask what she thought.
"I don't mean it as a put-down to say that you're too young to know real love." She shifted to tuck one foot under her. "Part of growing up is that you're always reaching for the next stage of development. You're getting physically mature now, but you don't have quite your full height or curves yet. You don't resent that."
"I resent being told I'm incapable of deep feelings," Kim declared, mouth sulky. In loose drawstring flannel pajama bottoms and a tiny tank top, she was the quintessential child-woman. "Does that mean I don't really love you, either?"
Had she been this touchy at that age, Nell wondered.
Duh.
"Love for your parents is part of your makeup from the moment you're born. Having that love—or need—reciprocated means survival for a baby. You're barely reaching the age when that same kind of attachment between you and a man is part of your biological drive."
Kim rolled her eyes. "You sound like a sex- ed film."
"Are they necessarily wrong?"
Her daughter shrugged, staring moodily at the television again. "People used to get married by my age. Romeo and Juliet weren't even sixteen."
"Maybe physical development was compressed. Remember, they were old by their thirties."
Interest sparked on Kim's face. "You mean, you'd be an old lady?"
"Hey!" Nell protested. "I'm only thirty-two."
"You said—"
"Okay." She made a face. "Yeah. I'd have passed my prime childbearing years, assuming I hadn't died in childbirth. For sure, you'd be giving me grand-kids." She couldn't suppress a shudder.
Kim chortled. "You are so paranoid! You couldn't even say that without freaking!"
"You know," Nell said quietly, "I do have reason to be paranoid."
"You think no teenager should ever fall in love or have sex, just because you got pregnant. Lots of my friends have sex, and they don't get pregnant."
Lots of her friends. Nell almost whimpered.
"Do they use birth control?"
"I guess." Kim shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "You're just so old-fashioned! It's not like I'd be ruined if I turned seventeen and I wasn't a virgin anymore."
Nell had always tried to be honest with her daughter. Now she admitted, "No, of course you wouldn't be. But what if you did get pregnant? Remember, no method of birth control is one hundred percent effective. Would you be comfortable getting an abortion? Maybe some of your friends have."
Kim was silent, head bent, a curtain of hair hiding what she knew.
"Is Colin prepared to marry you?" Nell
How would she get through this summer, working this horrific case, worrying about her daughter, worrying about herself? she wondered in a kind of daze. Partnered with a macho jerk who could smile like that?
A man who, insane though the very idea was, would be the father of the unborn child she might be carrying, if the fates chose to teach her a lesson.
----
Chapter 4
« ^ »
" H ow do you know when you're in love?"
Nell turned her head sharply.
Kim lay sprawled on the couch, the remote control in her hand, the videotape she'd been playing on pause. She still gazed dreamily at the TV, as though an imagined movie continued in her mind's eye.
Carefully, Nell set down her book. "Nobody your age can really, truly be in love."
The dreamy look vanished, replaced by clear resentment. "Why won't you even talk to me?"
"I am talking."
The movie burst into life with a cacophony of street sounds. Kim froze it again with an impatient punch of her thumb. "You're not talking, you're putting me down."
Was she? Maybe, Nell admitted ruefully. She was lucky Kim was still willing to ask what she thought.
"I don't mean it as a put-down to say that you're too young to know real love." She shifted to tuck one foot under her. "Part of growing up is that you're always reaching for the next stage of development. You're getting physically mature now, but you don't have quite your full height or curves yet. You don't resent that."
"I resent being told I'm incapable of deep feelings," Kim declared, mouth sulky. In loose drawstring flannel pajama bottoms and a tiny tank top, she was the quintessential child-woman. "Does that mean I don't really love you, either?"
Had she been this touchy at that age, Nell wondered.
Duh.
"Love for your parents is part of your makeup from the moment you're born. Having that love—or need—reciprocated means survival for a baby. You're barely reaching the age when that same kind of attachment between you and a man is part of your biological drive."
Kim rolled her eyes. "You sound like a sex- ed film."
"Are they necessarily wrong?"
Her daughter shrugged, staring moodily at the television again. "People used to get married by my age. Romeo and Juliet weren't even sixteen."
"Maybe physical development was compressed. Remember, they were old by their thirties."
Interest sparked on Kim's face. "You mean, you'd be an old lady?"
"Hey!" Nell protested. "I'm only thirty-two."
"You said—"
"Okay." She made a face. "Yeah. I'd have passed my prime childbearing years, assuming I hadn't died in childbirth. For sure, you'd be giving me grand-kids." She couldn't suppress a shudder.
Kim chortled. "You are so paranoid! You couldn't even say that without freaking!"
"You know," Nell said quietly, "I do have reason to be paranoid."
"You think no teenager should ever fall in love or have sex, just because you got pregnant. Lots of my friends have sex, and they don't get pregnant."
Lots of her friends. Nell almost whimpered.
"Do they use birth control?"
"I guess." Kim shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "You're just so old-fashioned! It's not like I'd be ruined if I turned seventeen and I wasn't a virgin anymore."
Nell had always tried to be honest with her daughter. Now she admitted, "No, of course you wouldn't be. But what if you did get pregnant? Remember, no method of birth control is one hundred percent effective. Would you be comfortable getting an abortion? Maybe some of your friends have."
Kim was silent, head bent, a curtain of hair hiding what she knew.
"Is Colin prepared to marry you?" Nell
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