Excerpt of Family First by Margaret Watson

WHAT WAS he trying to hide?

Kira leaned back in her chair and watched Detective Donovan roam her office, his hands jammed in his pockets. Nervous energy poured off him as he studied the pictures on her wall, stared out the window, nudged a chair with the toe of his shoe. Finally he picked up the statue of the young girl fishing. He studied it for a moment, then set it back down on the table with too much force.

"This is all bogus, Doc." He slouched into a chair and focused on the wall behind her head.

"What's bogus?" she asked calmly.

"All of this." He waved his hand around the office.

"Needing to talk to you. To make sure I'm handling the shooting. You've already talked to McDougal and A.J. You know Doak Talbott's was a righteous shooting."

"Yes, I've talked to Mac and A.J. But they didn't shoot Talbott, Detective. You did."

"I did what I was supposed to do."

Kira watched Jake jiggle his foot. "Shooting a civilian is something the department takes very seriously." She held up her hand as Donovan tried to interrupt her. "Yes, I know the facts. I know what his alleged crimes were. But you still killed a man."

"Did they tell you about the 'alleged' bruises on his kid? And his wife?" Donovan met her gaze, his eyes blazing. "Did they tell you about the 'alleged' gun he was holding to a civilian's head?"

"I know all the alleged facts of the case, Detective. I need to know how you feel about what you had to do."

"I feel like I did my job. Period. End of story." His expression was defiant.

Kira threw her pen on her desk and leaned back. "You know how this works, Detective Donovan. I can't release you for active duty until I'm certain this shooting hasn't affected your ability to do your job. You can make it easy and cooperate with me, or you can do it the hard way. It's up to you."

Donovan studied her for a long moment. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head, as he relaxed in the chair and gave her his patented sweet-talk-the-pants-off- you smile.

"I choose easy, Doc."

"Good choice," Kira said. She nodded, encouraging him.

"Okay, so here's what happened. You know the story — Doak Talbott was wanted for domestic abuse and the murder of a waitress at the country club. He was afraid his son had seen him burying bloody clothes, so he had to get a hold of the kid. He found out where Jamie was staying..." Jake rubbed his side, the spot where his gun normally rested. "He tried to take Jamie's aunt hostage and was threatening everybody — his kid, the aunt and A.J. He wouldn't put down his gun. In my judgment, he was prepared to shoot all of us. I had to kill him."

"And how did you feel about that?" Kira asked again, patiently.

"It doesn't matter. I had no choice. If I hadn't killed him, he would have killed the kid. Or the kid's aunt. Or A.J. Or Mac. Or me." Donovan spread his hands and smiled, his sleepy eyes crinkling at the corners. "So you can sign off on me and take it easy for the rest of the hour."

"Nice try, Detective." Kira noted the tension behind his smile. "But I have to tell you, you're not being real original. At least half of the police officers who walk in here tell me the same thing." Her lips twitched. "The last time I was surrounded by so many selfless people, I was in grade school with the nuns."

"Very funny, Doc." Jake scowled. "You're a real comedian. What do you want me to say?" His gaze drifted to the picture of snow-capped mountains beneath a full moon. "I did my job."

"That's the point, Detective. In the course of doing your job, you killed a man."

He froze for a fraction of a second, then shrugged. "I feel good. The bastard didn't deserve to live."

Kira closed her eyes and wondered, again, why she'd taken this job. "Detective Donovan," she said, giving him a level look, "do you want to go back on active duty?"

"What do you think?"

"What do I think?" she repeated. "I think you'd better get something straight. Unless you want to spend the rest of your career with the Riverton Police Department riding a desk, you'll respect both me and this process. So can we start over without the smart-ass answers?"

"You don't like smart-ass?" Instead of the defensiveness she expected, Donovan's mouth curled up in a wicked grin. "I'm thinking you're not a lot of fun, Doc."

"That would be correct, Detective. So why don't you knock off the lame attempts to make me forget why you're here? The quicker I can complete my report to the oversight board, the quicker you can get back to active duty. Unless you want to work a desk indefinitely." She cocked her head, waiting for his answer.

"That's very sexy, Doc. That no-nonsense, I-like-to-play- hardball attitude."

Despite the grin, she saw raw discomfort in his eyes. And something that might have been fear.

"Jake, nothing you say here goes beyond these doors," she said gently. "You know that, don't you?"

"Sure."

"Then what's the problem?"

"What do you want to hear? That I went home and puked my guts out after I shot Talbott? That I rode the porcelain bus all night?"

"Is that what happened?"

He grabbed a stapler from her desk, tossed it from hand to hand. "Of course not. Why would I get so upset about that loser?" He didn't meet her gaze.

"What did you do that night?"

"I watched the ball game, had a beer or two." His grin looked shaky. "That would be the White Sox. I'm not one of those yuppie, wine-drinking Cubs fans."

"Duly noted." She tilted her head, determined to keep him on track. "How did you sleep that night?"

He raised his eyebrows. "That's pretty personal, Doc. Are you looking for details of my...sleeping habits?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Donovan." She slapped the desk, her temper slipping.

Glancing at the clock, she said, "Your time is up.Would you like to make an appointment for our next session?"

Donovan frowned. "What do you mean, "next' session?"

"Just what I said. We didn't make much progress so we'll try again. When would be convenient for you?"

She opened her appointment book, watching him fume.

"No time would be convenient," he finally said, scowling again. "Mac has been working overtime for the past week, doing both of our jobs. He needs a break. I need to be back on duty."

"Then maybe next time you'll be more cooperative." Standing, he stared down at her, anger gathering in his face. Kira kept her gaze fixed on his simmering blue eyes. She watched as he struggled for control, watched as the heat faded.

"I'll have to check my schedule," he muttered.

"Fine. Get back to me when you can."

He slammed the door so hard her desk shook.

Kira pushed away from her desk and rubbed her eyes. Charming, sexy Jake Donovan — legendary in the Riverton Police Department for sweet-talking whatever he wanted from criminals and coworkers alike — was the last thing she needed right now.

Once again, the contract she'd signed with the police department to do psychological assessments came back to haunt her. She stuffed her folders into her briefcase as she glanced at the clock, hoping she wouldn't be late. Again. She'd do the job she was paid to do. Even if it involved spending several more hours with such a difficult man.

JAKE TURNED into the men's room and gave the water faucet a vicious twist, then splashed cold water on his face until his eyes stopped burning. He yanked paper towels out of the dispenser, pressed them to his forehead.

With a hissed oath, he shoved the wet wad into the trash can, scraping his knuckles on the edge as he drew back his hand.

The rage he'd tried so hard to control burst free in a blur of red and black. He kicked over the can and then ripped the dispenser off its bracket and heaved it at the wall. It bounced off the tile, hit the sink with a whine of metal, then crashed to the floor. Dented on one side, the handle broken off, it slid to a stop beneath the door of a stall.

When he stormed out of the washroom one of the patrol officers was at the door. "You okay, Donovan?"

"Just peachy," Jake snarled.

The officer cleared his throat. "I...ah...heard something fall in there. You sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine." Jake pushed past him and threw himself into his desk chair.

"Hey, Jake," his partner Mac said, looking up from his work. "Doc McGinnis clear you for takeoff?"

"No." Jake cursed. "I have to go back."

Mac came over and propped himself on the edge of the desk. "What happened?" he asked in a low voice.

"Nothing." Jake grabbed a file and thumbed through it without seeing it. "She was pushing and pushing, trying to make me spill my damn guts to her."

Jake slammed the file onto his desk. "I don't do the gut- spilling thing. With anyone. Let alone a psychologist." He snorted. "She said I wasn't taking her seriously. How can anyone take that crap seriously?"

"Really? She thought Jake Donovan wasn't being serious?" Mac's lips twitched. "Obviously she's mistaken you for someone else."

A patrol officer led a man dressed in an expensive suit into the room. His hands were cuffed behind him, and Jake turned away to tune out the perp's loud protestations of innocence.

"Screw you, McDougal."

"Come on, Jake. She's not Barb."

Jake glared at his partner. "This doesn't have anything to do with Barb."

"No?"

"Why would it? Barb is ancient history."

"Jake. Your ex-wife, who just happens to be a psychologist, tap-danced on your head. And you're telling me you're not thinking about Barb when you're supposed to talk to another psychologist?"

"You're a shrink now?" Jake asked, his voice dripping with scorn. "You take a mail order course? Or is A.J. giving you lessons?" He picked up an empty paper coffee cup and slammed it into the wastebasket.

"If I was engaged to a woman like A.J., I'd sure as hell have better things to do with her."

"You're a bright guy, Donovan," Mac said. "You know what the doc needs to hear. Fill in the blanks for her."

"I suppose you liked her poking around in your head?"

"Hell, no. But she made it as painless as possible." Mac returned to his chair. "Just get it over with. Maybe if you're straight with her next time, she'll cut you loose."

"Not likely," Jake muttered. "She's the type that won't let go. That woman has major control issues." His mouth twisted. "As she would say."