Silent Witness

by Lindsay McKenna

  “I think you’re drawing entirely too many fanciful conclusions out of my dream. It was probably caused by the anchovies I had on my pizza last night.” He turned onto the street that would lead them to the condominiums.

  Ellen laughed huskily. “I feel there’s a special tie between you and Susan. You didn’t seem at all affected by anything yesterday,” she observed, watching his expression closely.

  “I was feeling a lot, I just didn’t show it.”

  “Oh? Like what?”

  Cochrane guided the gray Ford Taurus into the parking lot of Susan’s condominium and shut off the engine. “For some stupid reason, Kane’s case has grabbed me by the throat. I don’t know why.” He reached into the rear seat for his briefcase, pulled it forward and settled it on his lap. He dropped the car keys into it and took out a door key for the condo. “Maybe because Susan reminds me of my daughter. I don’t know.”

  Ellen climbed out and caught up with Cochrane on the sidewalk, near some large, shiny-leafed hibiscus bushes with red, pink and white blossoms. She realized Cochrane trusted her with that highly personal tidbit of information. “Your daughter has a teddy bear, too?”

  He smiled fondly. “Yeah, a cute little Winnie the Pooh bear I bought her. I couldn’t be there for her birth. As soon as I put the bear in Merry’s tiny little hands, she grabbed onto it.” His voice lowered with feeling. “I just stood there and cried because she was so perfect. So beautiful. And that bear’s been Merry’s security blanky ever since.”

  Ellen gave him a soft look. “How special. That bear’s a real bond between you and her.”

  “My ex-wife used to tell me that when I had to leave, Merry would clutch that bear like it was her life. And when I would come off TDY, temporary duty assignment, and return home, she’d put the bear back on her bed and sleep with it at night, like she usually does when I’m around.”

  “Mmm,” Ellen murmured. “Bear and Daddy are one in the same, then. She equates the bear with you and feeling safe.” They mounted the stairs to the condo.

  He arched one eyebrow as he fished for the condo keys in his pocket. “More psychobabble from the shrink?”

  She grinned. The glint in his eyes conveyed kindness, not nastiness. “It’s excellent information, Mr. Cochrane.”

  “Merry doesn’t like it when I’m not at home, but now, well, I reckon she’s used to it since the split-up.”

  Ellen heard his voice sink at the last admission. Gently, she steered the conversation to something less painful. “Do you have any feel for a bear without eyes and what it means?”

  “I’m plumb in the dark about it,” he said, shoving the door open. “How about you? What would a shrink say?”

  “A bear could also symbolize one’s primal survival, too. Perhaps no eyes meant she couldn’t see any way to continue to survive.”

  Cochrane walked into the condo and stepped aside to allow Ellen to enter. “Interesting theories.”

  She followed him into the quiet, cool condominium. “If Susan couldn’t survive something, she may have taken her life.”

  Cochrane shut the door and placed his briefcase next to the couch. Straightening, he slowly looked around the living room. “I don’t know. The autopsy may or may not tell us if it was a murder, as we’ve said. The police called me early this morning and verified Kane’s prints on the prescription bottle. Let’s nose around, shall we?”

  “What are we looking for this time?” Ellen was glad Cochrane had finally said “we.” It meant he was accepting her as his partner. That made her feel relief. And hope.

  “Anything. Everything. I guess I’m trying to look for clues that would tell us what brought her to this point in her life.” He handed Ellen a pair of latex gloves.

  She nodded. “I can work on the living room if you want to take another room?”

  “No, we’ll do this together. We can use it as a good training opportunity.”

  Ellen nodded in approval. They started with the side table, which contained two drawers. Jim leaned down and opened them. One contained several files.

  “Here, you take care of these,” he said.

  She had put on her latex gloves and now carefully pulled out the folders. “They look like seminar or conference files to me. They’re all dated this year. This last one is from the Ares Conference in May. It was a defense seminar. Should we take them?” she asked.

  “Yes. We might be interested in Kane’s comings and goings these last couple of months. And who went with her.” He unfolded an evidence collection bag and handed it to her. “Put them in there and mark what it is on the label. We’ll take them back to the office and, when we get time, check them out.”

  Ellen tucked the files into the paper bag and set them aside. The bookcase along the wall was next.

  “Look at these titles,” she said, gesturing. “All leather-bound books.”

  “Leather is a rarity today,” Cochrane agreed. “And they’re all classic literature. Not to mention valuable.”

  Ellen pulled out Don Quixote, a dark burgundy, leather-bound book with gold lettering. She cradled it in her left hand and gently flipped through the pages. “She’s underlined some of the passages.”

  “A technique from her academic days. You know how we had to underline stuff in school,” Cochrane said.

  Ellen put the book aside and opened another. “My books are highlighted in blue, yellow and pink.” She smiled. Opening about a dozen books in turn, she carefully went through them. “There’s no underlining in these. Nothing,” she reported, looking over at Cochrane, who was going through the other bookcase book by book.

  “None?”

  “None.”

  He frowned and picked up Don Quixote again. “What do you make of that?”

  “Maybe she felt like Don Quixote? All he did was tilt at windmills and generally make a fool of himself. Everyone laughed at him and called him crazy.”

  “Sounds like how I feel sometimes,” Cochrane said wryly, sitting down on an overstuffed chair and thumbing through the book. Frowning, he looked up at her and said, “He had a companion.”

  “Sancho Panza.”

  “Exactly.” Jim held Ellen’s gaze. “Did Susan have a buddy? A good friend, I wonder? The 911 caller? Was it a relationship gone bad?”

  “A lover?”

  “Possibly. Reckon I’d give my right arm to know who the caller was on that 911 tape. Detective Gardella said no one who lived in that area saw a woman at the phone booth outside the store. Tomorrow we have to go over to personnel, get Kane’s records and set up squadron interviews regarding her death. Maybe that will turn up a clue.”

  Ellen sat down near Cochrane. “Isn’t it interesting that this is the only book so far to have passages underlined? Who were her windmills? Her enemies?”

  “What little I remember of the story,” Jim said, “is that Don Quixote was an idealist who romanticized his world. He never saw people or situations exactly as they were.”

  “He was out of touch with reality,” Ellen agreed. “I wonder if Susan felt she was out of touch with reality. And who was making fun of or shaming her?”

  “Whatever her reality was. Reckon we don’t even know that at this point.”

  “True,” Ellen said, rising and going back to the bookshelf to continue the search. “Do you think Susan’s personnel record will tell us more?”

  “Not likely, but we can hope. We’ll have to start interviewing people who knew her. That way, we can begin to get a fix on who and what she was.”

  “I think we should hold Don Quixote as evidence, Jim. If you want, I’ll go over each of those passages she underlined this afternoon. Maybe there’s a clue there.”

  “Good thinking. Who knows? Maybe you’re going to make a better investigator than I originally thought.”

  She had called him by his first name for the first time. It was a huge step toward intimacy. Ellen watched his expression for a reaction. His gray eyes had grown warm when she’d spoken his name. Her heart resp
onded by melting, and heat spread throughout her chest. Ellen felt good about taking another barrier down between them. Hope flared within her, sweet and full of promise.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  June 24

  “ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL DAY in paradise,” Ellen sighed as she got out of the government car. It was already Thursday, and the week was flying by. Every day she looked forward to working with Jim. Her world of gray was now shimmering with color. Ellen felt the shift in her heart and soul. Hope was burning steady and strong, and it caught her completely by surprise.

  “You’re an idealist, Ellen.” Cochrane gave her a jaded look.

  “To a fault,” she admitted wryly. “I don’t like the alternative.” As they walked toward a group of buildings situated on USNAS Giddings, Ellen heard and recognized two Super Hornet combat aircraft in the distance, preparing for takeoff. She had boned up on all things Navy when she was told of the coming assignment. The howl of thunder rolled across the station. She turned and stared toward the flight line. The entire Navy station seem to rumble and vibrate from the earsplitting growls as the jets hurtled down the runway and leaped into the air.

  Jim couldn’t help but smile. He wanted to make Ellen feel a part of the investigation. “Today we’re the Jim and Ellen team. Red hair. You know, red-haired women have always been hellions of the first order.” Giving her a sideward glance, he added, “And with your red hair being curly as all get-out, I think you’re right about needing to work in a loose social structure. The military isn’t your cup of tea.”

  Laughter bubbled up in Ellen as she noted his gleeful expression. Absorbing his unabashed smile and the teasing glint in his eyes, she felt the darkness continue to dissolve. “Thank you for having pity on us red-haired hellions, Jim. I’m deeply grateful.” And she was. Any lessening of tension between them was another step in the right direction, as far as she was concerned.

  Cochrane cradled her elbow and guided her into the building. “Don’t tell me you’re going to get hornswoggled by that display of raw naval aviation power and become a jet jock groupie?” Reluctantly, he released her as they entered the Top Gun facility. Much to his consternation, Jim discovered that touching Ellen was a need in him. He was fighting an attraction to her, pure and simple.

  “Give me a break, will you?” She walked at his side through the door toward administration. Her skin tingled where he’d cupped her elbow. How she looked forward to these unexpected moments of contact. “They’re human beings like us—no more and no less. They aren’t little tin gods in my book of life.”

  Just inside the polished passageway, Cochrane halted. “Good to hear that. Listen, you mosey down to personnel, identify yourself and ask for Lieutenant Kane’s file. Oh, and arrange to pick up files on these Top Gun personnel, as well.” He handed her a list that contained twelve names. “Susan Kane went to the Ares Conference with two other women—Lieutenants Jillson and Hawkins. They work here at Ops. You can get those files now. We’ll pick the others tomorrow morning. With Captain Allison wanting the ball rolling on this case, we have to move a lot faster than usual.”

  Ellen nodded. “Okay. Where are you going?”

  Cochrane opened the door. “I’m gonna amble over and make an appointment with Captain Warren Oliver. He’s the C.O. of Top Gun. I reckon I’d better clear the forthcoming interviews with his staff through him. I’ll be back.” He glanced at his watch. “Should take about ten or fifteen minutes, and we’ll meet at the car. Late tomorrow morning we’ll come back over to Ops and start the interviews.”

  “Ops?”

  “Slang for Operations. Can you stand being without me that long?”

  Ellen tilted her head. “Uh-oh. Let down some of the social structure and you’re a big tease, Lieutenant.” She saw him smile broadly. He was incredibly handsome in a devil-may-care way when he smiled. Being teased felt good, too. It meant that Jim was accepting their relationship. And if Ellen wasn’t wrong, she saw a hint of something else in his gray eyes, though she wasn’t sure what. “You’ll meet me at the car?”

  “It’s a date.” Cochrane turned and headed down the hall, his beat-up briefcase in his left hand.

  A date? Stunned by his choice of words, Ellen stared at his back as he walked confidently away from her. Jim was a lawyer and used to finessing people with the right words. “Date” was not an accident, Ellen decided as she turned on her heel and walked in the opposite direction.

  She found her way to a large office that had Personnel above the door frame. She was eager to get this case started.

  June 25

  THE OPERATIONS COMPLEX housed the meteorology division, air control operations and Top Gun facility classrooms. Cochrane and Tanner entered through the main double doors. The floors—or “decks,” Jim told her—were laid with light green tiles, which glowed from a daily waxing job by some enlisted person low on the totem pole. The stairs leading to the air control tower rose to the left.

  Ellen followed as Cochrane sauntered down a busy passageway where Navy pilots dressed in dark olive-green or bright orange flight suits jostled past. Class must have just let out. They gave the “foreigners” the once-over as if they were aliens from another planet. Ellen felt their disdain, arrogance and curiosity.

  “In here,” Cochrane said, motioning to an empty office. “I got permission from Captain Warren yesterday to use this room.” Once Ellen entered, he quietly closed the door. “We can interview the captain at 1100. It’s a mere formality, but it has to be done. When you are going to interview an entire group beneath its C.O., he or she goes through the same process even if not a suspect. Until the captain arrives, let’s start going over their personnel files, getting specifics typed into our laptop spreadsheet.”

  Ellen took a seat at a long table and removed the files from her briefcase. “Last night I was looking over the possible list of people we should interview based on the files we collected as evidence from Susan’s condo.” She glanced across the table at Cochrane, who sat down and took off his garrison cap. “At first I didn’t think those files in her drawer would be important. Goes to show you what I don’t know.” She grinned. “We got some names out of them right away.”

  “Good going. You’re not a talking head after all,” Cochrane said. “You’re doing just fine, Ellen.” He set a copy of Kane’s file before him. And yet he had trouble focusing on the case. Ellen looked so beautiful—wild, colorful and so out of place in his uniformed world of order and discipline. His heart pounded in response to the soft smile she gave him. After two years of utter darkness in his life, she was a beam of light to him, a way out of the pit he’d lived in for so long. She was something special, and he tussled inwardly with that knowledge.

  “I can help you schedule them.” Ellen brightened beneath the look of pride he gave her. It felt damn good to be appreciated by a man once more.

  “That’s fine. Jillson and Hawkins are first on our interview list. The commanding officer of station operations also gave me permission to schedule interviews directly with the individuals concerned. He just asked us to respect their duty requirements.”

  “That’s good news, too.”

  “Reckon it is. Why don’t you go out to the Ops desk and try and set up interviews with Hawkins and Jillson? This afternoon, if possible.”

  She got up. “Do you think I’m going to be given a hard time again, as I was over at personnel?” The officer in charge there hadn’t been enthusiastic about giving her all the files, but in the end he had.

  Cochrane looked up and grinned. “Wearing those rainbow-child clothes isn’t going to help you.”

  She scowled. “Just because I don’t look official doesn’t mean anything, Mr. Cochrane.”

  His smile widened and he went back to perusing Kane’s file. “Maybe if you wore a conservative suit, you might not get such stray voltage from us rigid, disciplined military types….”

  “Not a chance. They either take me as I am or tough noogies.”

  Her eyes sparkled. Sh
e truly was a wild child, Jim mused. And alluring in her own unique way. Why, he’d even woken up this morning looking forward to going to work—because he knew Ellen would be there. He chuckled. “I was wondering where your temper would show up.”

  About to exit, with her hand around the brass doorknob, Ellen turned and gave him a quick wink.

  When she left, the room fell quiet and Cochrane continued to chuckle. So the red-haired mouse wasn’t passive or sedate, after all. Of course, those colorful clothes were an indicator that Ellen was a headstrong individual. He liked discovering her different qualities. She had fire, spirit, plus she wasn’t afraid to meet him toe-to-toe.

  And he liked what he saw a lot more than he should.

  ELLEN CAME BACK twenty minutes later, flushed and triumphant. Cochrane set Kane’s record aside as she sat down with a notebook in her hands.

  “We’re in luck! Lieutenant Hawkins is a meteorologist and she’s on duty at the weather desk right now. Lieutenant Jillson is an air controller and she’s due to come off duty at 1500. I’ve set up interviews with both.”

  “Good work.” It took an effort to tear his gaze from her as she ran her fingers through those red curls.

  “What did you find out about Susan?” Ellen pointed to the personnel record in his hands. The heated look Jim gave her made her melt inwardly, but she didn’t have time to sort it out. They were under such pressure to get this case solved.

  “Pretty much what I expected. She’s got 4.0s on her Fitreps, all glowing reports on leadership skills and abilities. She’s had all kinds of recommendations, from Annapolis up to and including her present duty station.” He tapped the file thoughtfully.

  “Is that important?”

  “To get early anything is indicative that she had a sponsor—someone of much higher rank who was watching her career very carefully. Whoever it was might have orchestrated her career to a degree, giving her the opportunity to climb the ladder of success sooner rather than later, as we discussed before. In fact, Commander Dornier indicated that the CNO himself was inquiring about Susan’s death. To sum it up, Ellen, Lieutenant Kane was bright, aggressive and had the world by the tail. And a whole passel of people are shore interested in the outcome of our investigation. No doubt about it. That spells SPONSOR in capital letters.”