Silent Witness

by Lindsay McKenna

  “You must be the investigators?” Tommy croaked.

  “Yes,” she said gently, and introduced herself and Jim.

  He grimaced and stepped aside. “Come on in.”

  The man’s hotel room was a far cry from the others. Ellen could smell the distinct, nose-wrinkling odor of whiskey even before she spotted an open bottle on a small, round table in the corner. Kane’s cloth suitcase was open, the uniform he’d worn to the funeral, thrown haphazardly across the bed. Tissues littered the floor around the wastebasket.

  Kane passed her on the way to the noisy television set, gave her an apologetic look and turned it off. He set the shot glass on the table and pulled up chairs so they all could sit down. As if realizing his disheveled condition, he pushed his long fingers through his short hair to tame it into place.

  Ellen thanked him for pulling out her chair. There was none of the family coldness in Tommy Kane. She was struck by how much he looked like Susan, and wondered if they both took after their mother. Brad Kane certainly favored their father in looks, manners and attitude.

  “Sorry for the mess,” Tommy muttered, going over to the bed to jam his dress whites into the suitcase and then drop the lid.

  Ellen saw the uncertainty in his eyes and felt the barrage of emotions he barely held in check. His face was flushed and his eyes remained suspiciously bright. What a contrast between family members. According to his personnel record, he was due to get his lieutenant commander’s leaves next month.

  “I’m sorry we have to conduct this interview so soon after Susan’s funeral,” she began softly, holding his gaze. “We’ll try to make it as painless as possible, Lieutenant Kane.” She asked Jim to turn on the tape recorder.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “Call me Tommy. Everybody else does.” He waved his hand in a helpless gesture. “And I’m glad you came. Do you know how Susan died?” He hesitated. “My father, the captain, says it was suicide, but I don’t know whether I believe that or not. I got word on my carrier, The Nimitz, that she was found dead in her condo. No cause was given. I just couldn’t believe it.” He searched their faces earnestly for answers.

  Ellen swallowed hard. “She died of an overdose of sleeping pills, Tommy. We don’t know if her death was the result of suicide or a homicide. We’re interviewing people who were close to her to try and find out more, but so far, we have very little to go on.”

  He gave them a stricken look. “I just don’t understand. God, I don’t….” He stared at them. “If Susan was in trouble, why didn’t she try to get ahold of me? Or someone?” He clasped his hands together. “You don’t have any leads?”

  Cochrane shook his head. “No, that’s why we’re checking with the family first. There’s no indication, thus far, of anything gone wrong in Susan’s life. But something must have.”

  “Susan was doing great! She had everything she wanted.” Tommy shook his head and stood, shoving the chair away from the table. He moved jerkily to his well-worn suitcase, threw the lid open again and rummaged around for a full minute before he found what he was looking for. “Here,” he said urgently, dropping a couple sheets of paper on the table. “It’s her last letter to me. She sent along forty-eight photos from the Ares Defense Contractor’s Conference she’d attended in May. Susan always sent me photos and info from the seminars she goes to because I can’t make a lot of them, being on sea duty.”

  Cochrane reached for the packet of photos. “Mind if we take them for evidence?”

  “No, not at all. She always sends—I mean, sent me photos. I don’t know what good they’ll be to you, though.”

  “We’d like to look at them in any case,” Cochrane said. He wrote “ARES” on the outside of the envelope and placed the photos in his briefcase. Then he opened the letter and began to read, handing the sheets he finished to Ellen, one at a time.

  Ellen read the handwritten letter.

  Hi, Tommy,

  I’m sure looking forward to seeing you when you come off sea duty! Are we still on?

  Work is going okay for me, but I’m having some trouble with three of the instructors at Top Gun. You know the old saying, a few bad apples will spoil the barrel? They’ve got it in for me, always playing nasty practical jokes that really aren’t meant to be jokes at all. It’s their way of telling me I’m not welcome in the Men’s House. Tough. I get so mad sometimes, but I tell myself that if I lose my cool, I’ll be as bad as them. I’m not going to sink to that level. Without the flying, and the other instructors, who are wonderful, this Top Gun School assignment would be the pits.

  The Ares Conference pictures are included. I have more to send you later, and they are inflammatory. This conference made my gut clench. There’s a real need for change in the Navy Air community. Someone’s got to get these guys—post-Tailhook idiots who didn’t get the message when it happened in ’92—out of these conferences. You’re lucky you weren’t there. I’m still collecting photos from other people who attended, because I didn’t take many shots myself. You won’t believe it, but I can share them with you and they won’t go anywhere. If all conferences were like this one, I’d stop going, but it’s the exception, not the rule.

  Listen, I gotta run. Got a ton of paperwork to prepare for my next class. Call the ball on that Super Hornet of yours and get back here safe and sound, huh? I love you, bro. See you soon!

  Susan

  Ellen looked up at Tommy and then over at Jim. “This letter wasn’t written by someone wanting to commit suicide.”

  “No,” Tommy whispered, a catch in his voice, “it wasn’t.”

  “We’d like to keep the letter for a while.” She handed the pages back across the table to Jim. “Tommy, did Susan ever mention the names of those three aviators who were giving her problems?”

  He shook his head. “One thing you don’t do in this man’s Navy is name names, Agent Tanner. Never say anything you wouldn’t put in writing, and never put anything in writing. We both know that little caveat.” He pointed to the letter. “That’s why she didn’t name them there. If anyone other than me had read the letter, the grapevine could get the word back to them. The air community is small and everyone knows everyone else’s business. If you have a problem, you solve it in-house.”

  “Do you suspect who the three were, Lieutenant?”

  “No, I don’t.” He sighed and looked down at his hands. “Ever since Tailhook happened in the early nineties, the aviation community has really tried to make amends and get things on an equal footing for women pilots. There are pockets of resistance, though, even now.” He pointed to the pack of photos. “And there’s some pretty incriminating evidence of what went on at the Ares Conference. I can see why my sister was upset. Plus, she said there were more photos to come, but I never got them.”

  “Are you aware of any incident involving her outside of what’s mentioned in her letter? Did she e-mail you later, perhaps? Phone you about it?” Ellen asked.

  He shrugged helplessly. “No, nothing. Like I said, some of those photos are pretty provocative. No names, just the actions taking place. But if she was collecting other raunchy photos, I don’t have them.”

  “I’m going to cross my fingers they’re in that file in the office.” Ellen frowned. “You could help us in a roundabout way by telling us a little about your family life, and your growing-up years. You’re not obligated to do so, just if you’d like to share. It would help us understand Susan a little better. Were you close to her?”

  Tommy smiled and relaxed. “Yeah, we still are—I mean—were close.”

  “Was Susan close to Brad?”

  “No, he was the oldest and saddled with the two of us underlings.” With a shake of his head, Tommy said, “The captain hated Susan. My God, to this very day I’ll never understand his reaching such a warped conclusion about her. She wanted so much to have Dad love her.”

  “How did that affect Susan growing up?” Ellen murmured.

  Tommy lifted his face to the ceiling, sniffing and fighting back f
resh tears. “Susan was a good person and she tried so hard to do everything right—even perfect. That way, she stayed out of trouble. The captain had weekly inspections when he was home, and he made it clear it was up to Susan to make sure all our bedrooms were white glove clean.”

  “Where was Georgia in all this?” Ellen demanded.

  “Georgia…” His mouth pulled into a twisted line. “I shouldn’t speak ill of her now because she’s dead, but she was a piece of work, let me tell you. A real shark of a Southern belle with a nose for rank. She married the captain when she was twenty years old.” Tommy sobered a little. “I’ll give Susan this—as much as she was picked on by our parents, she never broke. She was tough and had a backbone of steel. And God knows, Susan was the scapegoat for everything. In the end, I think it just made her stronger, more determined to reach her goals.”

  “Did Susan ever have a significant other?” Cochrane asked.

  Tommy nodded and sat back down. “Susan was pretty. She was the class president four years running, at two different high schools. She was smart, popular, and everyone liked her. Tons of guys wanted to date her, but the captain wouldn’t allow it.”

  “That’s terrible,” Ellen said with disgust.

  “Yeah, tell me about it. We boys were allowed to have girlfriends. I don’t know how many times Susan lay on her bed on Friday nights and cried because the captain forbade her to go to school dances. She was glad to get out of the house when she was eighteen.”

  Ellen compressed her lips when she saw Cochrane draw out the photo of Susan from his shirt pocket. He handed it to her and she swallowed hard. “Tommy, what can you tell us about Susan’s teddy bear?”

  The man’s face crumpled and tears filled his eyes.

  “We have a photo of Susan the day she died, and she’s holding the bear. Try and prepare yourself to look at this photo, if you want. You don’t have to,” she said, handing the photo to Tommy.

  He inhaled sharply, his gaze pinned to the picture. “Oh, God…” He pushed the print back toward Ellen. Pressing his hands against his eyes, he turned away. “Oh, God…”

  Ellen went over to him, slid her hand across his back and felt him trembling. “I’m sorry,” she soothed, patting him gently. “So sorry…”

  Cochrane went over to the minibar and returned with the same bottle of whiskey that Kane had been drinking out of. After sloshing the contents into the water glass, he thrust it into the aviator’s hand. “Reckon you might want a drink of this.”

  Tommy nodded, pressed the tumbler to his lips and gulped down the liquid. He handed the tumbler back to Cochrane and nodded in thanks.

  Ellen felt Tommy’s sorrow as though it were her own. It brought back the clear, cutting pain from the untimely death of her husband. Fighting her own tears, she walked back to the table and sat down to wait until Tommy could get hold of his emotions.

  At last, wiping his flushed cheeks, Tommy said, “I’m a mess. I’m never like this, never. I’m sorry. It’s just that I loved Susan so much and I can’t believe she’s dead. I just can’t believe it….” He covered his face with his hands.

  To Ellen’s complete surprise, Jim came over to stand by her. He placed his hand on her shoulder for just a moment, as if to communicate that he saw her pain and wanted to comfort her. Stunned by his unexpected gesture, she twisted to look up at him, and saw raw anguish in his eyes. Maybe he had never experienced a loved one’s death, but in her mind, divorce was akin to it. In his own way he understood, or at least by his gesture, he was trying to reach out to her. Tears jammed into Ellen’s eyes and she had to look away. All she wanted to do was throw herself in his arms and feel his protective embrace.

  The silence was no longer strained, just pregnant with feeling. Ellen was glad that Jim remained near her, a silent gesture of support. It was enough. Tommy Kane had touched them both, as had the story of Susan’s traumatic upbringing. Susan had been a good person caught in a bad situation. But what had tipped that precarious balance Susan had always maintained? What?

  Tommy cleared his throat and when he spoke, his voice was rough. “That teddy bear was a gift from our mother to Susan. We moved every two years to a new station, so we lost a lot of school friends, and I think it was hardest on Susan. Even as a baby, she knew that teddy bear was from Mama. I swear she did, because if Georgia put the bear in the crib with her, she’d stop crying immediately. Every time. When Susan was old enough to walk, that bear went everywhere with her. The captain tried to shame her out of carrying it around, but she wouldn’t give it up. Susan would jut out that little chin of hers and stare up at him defiantly, holding on to that little fella even more tightly.”

  Wiping his eyes, Tommy sat up straight and gave them a wobbly smile.

  “I see,” Ellen murmured.

  “Where is her bear?” Tommy suddenly asked.

  “The police are keeping it as evidence, for now,” Cochrane answered.

  He nodded. “When they’re done with it, could you send it to me?” His voice cracked. “Please?”

  “Normally, most effects go to the parents,” Cochrane said.

  “The captain will throw it away.” He rubbed his hands slowly up and down his thighs. “I’ll keep it. Maybe, someday, when I have a family of my own, I can give it to my daughter.” He looked searchingly at them. “That bear means a lot to me.”

  “We’ll make sure you get it,” Cochrane promised.

  “Susan stayed in close touch with me. Always. I—I just can’t figure this out. Anytime she had problems, she’d write or e-mail me if I was on carrier duty, or call me if I was based at a station.”

  “What kind of problems?” Ellen inquired.

  “Three years ago Susan fell in love with a naval aviator who was married. Lieutenant Commander Todd Weston. The dude was on temporary duty, assigned to her squadron for four months. During the romance she didn’t know he was married, and when she found out, she broke off the relationship. She was devastated and embarrassed. This guy was a real manipulative bastard. He talked about Susan to some of the other fighter jocks, and it became a real mess. Susan almost resigned her commission because some of the squadron lowlifes plagued her about the affair. It hurt her career and her name. She put in a request for a transfer, and that’s how she got the Top Gun assignment. Someone looked out for her interests and she was transferred here. I don’t think she ever got over the humiliation of being suckered in. It really burned her bad.”

  “What happened to the lieutenant commander?” Ellen asked.

  “He returned to his original squadron, acting like a happily married man. Of course, you know it’s always the woman’s fault,” Tommy said.

  “So, she did have one serious relationship,” Cochrane interjected, changing the direction of the conversation.

  “Susan wasn’t very adept at male-female relationships,” Tommy told them. “She never got any ‘training,’ if you will, during her growing-up years, mostly because the captain wouldn’t allow her to date. I think he was afraid of her getting pregnant out of wedlock, and the effect it would have on his career. She just didn’t understand the personal side of guys. How could she?”

  “Did she have someone special here at Giddings?” Cochrane asked.

  “Not that I know of. After that debacle at the other station, Susan was staying away from the aviation jocks like poison. Weston got even—he had some photos of her in a bathing suit that he’d taken at the beach. He had copies made and passed them around to every jock that wanted one. Plus he put them on the Internet for a time, until Susan hired an attorney and the guy took them off his Web site.”

  With a sigh, Ellen looked up at Jim. “I think we’ve got what we need.”

  Tommy said, “My sister was a good person, Agent Tanner. Please, find out what happened. Why did she die? Why?”

  “We’ll find out,” Cochrane told him, determination in his tone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  June 28

  ONCE THEY ARRIVED AT the Embassy Suites, Ji
m braked the car and looked over at Ellen. The day had been pure hell and he needed her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “You did a good job today. Those weren’t easy interviews.” Touching her helped him. He saw tenderness shining in her eyes, and it made him feel better about their rotten day.

  Ellen’s heart galloped. Jim’s eyes were soft and dusky and full of promise. His fingers lingered and then began caressing her shoulder. Ellen absorbed his caress as if she was starving. She wanted him to stay here with her. She wanted to turn and face Jim—and then what? Anxiety riffled through her. No. She had to get away from him in order to think clearly. Of course, he wasn’t trying to confuse her, but he didn’t realize how vulnerable she was, especially with this case they were investigating. With shaking hands, she gathered up her notes and briefcase. “I’m glad I could help.”

  Reluctantly, Cochrane lifted his hand away. His heart sank when he noted the anxious look in her eyes. Perhaps he’d overstepped his bounds with her. But somehow, Ellen’s presence opened him up, and he was acting in a way he never had before. Clearing his throat by way of apology, he rasped, “You did a hell of a good job of interviewing Tommy. I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks, Jim. That means a lot to me.”

  He didn’t want her to leave just yet. “Tell me about yourself? We’ve got a few minutes.” Seeing the surprise in her eyes, he added, “Were you a wild redhead growing up?”

  Sitting back, Ellen laughed. “My parents were in law enforcement, so I was a good little kid, contrary to what you might think about red hair.” She drowned in his hungry gaze and her spirits lifted. “I lived in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I come from German and Irish stock, and according to my mother, who’s still a police officer, I’m stubborn as all get-out.”

  “Stubbornness can be good,” Jim said. “Especially on an investigation where you can’t give up. You have to finish it.” He smiled over at her. “How did you become an analyst?”

  “I love people. I have forever been curious as to why they act and react the way they do. Even as a teenager, I was fascinated with people and how they dealt with life.”