Silent Witness

by Lindsay McKenna

  Ellen nervously knit her fingers in her lap, unsure how to take his compliment. If it was a compliment. For the first time since her husband had died, Ellen felt an exhilarating emotion enter her heart—a giddy, spiraling sensation that left her a little breathless. Absently, she touched the center of her chest, feeling wonder that, of all people, Jim had stirred her so, made her want to start living again.

  Ellen slanted him a quick glance. Jim seemed unaware of her thoughts and feelings. Why wouldn’t he be? She wasn’t communicating and he wasn’t a mind reader.

  “Tell me about yourself, Ellen. About your growing-up years,” Cochrane urged. “How about your parents? Any brothers or sisters?”

  Pleased that he was interested, she said, “I’m the oldest daughter of three. Both my sisters are policewomen. They followed in Mom’s footsteps, while I followed in Dad’s. He used to tell us nonclassified things about his job with the FBI. I fell in love with detective work, then.” She smiled wistfully. “Growing up, I was the quiet little girl in the back of the room. Really shy at the time.” She touched her red hair. “I know you think I’m a brazen woman, but I’m not.”

  “Only around me,” Cochrane chuckled.

  “Yes, I guess you bring out that side of me,” Ellen said with a grin.

  “What got you into psychology?”

  “My parents. My mother had to take courses for her police training and I used to pore over her books at home. My dad was a natural at human psychology. I used to sit with them and ask them both questions.” She shrugged. “I guess people and their behavior have always fascinated me.”

  “Sounds like you got the therapist genes from your parents, for sure.”

  “Even now, I call them about once a week. There have been many times when I’ve asked their opinion on something that stumped me. Of course, I’d never mention the case or names, but they were always helpful, giving me information based upon their decades of experience.”

  “It sounds like you’re close with your family, too.”

  “Oh, yes. My dad loves to fish. In Minnesota we have over ten thousand lakes, and my parents built a cabin up on Rock Lake, about three hours north of Minneapolis. I went up there on weekends. I loved the quiet of the lake, of nature, and the loons that lived there. Their call is so haunting.”

  “Nature girl,” Jim said. “That’s what I had you pegged as. Not a city slicker, even though you came from D.C.”

  She absorbed his pleasure. “Give me a choice, I’ll take the country, Mr. Cochrane.”

  “I’m with you on that, gal. I found it healing to jog the rocky hills around San Diego County,” Jim confided. “When Jodi split the blanket with me, I did a lot of hiking out there, trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong.” He gave her a sad look. “The hardest thing was no longer having someone to share things with or hold in my arms at night. You get used to that stuff.”

  Touched, Ellen studied his profile. “I missed that the most after Mark died.” Opening her hands, she whispered, “I guess we’re both walking wounded of a sort. At least, that’s how I see myself. These last two years have been a special kind of hell for me. I took for granted what we had, never dreaming I’d lose Mark or our happiness so soon.”

  “Has coming here to San Diego helped or hurt?”

  “It’s helped.”

  “How?”

  “I threw myself into this project. Getting out of Washington was a godsend.” Ellen gave him a searching look. “You’re a tough taskmaster at times. I knew from the moment we met that you didn’t want me around. I felt you couldn’t trust me to do a good enough job, so I worked harder and put in longer hours to make up for my investigative deficiencies.”

  Cochrane pulled onto the freeway leading back to the heart of San Diego. The sulfur lights along the highway made huge amber splotches on the black asphalt—light against darkness. “I didn’t mean to be hard on you, Ellen. You probably don’t believe me, but that’s the truth.”

  “I do believe you,” she said.

  “I think you’re a softy at heart.” Cochrane exited off the freeway at B Street. “Being a softy isn’t all bad,” he told her. “When I was fourteen, I fell in love with a little red-haired, freckle-faced girl name Pansy. She was like you—all feelings. She used to cry at the drop of a hat over some poor bug getting smashed, or some animal being hurt. She used to cry for me….”

  Ellen didn’t want the car ride to end, but her apartment was coming up. Jim was revealing himself and she wanted to continue exploring him. “Why did she cry for you?”

  “Pansy was my first true love. I fell head over heels for that little freckled face of hers. I followed her around like a lovesick puppy. My grades slipped because when I wasn’t with her, I was up in my tree house, daydreaming about her. I didn’t do my homework, and my pa reminded me I got what I earned.”

  Jim braked the car and pulled into the pink stucco apartment complex surrounded by stately palm trees. At the entrance he parked the vehicle. Shifting, he turned toward Ellen, resting his arm across the back of the seat. “Pansy was the first to realize that I’d gotten a whipping for my failing grades after I took my report card home. She cried for me and it did something to me. Something…good and warm.”

  “That’s because she loved you,” Ellen whispered, looking up into his darkened gray eyes, so alive with feelings. She stifled an urge to touch those errant strands across his forehead.

  “I’d never had anyone cry over me before,” Cochrane said, his voice oddly off-key. He shrugged. “I saw the same look in your eyes a couple of times when I told you about my divorce problems with Jodi, or when I talked about Merry.” He reached out, his fingertips lightly touching her ponytail. “And you remind me a little of Pansy. Maybe that’s why I call you ‘gal’ when I can get away with it.”

  His stroke was electric on her unruly hair. Scalp tingling wildly, she swallowed, caught in the burning intensity of his searching gaze. Unconsciously, Ellen parted her lips, and saw longing in Jim’s eyes—the kind that made her feel desirable. Shocked by the revelation, she panicked and reached for the door handle. She had to escape the sudden emotional intensity swirling between them.

  “She had your kind of hair. Did I tell you that? Wild, frizzy curls like a red halo around her face.” Cochrane saw Ellen’s anxiety and lifted his hand away. “Pansy used to keep it in pigtails so the other kids wouldn’t tease her so much about her funny-looking hair.”

  “Naturally curly hair like ours is hard to deal with,” Ellen admitted in a small voice. Would Jim caress her again? Did she want to be touched? Her feelings were seesawing violently, and she disliked herself for being such an emotional coward. Jim didn’t deserve this.

  Swallowing hard, she asked in a low tone, “Do you think we have any kind of a future, Jim?” There, it was out. The words had been wanting to come out all night. It was so hard to be courageous in a relationship. Given their backgrounds, their jobs, could they ever make it work?

  “I’m not sure,” Jim admitted quietly. “As you know, I really didn’t want you as a partner, but as the days went by, I found myself eager to see you, to know you’d be there in the office.” His mouth pressed into a sad line as he held her gaze. “Ellen, I’m mixed up. I have this ongoing battle with Jodi over visitation rights to see Merry. I’m trying my darnedest to be there for my daughter when she needs me, but my workload these last two years has been brutal.” He lifted his hand and gently touched her hair. “And then there’s you and me. I don’t know what you think and I’m still finding out what all these unexpected discoveries mean to me and my heart. One thing’s for sure—I’m glad you’ve come into my life.”

  Ellen smiled tenderly. “Me, too. Like you, Jim, I feel like I’m betwixt and between right now. I’m leaving my grief behind. Like you, I wake up in the morning looking forward to coming to work. Part of it is because you’re there. It’s great to discover I’m not dead inside.” She touched her heart and held his hooded gaze. “I’m scared spitless, if you
want the truth—and I always want to be honest with you. The fact is I feel good. The depression I had is almost gone. It’s an amazing thing. Frankly, I didn’t expect to meet another man who would ever interest me like Mark had. And yet—” she sent Jim a lopsided smile “—here you are.”

  Running his palm tenderly along the top of her shoulder, Cochrane said in a low tone, “I’m glad to know you feel good about me being in your life. It’s mutual.” Sighing, he added, “This is complicated, Ellen.”

  “I know it is. More for you than me. Death has a finality to it. Divorce doesn’t, especially if a child is involved. I understand why you’re so torn, Jim.”

  Nodding, he frowned. “I wish things were easy and straightforward here, but they’re not.”

  “More than anything, I want you to always see your daughter and be with her whenever you can. That’s your first priority.” She saw relief in his eyes. His fingers stroked her shoulder gently, and her flesh tingled. His caress was wonderful. Her whole body cried out to be stroked like that.

  “Thanks, gal. I really needed to hear that.” Studying her in the dusky light, Cochrane said, “In the Navy we have red light for stop, orange for caution and green for go, as a way to communicate between a man and woman. Between us, which is it?”

  Shrugging, Ellen said, “A combination of orange and green?”

  He laughed softly, “Only you would combine them, gal.”

  “What about you? How do you see us, Jim?”

  His hand stilled on her shoulder. “A combination of orange and green.”

  Chuckling, she shook her head. “The pot calling the kettle black.”

  “Guilty as charged.” Jim absorbed her tender gaze. “Orange because I have so much to balance, what with work, Jodi and my daughter. Green because I’ve never been drawn to a woman like I have to you.”

  Heart fluttering, Ellen closed her eyes. “I go through such a dazzling array of emotions in any given day with you, Jim. I feel panic. Anxiety. Happiness. I feel like jumping up and down for joy. The orange is all of that. As we said before, I’m a long-term person. I like to take things slow. I want to make sure the man I’m interested in is first of all my best friend. After that, everything else can fall into a natural order between us.”

  “I’m a long-hauler, too.” Cochrane looked around as dusk began to darken to night. Returning his attention to Ellen, he added, “And I like the idea of learning to be your best friend. Maybe what we both need is time and no pressure.”

  “Yes. Definitely no pressure.” She could tell Jim wanted to kiss her. Her mouth went dry. Her heart started pounding. She felt his hand move as if to draw her against him.

  “May I kiss you, Ellen Tanner? I don’t want to pressure you or assume anything with you, gal.” Jim felt a stab of fear. What if she said no? Never had he wanted any woman to say yes more than her.

  “And if I say no, Jim?”

  He felt a pang of disappointment. “I won’t hold it against you. I’m a big boy and I’ll get over it.” He frowned, knowing that it was a outright lie. “More than anything, Ellen, I want you to be comfortable around me. I’m trying to learn from my past mistakes, and God knows I made a ton of ’em. I don’t want to make them with you if I can help it.” That was the truth. The words came out low and filled with emotion.

  “It makes all the sense in the world, Jim. Thanks for sharing all of this. It helps me sort things out in myself when you level with me like this.”

  “Thank Jodi for this ‘new me,’” he said sadly.

  For a man who was so deeply wounded, showing his vulnerability was the greatest gift he could give her. Ellen slid toward him and put her hand against his whiskery jaw. “Kiss me?”

  “Gal, you are one surprise after another….” he whispered, lowering his head toward hers.

  Closing her eyes, Ellen felt Jim’s mouth ease tentatively against hers. His breath was warm against her skin, his hands coming up to frame her face. His long fingers were gentle as he captured her head and raised her chin slightly so he could fit his mouth fully against her parting lips. Whispering his name like a prayer, Ellen sank against his tall, lean body. She could feel his heart thundering against her breasts.

  His fingertips brushed her temples, and the heat of his mouth created a conflagration within her body. Her breasts tightening against his chest, Ellen moaned softly. When one of his hands trailed down her jawline in a featherlight caress, she felt tears well in her closed eyes. Everything about Jim Cochrane was gentle and worshipping. In that moment, Ellen felt herself hungry with desire. His mouth was strong, cajoling, and yet allowing her to respond freely. She inhaled the fragrance of the lime aftershave on his skin, felt the prickle of stubble against her cheek and reveled in his heated breath against her flesh.

  Ellen had no idea how long Cochrane kissed her, but she wanted it to go on forever. Reluctantly, she felt him ease her away from him. There was an anguished look on his face. She sat up and touched her throbbing lips, and realized her own pain was about desire—for him. It hit her and then dissolved like beads of dappled sunlight into her hungry body. “Wow,” she whispered. “What a kiss.”

  Reaching out, Cochrane tunneled his fingers through her curly red hair. “I can say the same, gal. You knocked me into another universe with that kiss of yours.” He smiled shyly.

  Jim’s reverent touch made Ellen feel as if she were the most precious woman on earth. Closing her eyes, she absorbed his lingering caress. “You are…wonderful.”

  “So are you, gal. And we have time.”

  She opened her eyes and nodded. “Yes, we have time. Thank you, Jim, for everything. You make me want to live again.” Ellen saw his expression lighten, saw joy sparkle in his stormy eyes. There was no question that he would take her to bed if she asked. The thought was frightening. Heady. Alluring. But Ellen wasn’t ready for that yet.

  “Listen, you’d better get going. We’ve got a long day ahead of us come the morrow. It’s not going to be an easy one.”

  Ellen nodded and opened the car door. Happiness vaulted through her as she turned and caught his look. Cochrane’s face was alive with tenderness aimed directly at her. Tonight, they’d turned a corner with one another—and it was mutual. That was as scary as it was exhilarating. “I know it won’t be. Thanks for the pizza, Jim. It was fun.”

  “Yeah, it was, wasn’t it? We’ll do it again sometime soon, gal. Good night.”

  Climbing out of the car on suddenly weak legs, Ellen replied, “Good night.” She almost turned and invited him into her apartment. Overheated and restless, her body clamored for union. Ellen knew he’d be a wonderful, caring lover. Exactly what she desired. Swallowing, she lifted her hand and stepped away from the car. It wasn’t the right time. Not yet.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ON TUESDAY MORNING, Ellen arrived right on time at the office. She was surprised to see Commander Dornier there, wanting an update from Jim on the Kane investigation. Ellen said good morning to both men and then settled down to business. She obviously couldn’t mention the beautiful, tender kiss they’d shared last evening. If Jim only knew how she’d tossed and turned all night.

  As she gathered items for their forthcoming interviews at Giddings, the fatigue hit her hard. Before falling into an exhausted sleep at 3:00 a.m., Ellen had come to the conclusion that she’d have to have blind faith in the future where Jim was concerned. And if his quick, welcoming glance today was any indication, he’d gotten the same amount of sleep as she had.

  Commander Dornier didn’t leave until Jim stood up, peered at his watch and told him they had to get to Giddings. After asking her to drive, Jim got on the radio with NCIS people regarding other investigations under their wing. No personal talk today. Ellen resigned herself and mentally prepared for another grueling day of interviews.

  ELLEN EASED HER SANDALS off her feet after Becky Jillson had left. The office was quiet except for Cochrane’s hen-pecking on the computer keys. It was nearly noon, and she was famished. She plac
ed her hand on her stomach to try and muffle the growling.

  Cochrane looked up and gave her an elfin grin. “Is the big bad mama bear starving for lunch?” How badly he’d wanted to discuss the kiss they’d shared last night. There hadn’t been time, and he found himself frustrated by the continuous string of interviews they had to conduct.

  Laughing, Ellen slowly stood up and slid her fingers down her spine to ease the tension from sitting so long. “Yes, I guess I’m hungry.” She ached to lean over and caress his hand. Under the circumstances, it was impossible. If they were ever seen during work hours “consorting” in a personal way, Ellen knew they’d be split up and she’d be sent back to Washington. That was enough to make her squelch her longing. She was going to have to be patient.

  “You just can’t keep a secret,” he chuckled, typing up some final notes from their last interview. Lieutenant Becky Jillson had given them a lot of info.

  “No, certainly not compared to Susan Kane. Now, there’s a real secret-keeper.” Ellen watched him highlight certain parts of Jillson’s report. “What do you make of Becky’s statement? She thinks Susan was implicated in something at Ares. And how about the fact that Becky saw those red marks on Susan’s wrist when she visited her in the hotel room? Now that’s something new.”

  “Reckon it could be inflammatory as hell. Although it offers nothing concrete on Michelson, Bassett or Hodges.” Jim could smell the faint scent of the gardenia perfume Ellen wore. He inhaled it hungrily.

  “Ann Hawkins fingered them.”

  “But she’s not willing to flush her career down the commode to have them charged but not found guilty, either.” Cochrane shook his head. “We’ll need better evidence to prosecute any of those bastards. Someone else will have to break the code.”

  “Becky didn’t seem too worried about reprisals. She gave us full testimony about what went on at Ares.” Ellen kept her hands at her sides. She wanted to rest them on Jim’s broad, proud shoulders.