Silent Witness

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Oww!” The nail on her index finger snapped and broke, a piece of it flying onto the green-and-white-tile floor. “Darn,” Ellen muttered, looking at the ragged nail. She’d broken it down to the flesh and a small drop of blood oozed out. Sucking on the injured finger, Ellen reached with her other hand to try and ease the gray book from the box.

  “Come on,” she muttered, struggling to get a firm hold. Whoever had packed this box had crammed it too tightly. NCIS personnel certainly wouldn’t make good movers. There! Ellen held the gray book in the palm of her left hand. A smile touched her mouth.

  “The Little Red Bear…” Oddly, the book had been recovered in a plain gray paper jacket. Ellen set the book in her lap to leaf through its pages. As she opened the front cover she saw printed in huge, shaky letters “SUSIE.” The last name was covered by the gray paper, so Ellen eased the book out of the cover to get a full view of the name. SUSIE KANE. The book was very old, obviously much read and loved.

  The pages were dog-eared from age as well as use. Susan had probably pulled this book from the shelf and read it to Daily’s children when they had visited Top Gun. Commander Daily told her that groups of school children would come to Top Gun and it was always Susan who took the awed students through the facility. Ellen’s eyes teared up again as she realized that the remnants of Susan’s life would be shipped to her father. Ellen could only guess what he would do with these boxes. He’d destroy them immediately, not wanting to be reminded of his badly behaved daughter who had brought only shame to the family’s good name. Out of sight, out of mind.

  As Ellen turned to pick up the book’s gray covering, something caught her eye. She wondered why she hadn’t seen it before, but she’d been entranced with discovering one of Susan’s own books. The gray covering was much too large for such a small book, so it had been neatly reshaped, leaving a two-inch double fold on the inside front and back. The object that had caught Ellen’s attention was tucked into the back.

  It was a digital photo. Ellen put the book aside and reached for the cover. The picture was taped to the jacket so it wouldn’t accidentally fall out.

  Devoting her attention to getting it loose, Ellen eased the tape from first one edge, then another. When all the adhesive was removed, she turned the photo over.

  “Oh, my God!” Her heart slammed into her rib cage and fluttered wildly in her breast. Her fingers tightened on the print as she stared down at it in horror.

  Ellen leaped out of the chair, tore around the desk and jerked the door open. Luckily, classes had let out for the day and very few aviators seemed to be left in the facility. She quickly locked the door, even though her knapsack was still inside. Ellen ran, winded, clutching the photo.

  “Jim!” Her voice carried down the passageway as she turned the corner. “Jim! Wait!” He was just leaving the room where they’d done the interviewing.

  He halted, a puzzled look on his face as she came racing up to him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Ellen gulped for breath. “Come back inside the office! You have to see this, Jim! You have to…”

  “Ellen, I’ll be late picking Merry up.”

  “This can’t wait!” Ellen grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back into the interviewing room. She shut the door firmly, resting her back against it. “Here, look at what I just found.” Breathing raggedly, she tried to catch her breath as she thrust the digital photo toward him. “You aren’t going to believe this. I’m not sure I do.”

  Scowling, Cochrane set his heavy briefcase on the floor and took the photo. As he straightened, his eyes narrowed.

  “Jesus H. Christ,” he exclaimed.

  “It is her, isn’t it?” Ellen whispered off-key. She saw Cochrane’s brows draw down, his eyes become slits. “I thought I was seeing things, Jim. The picture was taped inside a book jacket—a book from her childhood. I—I didn’t see the photo until I was going to put the cover back on the book.” With trembling fingers she pushed her hair from her brow.

  She cautiously edged around Cochrane’s shoulder and looked at the photo again. It was of Susan Kane, naked from the waist up, sprawled out on a king-size bed. A bedcover was pulled up to her hips.

  “Oh, my God,” Ellen whispered, pressing her hand to her heart. “This is awful. Awful!”

  Cochrane cursed and dropped the photo on the desk. “Dammit, we may have just destroyed any possible prints on this photo, Ellen.” Putting his hands on his hips, he leaned closer and inspected it. “But it’s pretty shocking, isn’t it?”

  Ellen swallowed hard. “I don’t want to believe it, Jim. I really don’t. Yet there she is.”

  “I’d give anything to know where this was taken.” With a shake of his head, he said, “Just goes to show you, you don’t really know anyone, do you?”

  Trying to steady her pounding heart, Ellen shook her head. “I find this unbelievable, totally unlike the Susan Kane we know.”

  “We can’t be naive. This type of stuff goes on all the time.”

  She colored fiercely. “It’s just that Susan didn’t seem like the exhibitionist type.”

  “Yeah. Miss Perfect. Goody Two-shoes.”

  “Jim!”

  He straightened and looked over at Ellen. “This photo is pretty damn graphic, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes—it is, but—” she stabbed her finger at it “—look at Susan’s face.”

  “Her eyes are barely open. She knows what she’s doing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Jim smiled a little. “Reckon you’re awfully indignant about this, Ellen.”

  “There are explanations other than the obvious one you seem to be endorsing.”

  “Such as?”

  Ellen felt heat crawling into her face. “I’m not pretending to be an investigator like you, Jim, but my question would be was Susan a willing or forced participant in this?”

  “She looks dazed,” Jim admitted, studying the photo closer. “Probably been drinking too much.”

  “According to everything we know about her, Susan didn’t drink.”

  “Maybe she’s high on drugs.”

  “Jim, you’re a pain in the ass sometimes!”

  “So humor me. Who took this photo, then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And why did they take it?” Jim scratched his head. “And how long ago? And why was it taped inside a book jacket?”

  Ellen sat down, resting her arms near the photo and studying it. “Wait, look at this.”

  Jim leaned forward. “What?”

  “The bedspread! Don’t you recognize the pattern of it?”

  “No,” he said, “of course I don’t.”

  Ellen made an exasperated sound. “That’s the bedspread design at the Barstow Hotel in Reno, where the Ares Conference took place. The brochure we have from the hotel shows a color photo of one of their rooms, and this is the bedspread on the bed.”

  “Consarnit, I’m going to be late picking up Merry. Hold on while I make a phone call. Don’t touch that photo anymore. Maybe we can still get a partial print from it.”

  Ellen straightened. “Darn, I forgot to put on my latex gloves. I’m so sorry. You taught me to always put them on before touching evidence.” She withdrew her hands, feeling guilty over her mistake.

  Cochrane dashed out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

  Ellen got up and shut the door to keep out prying eyes. When Cochrane returned ten minutes later, he looked thoroughly agitated.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Jodi wasn’t too happy about adjusting plans. I tried to explain to her—oh, hell, never mind.” He closed the door and hurriedly moved to his side of the desk, the photo between them. “I’ve been thinking. Look at what’s holding her wrists to that bed. White web belts. Military gear.”

  “Yes, I saw that, too. But look closely at her right wrist.”

  Leaning over the photo, Jim squinted. “It’s pretty red and raw looking.”

  “Precisely. Just like
Jillson told us earlier today. When she visited Susan in her hotel room, she saw these marks. This was no ‘flu’ episode. Maybe Jillson accepted Susan’s explanation, but I sure don’t know. My hunch is that this photo was taken sometime on May 16th, at the Ares Conference.”

  Sitting down, Cochrane nodded. “But were the red marks on her wrist from struggling to get free or just part of the normal bondage lovemaking she took part in?”

  “That’s a disgusting suggestion.”

  “Ellen, from a professional standpoint this photo neither confirms or denies Susan Kane’s participation in this. For all we know, she did this kind of thing on a regular basis.”

  “Or Susan was coerced,” Ellen said flatly, anger in her tone.

  “But how do we know?”

  She stared at him. “We probably know more about Susan than anyone, and you can sit there and say that she’d willingly do that kind of thing?” Ellen just couldn’t believe it of the dead aviator.

  Holding up his hands, Cochrane said, “Whoa, Ellen. From an investigative point of view we can’t deduce one way or another, because we don’t have any corroborating evidence. If there is a fingerprint on this photo that hasn’t been destroyed by us, it might give us a lead.”

  “I just can’t believe Susan would do this kind of stuff.”

  “Kinky sex. How about that?” Jim shook his head. “That would sure as hell blow her role model image right out of the water if it were made known.”

  Frowning, Ellen muttered, “That crossed my mind, too. What if Susan got drunk and did do it? Did someone take this photo to embarrass her maybe?”

  “Blackmail would be more like it.”

  Ellen wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, what dirty little secrets are held by the Navy if that’s so, huh?”

  Grimly, Cochrane said, “The military is comprised of human beings who, just like the civilian population, are capable of things I reckon I’d never even think of. Or could be a civilian episode and have nothing to do with the military. We just don’t know yet.”

  “I can see why your work would be such a downer. I’m feeling horrible about this photo, what it will do to Susan’s wonderful career, her reputation.”

  “First things first,” Cochrane cautioned. “I reckon we’re going to have to thoroughly search Kane’s office again. NCIS dropped the ball. They should have found this during their search. We’ll take everything we find down to the JAG lab for fingerprint analysis.”

  “Maybe NCIS thought that since Susan’s death took place off the naval station, they didn’t have to do a thorough job?”

  “I’d hope not. All of us were sloppy, pure and simple.” He retrieved a latex glove from his briefcase and slipped it on his right hand. “When the JAG lab does a complete analysis of this photo, I’d sure as hell like to find a set of prints of someone other than ours or Susan’s on it.”

  “We needed a break on this investigation, but I’m not sure I like this one,” Ellen agreed wearily.

  Jim reached out and squeezed her hand. He saw the stress in her green eyes. Knowing she was on Susan’s side, he said, “Take it easy, gal. This is your first investigation and you’re getting too personally involved.” Releasing her hand, he added, “So am I, but I’m trying to stay impartial.”

  “Thanks for telling me that,” she whispered, feeling deflated. Pushing her hair off her forehead again, she gave Jim a hopeful look. “Do you think JAG forensics will find fingerprints on the photo other than mine?”

  “I don’t know. On the way to the office tomorrow morning, I’ll drop this off at the lab. After that, it’s hurry up and wait.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  July 12

  ELLEN WAS RUNNING LATE on Thursday morning. She arrived at the office at 0915, a frothy mocha latte in one hand and a large paper evidence bag containing Susan Kane’s bear in the other. She set the bag on top of the file cabinet and turned to Jim. His eyes were bloodshot. Fatigue shadowed his features. And yet he’d taken the time to shave, since he still had a small piece of tissue lodged against a cut.

  “You look like something the cat dragged in,” she said as she sat next to him and placed the latte aside. “Sorry I’m late.” Ellen wondered if he was still tossing and turning because of their kiss. Last night she’d slept deeply, then dreamed of making love with Jim. That had awakened her too early, her body aching for him. Her heart, as well.

  “Hmm? Reckon I do.”

  “Matter of fact,” Ellen said, putting her knapsack on the desk, “you still have some evidence of your shaving left behind.”

  Cochrane lifted his head. “What?”

  “Hold still for a moment.” She gently pulled the paper away. “There.” She got up and dropped the tissue in the wastebasket.

  Rubbing his throat, Cochrane said, “Thanks.” Ellen’s contact electrified him. Made him want her so badly his body was twisted into a knot. The woman had a caress that magically awakened him. Lately, he was thinking more about her than the case.

  “I can’t take you anywhere, Mr. Cochrane,” Ellen teased. She sat back down and rearranged her dark green cotton skirt. “What did you do? Work at the JAG office last night, after I left?”

  He glanced down at his uniform. “Does it show?” He grinned tiredly.

  “I’m afraid it does.”

  “Consarnit.” He gathered up a bunch of papers next to the printer. “That photo really broke loose a lot of questions in my mind. I decided to take it over to the JAG lab after you left. Everyone was gone except for the skeleton night crew. After that, I drove over and apologized to Jodi for not picking up Merry when it was my turn. Then I went home. I’d no sooner stepped into my apartment than I got another call from that captain who works with the CNO. He told me in no uncertain terms they’re watching Kane’s case very carefully.” Cochrane picked up his coffee and took a sip. “I got the message to stick on this case like glue. I’m sure now that Susan Kane had a sponsor. Probably the CNO himself, if I’m not mistaken. The captain never would have said so, and I wouldn’t ask, either. It was implied.” He frowned. “It shows how important this case is to the Navy. So I thought I’d spend more time on it here in the office.” He grimaced. “At about 0500, I went back to the apartment, took a shower, shaved and came back over.”

  Ellen gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s tough balancing a job like this against a family’s needs.”

  “I’m trying to be a better father to Merry. See her more often, not less.” Jim brightened a little. “At least Jodi didn’t light into me this time. She forgave me, and that’s good.”

  “A juggling act, for sure, Jim,” Ellen murmured understandingly. She saw how he fiercely loved his daughter. And maybe that was why the Kane case was so important to him. “What’s your take on Susan Kane now that you’ve had a chance to think about it overnight?” Ellen herself felt protective of the female aviator.

  “Just because Kane was having kinky sex with someone at the Barstow Hotel during the convention doesn’t mean we enter the details into the computer and have it open conversation throughout the Navy. And I made no mention of it to that CNO assistant captain, either.”

  “For Susan’s sake, I’m glad.” Ellen breathed a sigh of relief. “Can we keep that photo out of the investigation?”

  “We’re the caretakers of that picture and only we will decide who gets to see it. There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’ll enter it into any records unless, of course, it has something to do directly with the investigation. Chief Hazzard called me before you arrived, by the way. Besides our prints, he found only a partial print of Susan Kane and another one that’s too smeared to identify. And don’t worry, the chief can be trusted to keep quiet. He’s from the hills, like me, and we have an honor code we don’t break.”

  “That’s sad about the fingerprints. Darn it,” Ellen muttered.

  “On a more positive note, I called Lieutenant Morgan again by satellite phone last night. He has informally identified Susan Kane as the woman in the elevator with
our unknown man.”

  “That’s great!”

  “Informally identified.” Jim smiled a little. “Baby steps. There are still some puzzle pieces missing.”

  “Right now, I’ll settle for any step forward.” Ellen saw him give her a wink. Oh, how she wanted to reach out and touch his hand. Hug him, maybe. Decorum was the order of the day, however, so she stifled her wild urges once again.

  Cochrane scratched his head. “That opens up a lot of questions or possibilities to us now.”

  “Such as what?”

  Picking up a pencil, Cochrane twirled it absently. “Such as where did Susan go when she left Jillson and Hawkins at approximately 1930? She was next seen at 2230 on the patio, then at 2300 on the elevator, by Morgan. Bassett places her drunk on that patio at 2200, and he’s probably lying. Susan was seen by her two friends in her hotel room at 0900 the next morning. Somewhere in between, the photo incident took place.”

  “And if this was a forced act, why didn’t Susan go to the authorities or the police? Where else could she have gone to lodge her protest?”

  He snapped his fingers and sat up in the chair. “Gem of a question, Ellen. That may be the clue we’re poking around for.”

  She felt heat climb into her face and noticed the dancing light in his eyes. There was a clear intensity in his gaze and she enjoyed seeing it. “Okay, out with it. What clue did I just uncover?”

  “Chain of command. That’s where Susan went.”

  “Captain Warren Oliver! The C.O. of Giddings?”

  “No, no.” Cochrane shook his head. “Who was the senior officer of the three conspirators? Her boss—Lieutenant Commander Hodges.”

  Ellen sat there, considering the information. “So if she was coerced, Susan might have gone to Hodges instead of reporting it to the hotel police?”

  “Why not? It’s the military mind-set. What do you do when there’s trouble? You go to the next person in COC.”

  “And we haven’t interviewed Hodges yet,” Ellen said thoughtfully.

  “He was scheduled for today, until I canceled the interviews because of my brainstorming here at the office. Right now I’m too whipped mentally to do much of anything.”