Silent Witness

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Don’t you feel Susan Kane is innocent? That she got caught up in something at Ares?”

  “Not yet,” Jim said softly, holding Ellen’s fiery gaze. “I’m being an attorney looking at this like a court of law would view the photo. You aren’t. You have personal buttons being pushed. I know you want to think Susan Kane was an honorable woman caught in a nasty little scenario, but we’re still piecing things together.” Cochrane took a quick peek out the door. When he saw no one in the passageway, he squeezed her hand as if to soothe her flustered state. Ellen’s eyes were filled with frustration. Instantly, he saw the tumultuous feelings ebb as he ran his fingertips across the back of her hand. How he wanted to hold her! He didn’t like to see her this upset; it triggered something deep and protective within him.

  She turned her hand over and quickly squeezed his fingers in return. “Don’t you think Susan was honorable?”

  “Personally? Yes. But professionally, I get paid to look at all the angles. If I don’t, I guarantee it will bite me in the ass in the courtroom. And secondly, I don’t want the photo to become the center ring in a three-ringcircus act.”

  “I see….” Ellen nodded.

  “I wonder why Susan was seen on the arms of three different men within one hour of each sighting. Kane was allegedly drunk, so drunk her knees were buckling beneath her. How do you explain that? Everyone from her skipper on down says she never touched alcohol. And if she was drinking heavily, isn’t it conceivable she may have had sex with whomever? She wouldn’t be the first inebriated female to fall prey to a guy in that context.”

  Ellen rolled her eyes. “Yes, it appears she was drunk. And yes, everyone has said she was a teetotaler. But darn it, Jim, it just doesn’t fit Susan’s psychological profile as we know her. It doesn’t.”

  “And yet it happened. We have to try and find out why.”

  “What also bothers me,” Ellen said irritably, “is the fact that the photo was taped to the inside of that book jacket, facedown, so no one could see it.”

  “Obviously, Susan was hiding it,” Jim said. “It’s not something you put in the family photo album, is it? Especially with her family.”

  “I wish I hadn’t smudged that print!”

  “Let it go. I’ve got Chief Hazzard from the lab working on the photo some more to see if he can divide the fingerprint layers. We should know sometime tomorrow if he can or not.”

  Ellen said, “That would sure simplify our task, wouldn’t it?” There was nothing she wanted more right now than to identify that other fingerprint.

  “Yes, but cases don’t normally break clean like that. They open up because of basic hard work and not overlooking any details.”

  “My gut hunch is that her commander, Hodges, is involved in this somehow.”

  Jim gave her a proud look. “You’re getting good, Ellen. We’ll make an investigator out of you yet.” He eyed the mysterious paper sack sitting in the corner. “Did you catch any other new fish this morning? You were late. That’s not like you.”

  “I had a couple of stops to make,” she answered. “I drove over to Giddings and showed Ann Hawkins and Becky Jillson a document copy of the photo of Susan on the bed. They promised to keep it a secret, and I believe they will. They were her best friends,” Ellen said. “Both held the same belief—that Susan would never willingly do anything like what the photo suggested. Ann still wouldn’t name any of the people at Top Gun who may have been pressuring Susan.”

  Cochrane nodded and pushed himself out of his squeaky chair. “I’m not surprised. Dead-end leads. We’ll interview Hodges tomorrow. Let’s get to work.”

  Ellen glanced up at him as he took a few files from the cabinet and handed them to her. “Jim, do you miss being married?”

  He raised a brow. “The fighting? No.”

  “I meant…” She shrugged. “Having a home, I guess.”

  “Oh, that. Reckon I miss the hell out of that.” With a chuckle, Cochrane said, “My apartment looks like a major disaster area. Hazmat will have to be called in shortly to clean it up. Or maybe the Environmental Protection Agency will have to take over.”

  Ellen laughed and began opening the files on her desk. Her heart beat a little harder as she saw him consider her softly spoken question.

  He glanced over at her as he sat down again. “Why do you ask?”

  “Single life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I find myself very lonely in that new apartment of mine.”

  “Missing marriage, are you?” He sure did. And it was obvious that Ellen did, too. He watched her slender fingers skillfully sort the files. She had such grace. What would it be like to have her fingers grazing his flesh? Groaning to himself, Jim realized he was physically aching for her again.

  “I guess I am.” Ellen sat back in her chair.

  “If we didn’t have to work our tails off on this investigation,” Cochrane stated as he stuffed several papers into his briefcase, “we might be able to enjoy one another’s company more.” And then he said in a gritty tone, “I wish things were different, Ellen, but they aren’t.”

  “You’re a mind reader.”

  “We can be miserable together, can’t we?”

  “Yes, misery loves company,” Ellen said. She rested her elbows on the desk. “I keep wondering why Susan put that photo in a book from her childhood, and left it in her office. She could have put it anywhere.”

  “Reckon if it was for blackmail purposes, I think I’d have burned it a long time ago. Whoever took the photo must have had the negative or others, that’s for sure. So, why would she leave it lying around?”

  “It wasn’t exactly lying around,” Ellen reminded him archly.

  “I try and look at it from both perspectives,” Jim said. “If Susan did do this kind of thing routinely, why shouldn’t she keep the photo around? But the curious question is why at the office instead of at her condo?”

  “Remember? We looked through her books at home as well as every other place we could find. We never found anything except the marked-up volume of Don Quixote. Not so much as a bookmark in any of the others.”

  “Well, that photo isn’t exactly bookmark material.”

  Ellen gave him a frown of disapproval.

  “Conversely, if she was forced into the situation and was being blackmailed, she would hide it,” Jim speculated.

  “I know,” Ellen whispered unhappily, tapping the side of her head with her index finger. “A child’s book, of all things. And at work. I think Susan would be fearful of having it discovered there. She was so careful with her image at Top Gun. Why on earth would she put the photo in her office?”

  “Well,” Jim said, “one thread is consistent.”

  “What?”

  “Susan and her bears. She put the photo in a bear book—”

  “Oh, my God! Jim!” Ellen shot to her feet. “That’s the other clue!”

  Jim raised his head and frowned. “What clue?”

  “I’ve got it!” she shrieked excitedly, turning to him and waving her hands. “That’s it! The teddy bear!”

  He growled, “You’re not making any sense, gal.”

  Grabbing the evidence sack and setting it on her desk, Ellen said, “Yes, I am! Don’t you see? Susan’s teddy bear. The one in your dream. This morning, before I drove to the office, I dropped over to La Mesa’s police department and talked with Detective Gardella. They had the teddy bear and Susan’s mother’s photo in their evidence locker. Eventually, at the conclusion of the case, it would’ve been sent to Robert Kane. I couldn’t stand to have him burn or destroy them. We’d promised the teddy bear would go to Tommy after the investigation, so I brought it with me this morning. I was going to send it to him as soon as Susan’s case was closed.”

  “Okay…” Jim said, not understanding her sudden enthusiasm.

  “Oh, Jim, the dream! Remember your dream? The bear’s just been sitting there waiting for us to ask!”

  “It can’t talk.”

  “Not talk, but s
ee! We’ve got to get the bear’s eyes tested for fingerprints.” She saw him scowl. “Don’t you get it? There could be fingerprints on those plastic eyes!”

  Jim threw his hands up and shook his head. “Gal, I reckon you’ve lost it. There aren’t going to be any fingerprints. It’s fake fur.”

  “Jim, the eyes are large, shiny buttons. Please,” Ellen said breathlessly. “I just know there are prints on one of them! The bear ties to your dream, too. Susan handed you her bear with no eyes in its head. Remember?”

  “Hell, woman, leave my stupid dream out of this conversation. It meant nothing—nothing,” he muttered irritably, looking around his desk.

  “Jim, I know you’re tired and sleep deprived, but humor me on this request, please?”

  “This is harebrained, Ellen. You’re knocking around like a blind hound dog in a meat house.”

  “Maybe,” she said excitedly, “but maybe not. Susan was holding that bear in her arms when she died. It ought to be tested for fingerprints, but for anything else as well—like a human hair or whatever else could be clinging to it.”

  “Okay, okay,” he muttered, “I figure if I humor you, I’ll get more work done much sooner. I don’t know what the hell all this bear stuff is going to prove.”

  “Just have the lab dust for fingerprints, for starters. This makes so much sense to me. Don’t you see?”

  “I’m as tired as a rutting tomcat after an all-night prowl through a neighborhood of female cats in heat. This is bad timing.”

  Ellen reached out and patted his shoulder. “Thanks for humoring me.”

  “I just think you’re feeling guilty about smudging the fingerprint on that photo,” he said defiantly.

  Ellen shook her head. “Jim, you stick to being an attorney and I’ll stick to being a therapist, okay?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  July 13

  “COCHRANE SPEAKING….”

  “It’s Ellen. Listen—”

  “I’m asleep….”

  “I’m sorry. I know how late it is, but this is important.” Ellen heard him slurring other words she couldn’t understand. His Missouri twang was most pronounced when he was sleepy, she discovered.

  “Geez, it’s after midnight. What’s this flap-doodle all about?”

  Holding the phone more tightly, she said, “Listen to me, will you? I just got a fax from Chief Hazzard from the forensic lab. Remember how we took the bear over to him to be dusted for fingerprints? You’ll never guess whose print is on the bear’s eye!”

  “What? Hold on, I’m not awake, gal. Slow down and speak clearly. You’re blitherin’ on like a fool…”

  “The only fool is at your end of this line!” she yelled into the phone. “Wake up, Jim! This is important!” Lowering her voice, she rasped, “The fingerprint on the bear’s eye belongs to Commander Brad Kane!”

  Ellen waited for a response. She pulled the phone away from her ear, looked at it, wondered if it was working and then listened again. “Jim? Are you there? Did you fall back asleep on me?”

  “What print are you talkin’ about?”

  “Chief Hazzard found a fingerprint on the bear’s right eye. He checked it against the four names you supplied for comparison to the partial print on Susan’s photo. Brad Kane was a match to the print taken off the bear’s eye.”

  “Brad Kane?” he repeated thickly.

  “Yes,” she said triumphantly. “Of all people, I never expected his print on it.”

  “Hold on….”

  She heard a bed creaking, then a groan. Ellen assumed Cochrane was finally sitting up. Impatiently, she asked, “Remember Ann said Brad hadn’t seen Susan for two years? If so, those prints wouldn’t be on there at all. He had to be there. How else could you explain her brother’s fingerprint on Susan’s bear? Something’s not right here.”

  “Slow down, gal. You’re worse than a broken down nag who thinks she can win at a county horse race.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, Jim. It had better be one.”

  “Okay, okay. Just creep along, will you? I don’t think well the first hour after I get blasted out of bed.”

  “We didn’t think to check if Brad or Tommy Kane were on their carriers around the time Susan took her life. We do know from Susan’s attempt to reach him through the Red Cross that Tommy was supposedly aboard his. I’ll check tomorrow morning on Brad. What if he was in San Diego at the time of Susan’s death?”

  “Yeah, right. Those are good questions, gal. Makes me wonder if it really was suicide, after all.” He yawned. “Look, I’m whipped. Let me go back to sleep. We’ll follow up on these leads come Monday, okay?”

  Disappointed, Ellen said, “I think we ought to postpone Lieutenant Commander Hodges’s interview until we get this other information, don’t you?”

  “We can’t do that in the middle of the night. Besides, we’ve already postponed Hodges’s interview. Our next one starts at 1030 hours on Monday, and that’s with Lieutenant Parker Davis. We’ll just check first thing then. We should be able to do that and still make the scheduled interviews, including Hodges’s Monday afternoon.”

  Ellen heard Jim yawn again. “I know it’s the weekend,” she sighed. “I’ve got redecorating to do in my new apartment and you have family things lined up.”

  “There’s not much we can accomplish on a weekend, gal. Now, let’s get some shut-eye. I’ll see you Monday morning bright and early.”

  Ellen biting back her frustration. “Good night, Jim.” She hung up the phone. Well, what did she expect? Cochrane had been up all night.

  July 16

  COCHRANE ENTERED their office Monday morning at 0730 to find Ellen sitting at her desk. Her orange and yellow outfit nearly blinded him, but the excitement in her eyes lifted his spirits. His heart swelled. He felt like the most blessed man in the world, to come to the office and have such a beautiful woman waiting. He saw the warm welcome in her eyes, too.

  “You’re gonna hit me with a pile of stuff before I’ve even had my coffee,” he complained, taking off his hat and carefully putting it on the coat hook.

  “No, I’m not,” Ellen said archly as she stood. “Here, it’s a mocha latte, Jim. Drink it. I guarantee it’s like getting a jolt of caffeine directly into your bloodstream.”

  He eyed the paper cup on his desk. “Whipped cream?”

  “Are you complaining again, Mr. Cochrane? How often do you get a free latte at 0730?” She gave him a teasing look. “It’s basically coffee! Stop eyeing it like it’s going to kill you.”

  “Hmmph,” he said, sitting down and taking a sip. “This is too fancy to be called coffee.” His heart filled with joy at seeing her again. He had spent his weekend with Merry at his apartment. He always looked forward to time with his little girl. Every moment with his daughter was special. And it was becoming evident that each moment with Ellen was special, too.

  “I suppose it is fancy,” she said. “You’re partial to hill folk coffee.”

  As he sipped his latte Cochrane riffled through a pile of phone messages. “My ma makes the best coffee in the world. She has a patch of chicory she tends. Plus she goes once a month to buy coffee beans at Hiram’s General Store down in Raven Holler.”

  Ellen smiled. “I’ve never tasted chicory in coffee.”

  “Go to New Orleans. That comes closest to my ma’s coffee.”

  “Well, that latte doesn’t have vanilla or chicory,” she grumped good-naturedly. Seeing him made her feel good. This morning, he looked wide-awake, with no dark circles under his eyes or redness. In fact, he looked damn handsome. She absorbed his silly grin, knowing his high spirits came from spending time with Merry. Ellen was so happy for him and his daughter. Divorce was such a painful thing.

  “It don’t taste too bad,” he said, surprised. He sipped again. “Thanks for the thought, even if you had ulterior motives. I know this is a peace offering for waking this poor hill boy up late Friday night.” He chuckled perversely.

  Ellen’s brows shot up.
“It’s true I felt bad about waking you out of a dead sleep.”

  “From the look on your face, you’ve got some more info on Brad Kane and you wanted me wide awake to listen to your latest discovery.”

  Ellen touched her reddening cheeks. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  His grin widened wickedly as he polished off the rest of the latte and tossed the cup into his wastebasket. “Not much, gal. Now that I’m sufficiently awake, what do you have on Bad Boy Brad?”

  She passed him a printed report. “According to the records on board Brad’s carrier, the John C. Stennis, he left for unexpected emergency leave two days before Susan’s death. He arrived back on the carrier just in time to be told to take off again—that his sister had died and he was granted emergency leave to attend her funeral.”

  “Hmm,” Cochrane said, studying the report intently. “The original reason for the original leave is stated simply as ‘family emergency.’ Susan was that family emergency?”

  “Had to be. Why else would Brad have been let go?”

  “That’s true. Emergency leave isn’t just handed out like candy in the military. You had better damn well have an emergency, or else.”

  “Why didn’t Brad tell us about seeing Susan, then?” Ellen wondered.

  “Good question. My first hunch is the good ole boy system is at work again. And we didn’t ask Brad if he was on board his carrier two days before Susan’s death, so he wasn’t going to volunteer that information.”

  “But why?” Ellen demanded in a frustrated tone.

  “We’ll find out.” Jim rubbed his hands together. “The plot thickens, like my ma’s vanilla pudding.”

  “I have a feeling this interview with Hodges this afternoon isn’t going to be very appetizing, either.”

  Cochrane grimaced. “Since we delayed his interview, it might put some serious pressure on him and he’ll spill the beans. Maybe…”

  Glumly, Ellen nodded. “I didn’t get a good feeling about him from his personnel file.”

  “You and your vibes. They won’t stand up in any court of law, Ellen,” Cochrane sighed.