Silent Witness (27 page)

Nodding jerkily, Ellen retrieved a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes and nose. Her scalp tingled
where he'd planted the kiss, and her fingers ached to caress him. How badly Ellen wanted to walk into Jim's arms and be held. Seeing the burning look in his gray eyes, she knew that was what he wanted, too. But yet again, it was the wrong place and time. Softly, she whispered, “I feel the same, Jim. When this is done…”

He picked up his briefcase and held her shadowy green eyes. “We'll have some downtime, gal. Time to talk. Maybe hold one another.”

Her smile was wobbly, her face filled with hope. For the first time in two years, Cochrane felt that even though the world was falling apart around him, he was going to survive it. And he knew it had to do with Ellen being in his life.

July 17

E
LLEN TRIED TO CONTROL
her emotions as Cochrane led her down the block away from Ops. The California sun shined brightly in a clear blue sky. It was nearly 4:00 p.m. After the tissue she used to wipe her eyes began shredding in her hands, he fished out a white handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to her.

“Here,” he said teasingly, “use mine for a while. You've pretty wal mangled that pore ole rag of yores, gal.”

Sniffing, Ellen nodded and took the offered gift. “Thanks…” She blew her nose loudly, folded the handkerchief and blotted her eyes. “I just feel so sad for all of them, Jim.”

“There were losers all the way around.” He looked up as a white gull with black-tipped wings sailed effortlessly overhead.

“Poor Tommy. He's completely devastated by all this. I wonder if he'll ever recover.”

“Reckon if I had to guess, he probably won't. I for
got to tell him that Susan tried to get ahold of him through the Red Cross. We need to touch base with him on that point. I think that will help resolve a lot of the guilt. I'll call and let the family know tomorrow. Tommy will be glad that Susan reached out to him in that crisis. It seems like he's the only family member who really loved her.” Cochrane patted Ellen's shoulder, aching to hold her. “You going to be okay?”

“Y-yes. I don't think I'm going to make a very good investigator, to tell you the truth. Everything upsets me. That's why I never went into counseling work—people's stories always tore me up. I do better with computers, which spout facts and statistics and don't have feelings. Oh, poor Tommy. My heart aches for him.”

Cochrane placed his hand beneath her elbow and guided her into a large building. “Hey, yore turnin' into a fine investigator, so don't gnaw yoreself about it. And yore always gonna wear yore heart on yore sleeve. Let's go to O'Leary's, here, for coffee. I doubt that either one of us can eat right now, but maybe it will help settle our nerves before we go back to the office.”

Cochrane saw Ellen try valiantly to bridle her tears. As they entered the restaurant, he noticed there weren't too many patrons yet. The place was bright and cheerful, with Irish music playing softly in the background. The bar, made of mahogany, was trimmed with a brass rail, the chairs and round tables made from the same materials.

“Can we take that booth over there in the corner? I
don't want people staring at me because I've got red eyes, a red nose and face to match.”

His smile deepened. “Shore 'nuff.” Cochrane lifted his hand in greeting to the tall, lean man behind the bar. Sean O'Leary waved in return, a bright smile of welcome across his Irish face.

“Hey, if it isn't my Ozarks friend once again. How you doin' today, Lieutenant?”

“Fine,” Cochrane lied. No sense telling him the truth.

The grin on O'Leary's impish features widened. “Glad to have you back.”

After the waitress took their order, Ellen sighed and searched Jim's face. “I guess you've seen it all, haven't you? That's why you're taking this so much better than I am.”

With a shrug, he moved the white napkin and the flatware to one side. “I've seen a lot. But everything? No way.” He lowered his voice. “All cases affect me, gal. Maybe I just don't show it as soon or obviously as you do, is all. Or in the same way.”

“You were the strong one in there earlier.” She warmed at the compassionate expression in his gaze. How badly Ellen wanted to hold his hand, feel his fingers lace through hers.

“Someone sure had to be,” Jim teased. He picked up the fork and absently played with it. “That was an interesting dynamic, don't you think?”

“The family dynamic among the Kanes?”

“I reckon so. Robert Kane was ready to condemn Su
san all over again for the sake of propriety. More than willing to indict her, even without hearing all the facts. And after hearing them, he softened his blame of her to a degree, but he has yet to surrender to his guilt and contribution to her death.”

“Tommy and Brad knew their part in this once they pieced together the truth of the situation. And they accepted it.”

Jim snorted softly. “It's a good thing. There might be a dysfunctional sickness in the family, but at least the sons are healthy enough not to go along with that same pattern forever.”

“Now who sounds like a shrink?” Ellen said.

Cochrane gave her a pained, lopsided smile, then looked up as the waitress set the coffee they'd ordered in front of them. After taking a healthy swig of his, he said, “Nothing like thick black coffee on a bad day.”

Ellen tentatively sipped her brew. “It does taste good. My stomach is tied in Gordian-size knots. I know it's almost dinner time. If you want to eat, go ahead. I can't.”

“Yore setch a softy, Ellen. But that's one of many things I like about you. You bring a human side to an investigation I didn't have before.”

She smiled at him. “With no apologies.”

“I know.” Cochrane nodded. “So was Susan, you know. She was a big softy underneath that jet jock veneer.”

“No doubt.”

“I wonder what she could have done with her life if it hadn't been brought to an end so soon. Gone on and become an astronaut? Discovered a new design for a plane? What?”

“What about personal things, like meeting the right guy and having some wonderful kids?”

“We'll never know, will we? What a waste of a good life. She was a special soul. Very special.” Cochrane drank some more of the coffee. “What we have are jerks like Hodges, Michelson and Bassett, garbage from pre-Tailhook days. Tell me the world's better off with them here instead of Susan Kane?”

“I can't. Those three have to live with what they did, though.”

“Reckon so…” Jim said slowly. “I hope it eats like acid through their craw.”

“I don't think it will,” Ellen muttered. “They'll wall it off, go into denial about their roles in this, and over time, make it less important in their lives. Susan ensured that her last ‘mistake' would go to the grave with her, that it wouldn't be found out. Her brothers' careers would be safe and on track.” She sighed. “How unfair.”

“Reckon life ain't ever fair, but it does go on,” Cochrane said. “Shakespeare has a quote to fit Susan's life.”

Ellen lifted her head. “You know Shakespeare?”

He grinned. “I'm a country boy, but we had plenty of what Ma called ‘good books,' in our cabin. She had most of Shakespeare's works. She especially loved his
sonnets. Ma used to read them to us every night before we went to bed.”

“I'll be darned. I'm impressed, Jim. What would Shakespeare say about Susan?”

Placing his hands around the warm mug, Cochrane said, “It's from Julius Caesar. ‘The evil that men do lives after them. The good is oft interred with their bones.'” He held her gaze. “So, unfortunately, it will be with Susan Kane.”

Sniffing, Ellen produced Jim's handkerchief again and blotted her eyes. “I'm going to send Susan's teddy bear and their mother's picture to Tommy tomorrow.”

With a nod, Cochrane said, “I think he'd like that.”

“Do you think those photos can be buried so that no one ever finds out about them?”

“I believe so. Hodges sure as hell isn't going to peep about them, and neither is Michelson or Bassett. I'll contact Hodges tomorrow and ask that they all be passed to me. I'm sure he'll hand them over, under the circumstances.”

“I just wish there was a way to bring those men to justice, Jim.”

“There's one possible way to get those bastards. I didn't say it in front of the Kanes, but there's a back door….”

“Oh?”

“I could tell that captain who works for the CNO the true story of Susan's suicide, off-the-record. The one who approached me twice. Remember?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I honestly don't think he'll ask to see the evidence, but if he's the man I think he is, restitution will be brought to bear on Hodges, Bassett and Michelson in another way. You might rail against the Navy system of taking care of its own, but in this case, Ellen, the CNO will be their judge and jury. He'll jettison those three pecker heads out of the Navy like torpedoes launched out of a sub tube.”

“What if he won't act without proof?”

Jim forced a smile. “That captain is a first-rate human being. He saw between the lines. With those kinds of people on the CNO's staff, with all the evidence we've gathered, and I'll bet my bottom dollar that he'll act swiftly on this situation.” He finished his coffee and set the cup aside. “Well, gal, are you up to getting back in the saddle?”

“What do you mean?”

Cochrane looked at his watch. “We've got three other cases sitting in our in-basket just begging for our attention. Plus we have a five-day forensics seminar over in Oahu, Hawaii, coming up next month that we'll have to attend. That's part of the ongoing education for JAG personnel.”

“Hawaii? Hey, I like that,” Ellen said, brightening. “That's almost like a minivacation.”

Grinning, Cochrane nodded. “Yeah, I'm looking forward to the seminar. I have a lot of good friends over at the Navy station on Ford Island in Pearl Harbor. I in
tend to drop by and say hello.” He also thought it would be an excellent time to explore his relationship with Ellen. Out of sight, out of mind of his JAG office and Commander Dornier. The time over in Hawaii could be healing and hopeful for both of them, he realized.

“Sounds like just what we need.”

“Because the Kane case is wrapped up doesn't mean we don't have a pile of work running after us, begging for our attention. Are you up for it? Or do you want to take the rest of the day off and I'll go back to the office?”

“Hey, I may be a softy at heart, but I'm no quitter, okay? I'm going back to the office with you.”

“Butterflies always look so fragile.” He saw the amusement sparkling in her eyes, some of the pain and shadows dissolving.

“Butterflies? What do I have in common with butterflies?” Ellen liked the idea that Jim saw her like that.

Toying with his cup, he studied her. “Have a late dinner with me tonight and find out?” He watched as surprise filled her eyes.

Ellen sat back. “A real date?” Her heart thudded to underscore her joy over his request.

“Reckon so.”

She studied him critically in the silence. “Dinner date as in…?”

“I don't want to spend this evening alone. Just dinner…between us? To discuss our growing relationship?” He wanted more than that, but he'd be grateful for that much.

Ellen averted her gaze. “Dinner,” she repeated, more to herself than him.

“How about it? You've always been the wild woman of our team. Here I thought you would like another challenge, Ellen—a real, live, honest-to-goodness dinner with all the trimmings. Or maybe it's bad timing?” Cochrane needed her softness and understanding after this gut-wrenching day.

Her lips curved into a smile. “Wild woman. Butterflies. Who knows what else lurks in that facile mind of yours, Mr. Cochrane?”

He chuckled. “From the first moment I laid eyes on you and that wild red hair of yours, I figured you were a wild hill woman at heart.” Her face turned red with a blush. “Are we on for dinner?”

“I'd love to have dinner with you.”
And more
. But she didn't say that. Ellen was smart enough and old enough to let the dinner invitation lead to wherever it would go.

Her smile was gossamer, her eyes shining with such—love? Cochrane wasn't sure what he was seeing. Although he was afraid to utter the
L
word—it was much too soon—he decided not to try and figure this one out. “Fair enough, gal. Fair enough.”

 

W
HEN THEY RETURNED
to their interview room at the Top Gun facility, it was nearly 1645. A cloak of sadness still embraced Cochrane, and he allowed himself to feel badly for Susan and her family.

He was about to speak to Ellen, who had just picked up her briefcase, when a tall and brawny sailor rushed in. His features were tense.

“Lieutenant Cochrane, you'd better come with me. All hell's broken loose over at the O Club.”

Instantly, Cochrane was on his feet. “What happened?”

The Shore Patrol petty officer stood in the doorway, his hands on his white web belt. “We just got a call from the manager of the club, sir. An unidentified officer went into the bar and started firing a pistol. We've got three men down.”

Ellen gasped and turned to Jim.

“Do you know who?” he demanded, grabbing his cap.

“No, sir, I don't. You're the closest JAG officer we could find. I knew you were over here interviewing personnel. Captain Allison from JAG said to come and get you. It's a bloody mess over there, sir. We've got the shooter.”