Silent Witness (3 page)

“I need your help, Jim.”

Cochrane liked Captain Allison, and he'd worked with him on a number of investigations in the past. Although Giddings had its own civilian NCIS and JAG departments, Allison called him in on some investigations because Jim had always done an excellent job. It looked good for his career to have that continue. “What's going down, sir?”

“Lieutenant Susan Kane, one of our best Top Gun flight instructors, was found dead in her condo this
morning over in La Mesa. That's not far from you. I just talked to your boss, Commander Dornier, and he's agreed to cut you loose so you can help us investigate this case. We think there's a possible homicide involving Lieutenant Kane. The La Mesa Police Department watch commander, Lieutenant Carl Erlewine, just gave us a call. It's his turf, and we're requesting a collateral investigation, under the circumstances. I can't use military law and procedures on civilian property.”

“Yes, sir,” Jim said.

“I need someone who's sharp and can deal with civilians. You're to talk to Detective Jerry Gardella, whose on scene already. Let me give you the address. I'd appreciate if you'd drop whatever you're doing and get over there right now, while the L.M.P.D is still conducting their evidence collection at the crime scene.”

“I understand, Captain. Tell me what you've got so far, sir….”

J
IM SAT UP
, pen poised. His heart pumped hard with anticipation. This was the kind of case he was eager to take on, although he was never happy that someone was dead. “Have they taken the body away yet, sir?”

“No. The medical examiner from San Diego will be waiting for you to arrive, so you can check everything out before he removes the body to the coroner's office,” Captain Allison said.

“How was the body discovered, sir?”

“Here's what I've got. An anonymous 911 call came into the L.M.P.D. this morning from a pay phone at a convenience store. A female caller said, ‘There's a woman dying. Get an ambulance over to 1616 Horner Street right now.' Then she hung up. The dispatcher gave the info to the watch commander, who felt it was a legitimate call. He rolled two units on it, plus a paramedic team from the fire department. When the primary and backup officers got over there, they found the condo door unlocked, and went through standard entry procedures. They discovered the body. Lieutenant Erlewine called the M.E. and noti
fied the investigations commander, who sent out two detectives.”

“Was it a cold scene, sir?” Cochrane wondered if the police units had caught anyone in or near the condo. Without an apprehended suspect, it was tougher to assess what went on. Evidence collection would become even more important.

“Unfortunately, it was.” Allison sighed.

“Reckon that's too bad, sir.”

“Yes, it is. Look, Jim, politically, this is a media hot potato. Susan Kane was the only woman instructor pilot over here at Top Gun, and a damn good aviator. I don't want civilian media hyping this any sooner than necessary. The Navy is just now getting out from under the cloud of the Tailhook scandal back in the early nineties. We've made a lot of progress in gender equality, and this could hurt us and our ability to continue to draw intelligent young women into Navy aviation.”

Cochrane nodded. He knew Allison wasn't asking him to suppress evidence, but would prefer him, as part of the prosecutorial staff, to be at the crime scene. A hellacious trial could come out of this. An attorney on scene to help collect evidence and put in timely suggestions to the detectives could be a real asset later on in the courtroom.

“I'll do my best, sir,” Cochrane promised.

“Good. I knew I could count on you, Jim.”

Cochrane did not share the captain's confidence in his ability to deal with civilians, but he wasn't going to
tell him that. His fingers tightened around the pen as he wrote down all the information. What a can of worms!

“Sir, how long ago did you speak to Commander Dornier about assigning me to the Kane case?”

“He and I just got off the phone. Will you get over there pronto so the newspapers don't get ahold of this too quickly?”

Mouth tightening, Cochrane rasped, “I'll work with Commander Dornier and get on it like fleas hopping on a dog. I'll be in touch ASAP, sir.”

“Excellent.”

Cochrane slowly placed the phone back onto the cradle. Captain Allison was a powerful military officer in the NCIS-JAG superstructure, and if he'd chosen Jim out of all the people at hand, this was a plum—of sorts. Maybe an answer to his prayer not to have his career sunk by being assigned this civilian trinket now sitting in his office. Rising, he tucked the legal pad under his left arm and told Tanner darkly, “Stay put. I'll be right back.”

Heading down the passageway again, Jim spotted Dornier at the thirty-cup coffee urn, pouring himself another mug of the thick, black brew.

“Commander?”

Dornier nodded in his direction. “I thought you might be looking for me.” He took a bite out of his Krispy Kreme doughnut and stared expectantly at Jim.

“Sir, Captain Allison just called me and—”

“I know.”

“How can I handle the Kane case plus Agent Tanner?”

“Dovetail 'em, Mr. Cochrane.” Dornier lumbered away from the coffee urn, doughnut in one hand, coffee in the other. He turned and added, “Lieutenant Kane is—was—a VIP in our Navy. The captain wanted a JAG investigation team that included a woman. That's why I suggested you two to him. He wants the media to report that we have a woman on this investigation, so we don't appear politically incorrect. Allison said it looked like possible homicide.” Dornier shrugged his thick, rounded shoulders. “This case has priority over all the others on your desk. It's a favor to Captain Allison. Get on it ASAP.”

“Yes, sir.” Jim halted, his blunt-cut fingernails biting into the legal pad he held at his side. Well, so much for thinking Captain Allison wanted
him.
He wanted a man and woman on this investigation so it looked gender neutral.

Jim turned on his heel and went back to his office. Tanner glanced up at him as if he were a rabid dog foaming at the mouth. Wasn't he?

Tossing the legal pad on the desk, he felt his stomach twist into a knot. Rubbing the region unconsciously, he picked up his garrison hat. He settled it on his head, turned and went across the office to grab his battered, black cowhide briefcase. Maybe the briefcase mirrored him: beat up and worn with age and hard work. He'd
been the only one in his family ever to attend college. His ma had asked her brother, his uncle Hiram, to make it for him as a going-away gift. The durable briefcase had seen lots of use when he'd attended the law program at Ohio State University, too.

Gripping the handle, he glared at Tanner. “You might as well come along and get your civilian feet wet on this investigation.”

“What kind is it?” Ellen eagerly stood. If possible, Cochrane looked even more upset than before. What was that phone call all about? She felt off balance because she didn't know the story, and had to be careful not to assume anything with him. This relationship
had
to work, because she couldn't face going back to Washington, D.C. That part of her life was over….

“A possible homicide. Seems the female pilot who taught at Top Gun was found dead in her condo this morning. It's a potential media hot potato for the Navy.” He grimaced. “I hate to think what spin reporters for television and newspapers will put on it. Let's saddle up.”

Cochrane didn't wait for Ellen as he strode down the passageway. He was all legs, his rolling gait covering the ground. She finally caught up with him, slightly winded.

“You're having a bad day,” Ellen murmured sympathetically. “First me, and now an unexpected case being thrown at you…us….”

“Reckon you're the mistress of understatement.” Jim moved down the stairs two at a time.

Panting as she hurried down the stairs, Ellen caught up with him again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shot her an acidic look. Ellen Tanner was attractive. Her eyes were large and well-spaced in her triangular face. And all that hair…It was as if she'd put her finger in a light socket and got zapped good, Jim thought. “I know you're a shrink, but I'm not your patient. So put the therapy couch away, will you, Agent Tanner?” Oh, yeah, he wanted to talk to her! Well, maybe not talk, just be near her. What would it be like to reach out and touch her? Would she feel as warm and soft as he thought?

Where was his silly heart going? Jim didn't have time for this crazy reaction to her, and yet he couldn't seem to shake it.

Bridling internally, Ellen scowled. “Don't mistake genuine concern for therapy, Lieutenant. Obviously, you've never experienced therapy or you'd be able to tell the difference.”

He held the door open as she walked past him, and answered at the same time. “Score one point for your side, Agent Tanner. Our relationship is professional, not personal,” he said succinctly. “Got that?” He allowed the door to slam behind them and started down the concrete steps to the parking lot. And he wanted to be very personal with her.
Wrong time. Wrong place.
That was his luck.

Ellen caught up with him once more. “Oh, I've got it, Mr. Cochrane. Why don't we just put our guns away and start working as a team?”

He was startled by the gritty tone of her voice, and looked over at her. “Us? A team?” He saw the determination in her narrowed eyes. The breeze tossed her red curls slightly, and he felt a crazy itch to tunnel his fingers into that vibrant mass. Life without a woman for two years had been the worst kind of imprisonment as far as Jim was concerned. Ellen Tanner was reminding him of just how much he'd lost and how much he needed the warmth of a good woman in his life.

“This partnership we've been given can work either for us or against us, Lieutenant. I know you don't like me because I'm a civilian. And possibly, because I'm a woman.”

“You won't hang gender discrimination on me, Agent Tanner. All civilians are fair game in my book, regardless of gender. I'm hill folk. We consider everyone to be outsiders. So it don't matter if you're man or woman.”

“Oh yes, I forgot. You wear your hillbilly status not only with pride, but with obvious prejudice. I'm trying to communicate with you, Lieutenant! You're angry and upset, and you're using me as a convenient scapegoat for whatever series of crises you're experiencing. That's not right.” Her soft voice had an underpinning of steel. “Do I look like a turkey? I didn't come out here to be a moving target for you to shoot at.”

“I won't answer the first question you posed on the grounds it may incriminate me. Your second statement—well, I reckon there's a lot in life that isn't fair,
Agent Tanner. Maybe I'm having a bad day, but it just got worse. So do me a favor? Just stay out from underfoot. I know you don't have the first clue about a crime scene investigation. Hang back and be my shadow and watch.” His conscience ate at him. Ellen really didn't deserve his tirade. She was blameless. But somehow he had to scare her off, because he was frightened by what he might do if she was even minutely interested in him. Doubtful, since he had done nothing in the least to make her like him.

What a galling day. Cochrane tossed his briefcase in the back seat of the gray Navy vehicle and slid in. The car engine sounded like he felt: ragged and unsteady. When was this emotional roller coaster going to end? It had started two years ago when Jodi had demanded a divorce after seven years of marriage. And now he had the worst possible choice in partner on this case.

Ordinarily, a criminal investigation was his favorite assignment. Jim knew he was good at it, like a bluetick hound on the scent of a coon. This was his bread and butter. Homicides were like hunting, and the good Lord knew he'd been raised to hunt, ever since he was old enough to walk at his pa's side with a 30.06 rifle in his hands. Trying to suppress all the emotional surprises of the day, Cochrane concentrated on driving. He couldn't help but be highly conscious of the red-haired woman sitting next to him. It wouldn't be so bad if she wore a wedding ring on her hand, but she didn't. And why
couldn't she have been board ugly? On any other day, Jim would find her interesting, someone he'd want to get to know better. But not today…

 

“I
DIDN'T REALIZE
San Diego was so built up,” Ellen said, trying to break the icy tension in the station wagon. Cochrane's intensity was consuming as far as she was concerned.

About her age—early thirties—he was conservative and all-business—a typical Navy officer. She wondered if he had a sense of humor under that blatant, ongoing sarcasm he called communication. But he was a lawyer, so what did she expect? They got paid for having smart mouths and steel-trap minds.

The JAG officer was pale-skinned, she noted again, not at all what she'd thought someone who lived in California would look like. His summer white uniform was pressed to perfection, his black patent leather corfams—shoes he'd said he hated wearing—were spotless and shiny. Presentation was something she'd noted a long time ago in military types. Some of that was good, and some of it wasn't.

Cochrane's light gray eyes kept drawing her attention. He was rangy and lean, and that Missouri drawl infused every word he spoke. Ellen noticed his large knuckles and long, strong-looking fingers. They had calluses on them. Why? She wanted to ask but didn't.

Pursing her lips, she gazed out the window of the car.

Cochrane reminded her of a greyhound—very lean
and in top physical condition. His face was long, his jaw narrow but pronounced. Maybe it was his mouth, which she could imagine stretching with an easy, almost lazy smile, that gave Ellen hope this tentative partnership could work. Not that Cochrane had smiled. He seemed to have a permanent frown branded on his broad forehead, his lips tight and drawn inward with unhappiness.

A part of Ellen felt bad about making his day worse. But she couldn't flail herself alive on that one. It wasn't her fault, and as an analyst, she clearly understood that she might be a catalyst in Cochrane's life, but wasn't the problem. Whatever Cochrane's projections were, they were his and she wasn't about to take them on or beat herself up because of them.

Lieutenant Cochrane was trying to make her think he was slow and backward—the usual prejudice outsiders had against hill people. But Ellen knew different. One look into those gray, deep-set eyes, and she could see what he was all about. He was clever as a fox, and very appealing to her as a man. Ellen decided to wave a white flag of surrender and start all over again. “In my business, I deal with the less visible, the unseen,” she murmured.