Silent Witness (6 page)

“Mine's worse. A hog looking for a new waller would probably take one look at my place and gleefully move in.” Jim made an expansive gesture. “What you fail to understand is that military people are taught to keep things neat, clean and organized. I'm sure four years at Annapolis instilled those values in her.” He gazed around the living room. “But this is too clean. It's as if Kane were waiting to get an E rating.”

“E rating?” Ellen questioned.

“Every operation in the U.S. Navy has a periodic Inspector General's inspection. That's when the boys from D.C. and the Pentagon descend like a flock of buzzards on a ship or station wearing white gloves, and examine every last thing there is to inspect. They look not only at appearances but at performance and record keeping. Station commanders quake in their boots over an I.G. They refer to it as an E rating. A bad rating and their career is torpedoed. And the unlucky officer that heads up the section with the poor results can kiss his career goodbye, too.” Cochrane snapped his fingers to emphasize the point. “Just like that.”

“And Susan's condo is ready for inspection?”

“Yep. Nothing, and I mean
nothing,
is out of place. It's as if she planned the whole thing. Even the window-sills and other ledges you'd normally find some dust on
are clean. An I.G. team would be hard-pressed to find anything out of order. She doesn't even have an Irish pennant on her uniform.”

“Irish pennant?”

“A Navy word for a thread hanging off your uniform.”

“Oh.”

“Did you look closely at Kane's uniform?”

“Uhh, no.”

“Well, I did. No Irish pennants. Each brass buttons on her jacket is polished to perfection. All of her medals are straight and perfectly aligned to the left breast pocket. There's no lint on her black-and-gold shoulder boards. I looked at the white heels she wore, and there aren't even any smudges on the backs of them. Everything is too tidied up.”

“Too perfect?”

He gazed around and frowned. “Yes. I've got law briefs scattered from my kitchen table to my coffee table in the living room. I've got socks lying on the deck of the head.”

“In other words, your apartment has a lived-in look?”

He gave her a sour smile. “In my place someone could die and not be located for a week. This place seems to be too clean for even death to visit.”

“I can smell a faint odor of Pine-Sol,” Ellen confirmed. “So maybe she washed the walls?” Her stomach was settling. Jim's warm, engaging teaching style was helping her deal with her memories.

“Reckon she got everything spotless, as if ready for one final inspection. Was she expecting someone to come over? Did they? If so, who? Did this other person or persons push Kane into taking those pills? Was it the 911 caller? If so, was this a lover's spat? What the heck were Kane's actions telling us?”

Ellen followed him back to the couch and sat down, her voice low with emotion. “I don't see how anyone wouldn't be touched by seeing Susan clutching that teddy bear to her breast. I had this feeling she was more a little girl rather than a grown, mature pilot with a multitude of impressive degrees.”

“There's such a split here. Kane was obviously on the fast track in the Navy, yet she's got this doggone teddy bear.” Cochrane scratched his head. “In some ways, she reminds me of my daughter, Merry.”

“What a pretty name. How old is she?” Ellen saw the tension in his face melt instantly, and his gray eyes grow warm. Clearly, there was love for his daughter shining in them. How she ached to see such a look for her on a man's face. But Ellen had realized that a great love came only once in one's life, if ever. And she'd had hers. Still, she absorbed that look on Cochrane's face, feeling like a thief.

“Six years old.” Jim smiled and rocked back on his heels. “I've loved that kid from the day I laid eyes on her. I couldn't be with Jodi, my ex-wife, when Merry was born—I was on temporary assignment to Washington. I arrived home two days later.” He pursed his mouth and revisited the pain of missing his daughter's birth.

Ellen said quietly, “I've found from my study that being a military wife is at times an awful burden. The man of the house is away more than he's at home. It builds a lot of tension, and a lot of anger by the wife toward the husband.” She could see the devastation in Cochrane's eyes. To miss your child's arrival, one of life's most precious moments, would be awful. She saw the angst in the set of his mouth, the tension returning to his features.

Rubbing his palms on his slacks, Cochrane nodded. “No need to tell me, Ellen.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Jodi pulled the plug on our marriage two years ago. We split the blanket. I can only see my daughter on visits. She doesn't live with me and it sucks.”

Ellen sat very still. “Divorce is like going through a death.” Shrugging, she whispered haltingly, “My husband…Mark…died of a heart attack two years ago. I was at work at the time. I came home and he…” Ellen shut her eyes and whispered, “He was lying dead in the living room floor. At first, I thought he was playing a game with me. He was always such a tease. I bent down to shake his shoulder and…It was such a shock.”

Jim scratched his head and shifted uneasily. “I didn't know that.” Placing his hands on his hips, he looked beyond her. “Sorry.” And he was. When her lower lip trembled, he again found himself wanting to reach out and touch her, to try and soothe the pain he saw in her face. The ache in his own heart was very real. Whether
he wanted to or not, he felt deeply for Ellen. Far more than he should, and he didn't understand why.

Ellen wiped her eyes self-consciously and mustered a slight smile she didn't feel. “How could you know, Lieutenant? I didn't tell you.”

He nodded, and said apologetically, “I reckon we're both struggling, then. Your husband died and so did my marriage. We're a fine pair, aren't we? Only I'm not so sure that divorce isn't a continuing kind of dying process that has no finish, no end. It's an ongoing emotional torture.”

Ellen took a deep, ragged breath. “I can't argue with you. Since Mark died, I've had a huge hole right here.” She pointed to her heart. “I was glad to get this assignment, if you want the truth. It got me away from everyone who knew us back in D.C.” She held his sudden, intense gaze. “In a divorce, there's no walking away, especially if children are involved. It's a painful situation for everyone.”

Cochrane grimaced. “Life isn't pretty, is it? Never mind, don't answer that.” He forced himself to get back to work. Talking with Ellen Tanner was easy. Too easy. Speaking more to himself, he muttered, “This place is too meticulously clean. Kane's too neatly dressed.”

“It's suspicious to me, too,” Ellen admitted. “Suicidal people usually don't care about their appearance when they're in that frame of mind.”

“You're very observant. Suicide types usually have sloppy homes. They're depressed. They don't care what
they or their place look like. This officer's home is too spit-and-polish perfect. Had she worn the uniform somewhere at an official function and then come home?”

Ellen brightened. “Did anyone find a letter from her? An explanation why she took her life? If she did?”

“I understand there was no suicide note found,” Jim stated, perplexed. “I've never seen a suicide yet where the person didn't leave a note.”

“So,” Ellen said, “you think this was a murder?”

“It's angling that way. As I said, we'll know more after the M.E. performs the autopsy,” Jim said. “Let's go. We're done here.”

Never had Ellen wanted to hear those words as much as now. She nearly tripped on Cochrane's heels getting out of the condo. Lifting her face to the sunshine, she gratefully took several deep breaths to steady her unsettled stomach, then hurried to catch up with Jim as he strode along.

“Where are we going now?” she asked.

“We've done everything we can do here. I need to get back to the JAG office and drop this film off to Chief Hazzard at our crime lab. I want you to take the rest of the day off while I run a lot of errands. I have to get my case files squared away so we both can make sense of them in the coming week. I'll drop you off at your hotel. You can come in at 0800 tomorrow morning. We'll start working together then.”

Jim realized Ellen needed time to deal with being
around a dead body. He understood that seeing Susan Kane had resurrected her husband's death for her—big-time. He kicked himself, knowing he should have been more sensitive to begin with, asked more questions. Instead, he'd been so tied up with his own reaction to having an untrained partner that he'd let her fall through the hole all by herself. A good partner didn't do that. He swore silently he'd make it up to her in some way.

“Good, because I don't even have my bags unpacked yet.” Ellen gave him the address of the hotel where she was staying.

Cochrane started up the car and put it in Drive. “I have so many consarned things ahead of a dead body to deal with.”

“Family obligations?” Ellen guessed, softening her tone. Her heart was settling down now, most of the pain dissolved. Part of it was due to Jim's care of her. Despite his growly initial response, she realized he was a man who cared. Hope burned bright in her and she relaxed for the first time since they'd met.

Cochrane's mouth flattened as he drove the car out of the condo area and back onto a main street. “Hill folk are taught to take care of their families.” He slanted her a quick glance. “A family for us is knit tighter than a pair of crochet needles. This splitting of the blanket is the worst thing that's ever happened to me. My folks are still het up about the divorce. They love Merry, too. We visited them every year, so they got to see her growing
up. Now—” his mouth turned down “—now it's going to be next to impossible to take Merry back to see them, what with the judgment handed down by the local court.”

She nodded. “I imagine, coming from hill folk, you're one of the few in your family who's gone on to a professional career?”

Cochrane laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I reckon in one way I'm the apple of my family's eye, becoming an attorney. I'm the only one of my generation to leave the hills and go ‘outside,' try for a brass ring other than becoming a wood carver making walnut bowls for the tourists, a farmer or coal miner.”

“It's nice to see a man close to his family,” Ellen said, folding her hands in her lap.

“I think what split my wife and I up was my long hours. Sometimes I wouldn't get home until midnight or later. Jodi got crossed-patched about spending evenings alone, and I tried to tell her that with my caseload, I couldn't just drop work and run home to her and Merry.”

“You strike me as someone who cares deeply about his cases. You aren't about to do a sham job on one.”

“That's right,” he said grimly. “Jodi just wouldn't bend. I told her that when I made lieutenant commander rank, my load would ease and we'd have more time together.”

“When do you get that rank?”

“I should be up for early consideration in about a
year, but I've been out of sorts and it's reduced my chances. In fact, going through this divorce could about put the last nail in my coffin—for good.”

“You're not as hard or tough as you'd like people to think you are.”

He glanced at her, a slight smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. “Keep it a secret, will you?”

Ellen smiled in return. “I will.”

“You're still looking a little peaked. How's the stomach doing?”

“Still a bit upset. I keep thinking about Susan, about the awful shock it will be to her family.”

“You had a right to feel that way,” Cochrane said, pulling up to the Embassy Suites. He stopped the car at the entrance.

Ellen managed a weak smile and climbed out. “Thanks for the lift. I've got a rental car coming tomorrow morning and I'll have my own wheels.”

“See you at 0800 hours.”

She threw him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.” What she wanted to do was throw her arms around him and thank him for his compassion. Seeing the smile in his eyes, that glint of humor, Ellen suddenly longed for Jim to stay. She'd like to spend time just talking and getting to know him better. After all, he'd salved her wounds at the condo. Maybe she could be a good friend to him in return.

“M
R
. C
OCHRANE
, come in for a minute,” Commander Dornier called, waving from his office doorway.

Jim scowled inwardly but kept his expression neutral. It was 0750. The official start to his day was 0800. Things were on a fast track, it appeared. He changed his trajectory and headed to where his boss waited for him.

“This will only take a moment,” Dornier said briskly, standing aside to allow him into the spacious office.

“Yes, sir?”

“This Lieutenant Kane investigation?”

“Yes, sir?”

“She's a media disaster just waiting to bite the Navy's ass, Mr. Cochrane, and that's worse than being a hot potato.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know she was up for early lieutenant commander and rotation to the Pentagon for a cushy assignment? It's obvious she had a sponsor shadowing her career. Admiral Caruthers, Chief of Naval Operations, is
very
upset over her death. He wants answers now.”

Didn't everyone? Cochrane nodded but didn't say that. “I'm on it, Commander.”

If an officer was lucky enough to gain a sponsor—someone of higher rank who followed the junior officer's career and helped get plum assignments—it was like having an unofficial guardian angel. Not all officers had sponsors. And the junior officer never knew who his or her sponsor was. The benefits went only to promising officers who had a hell of a lot on the ball and the moxie and intelligence not to screw up when handed a rare opportunity to show their stuff. These officers got rewarded lavishly as a result, gaining early promotion or working with the powers that be—the admirals.

“Good. This could get nasty, Mr. Cochrane. You may dig up some shit that no one wants the sun to shine on. Be sure to interview the Top Gun people about Kane. They won't like it, but that's tough. I know you have other, less important cases to handle, but you're going to have to juggle them, regardless. How are you and Agent Tanner getting along?”

Jim paid strict attention, and if he didn't know better, he'd swear he saw curiosity in Commander Dornier's eyes. “Fine, sir. No problems at all.”

“That's what I wanted to hear. Dismissed, Mr. Cochrane.”

Cochrane left the office and headed past the large secretarial pool. He saw Ellen Tanner waiting for him in the passageway that lead to their office. It was ex
actly 0800. His heart pounded to underscore her presence in his life.

Her hair was wild as usual and she wore her characteristic bright clothing. Her loud crimson skirt, white short-sleeved blouse and red vest had him wincing internally. There was nothing remotely conservative about Ellen. Not to mention the dangly gold-and-red earrings made her look more like a gypsy fortune teller than an agent from OIG. However, her face was more set than usual, her eyes serious. Despite all of her contrasts something good and cleaned flowed through him. Cochrane nodded in Tanner's direction and murmured, “Good morning.”

Ellen's heart sped up. “Good morning.” Last night she'd realized she was attracted to this officer. There was a nice connection between them, even though their beginning yesterday had been awkward. Her reaction to him stymied her, and she was still too tired to examine it too closely. She followed Jim into the office.

“You get a good night's sleep?” he asked, motioning for her to sit down across from his desk.

“I did. But now you have dark circles under your eyes.”

“Comes with the territory, Ms. Tanner,” he told her teasingly. Lifting a file, he said, “I've been warned things could get real rough on our investigation of Kane. The possibility of an officer or officers from Top Gun being involved in this investigation is on the table. The aviation fraternity will close up tighter than a drum
if they think they're being investigated. It's possible I'll make a lot of enemies of officers above me, and trust me, they won't forget. I'll be so dirty even the hogs won't associate with me. What a land-mine situation we're in.”

Ellen folded her hands in her lap and said, “Do all officers have this level of paranoia about their careers or is this investigation unique?”

His mouth curved. “You'd better believe it. We live from one Fitness Report heaven or hell to the next, Ellen. Unlike you civilians, we survive in a cloistered environment where everyone knows everyone else. Fitreps are put out twice a year, and they can make or break your career. You're either in or you're out. Several bad fitness reports in a row and your dreams and goals are shattered. The handwriting's on the wall—you won't make the next rank, so resign your commission and get out. I like my job too much not to take this Kane situation seriously.”

“I came across this same anxiety when I was doing my Project Demonstrating Excellence or P.D.E. on the Fortress,” Ellen said. “The families in the service lived in as much fear as the father or mother did. Usually, the military member was the man. So I can relate to a degree with your concerns.”

“It's not a very comforting situation,” Cochrane agreed unhappily. Still, he felt good. Hell, if he had to choose a word to describe how he felt around Ellen, it was
happy.
An emotion he hadn't savored in two solid years.

“So what made you join the Navy, with such stress built into it?”

Cochrane sat up and placed his hands on his desk. Ellen's smile was kind and sincere, and he absorbed it hungrily. “I have a lot of pride in the Navy. It means something to me, in spite of its warts.”

“What's to stop you from practicing law as a civilian?”

Shrugging, Jim said, “Nothing, I suppose. A company outside the military has all the problems that we do, but in the Navy it's…Hell's bells, I don't have all the answers.” That soft smile was a trap, he realized. “See how easily you shrinks slip into your analyzing mode? Don't try and make a patient out of me.” So what
did
he want her to be to him? Jim shifted uncomfortably, refusing to answer that question. At least, right now.

“I don't view you as my patient.” Ellen opened her hands. “The way I see it, you're highly regarded around here, Jim.”

He angled a glance at her. “Well, like the old Missouri saying goes, when you're lower than a snake's belly in a wheel rut, there ain't no place to go but up. This Kane case puts me dead in the gun sights of a certain group of jet jocks who could one day be over me in rank. And if I piss them off, they can get even at that time.”

She laughed. “At least you've got a sense of humor. That's healthy.”

He nodded. That sunny smile of hers went straight to his heart, wrapped around it, and his pulse took off like a freight train going downhill. “What about you? What's this gig going to earn for you when it's all over?” Ellen's smile slipped and he saw darkness come to her eyes. “Is this a year in hell for you? Or heaven personified?” Jim tried to keep his voice light and teasing, though his heart felt a twinge. Damn. He saw pain in her eyes.

Ellen tried to keep her voice even. “I really don't know yet. I looked forward to this change.”

“What do you want out of it?” Jim pressed. There was confusion in Ellen's readable face. And she was blushing. He'd known a lot of weasels in his time, but she was artless. Having her around made him feel cleaner about the whole mess that had been piled on him, and he had no idea why.

“I want to know I did a good job.” That was the truth, Ellen decided. There were lots of other responses she could give, but she didn't know if she could trust Jim with such personal details yet.

Cochrane shook his head. “You've got an innocent face just like Susan Kane did. What is it about some women that they look too vulnerable to make the grade?”

Ellen grinned. “I might look that way, but life goes on. All humans are vulnerable, not just certain women. I choose to remain open and not closed up. It's a choice.”

With a groan, Cochrane stood up. “I reckon I'm not in a philosophical frame of mind.” He gave her a quick smile. “Come on, we've got work to do. Best to leave unexploded land mines alone, I always say.” There was still a lingering darkness in Ellen's glorious green eyes, and he wanted to discover why. His sixth sense told him getting too personal was a dangerous thing right now.

Feeling an unexpected warmth in her chest, Ellen decided that being with this JAG officer lifted her spirits. His soft Southern accent, those gray eyes that could turn from a warm look of concern to that of an eagle ready to swoop on a quarry, amazed her. “You mean, work on Susan's case?”

“Yes. Now there's an enigma. What do you think about Susan Kane?” he asked.

“You want my professional opinion?” Ellen rose and picked up her knapsack and briefcase.

“Yeah. I'm bugged by the fact she chose to die in her dress white uniform. If she committed suicide, I think it's some kind of symbolic last gesture, but darned if I know what it means.”

Ellen followed him out the door. “White is seen as a sign of purity and innocence,” she suggested, lengthening her stride to keep up with him.

“When the fleet sails into San Diego, I'll just bet the city fathers don't view all those horny sailors, dressed in their white liberty uniforms, as symbols of purity and innocence,” Jim drawled, stopping at the desk to pick up the keys for their assigned car.

Laughing, Ellen said, “There are many ways to look at the color white, Mr. Cochrane. Susan could have chosen any set of clothes to die in, if it was suicide. Why dress whites, then? Why not her nightgown, or her favorite pair of sweats?”

“Come on, let's mosey over to our office pool car. We've got places to go.”

As Cochrane put the car into gear and headed out into traffic, he glanced over at Ellen. “What else have you got up your therapist's sleeve about Kane?”

“I'm ignoring your sailor analogy, Mr. Cochrane,” Ellen said, chuckling.

“I thought it was a pretty good remark.”

She grinned. “So did I.” Taking a deep breath, she got serious. “Maybe Susan really loved the Navy and put on her dress whites as a way to honor her career?”

“If her death was a suicide, usually it's done over a career screwup or some personal emotional disappointment,” Cochrane conjectured. “I can't see her wearing her dress whites if that was the case. She'd be deeply shamed.”

Ellen considered the possibilities. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Back to Kane's condo.”

“Ugh.” She automatically pressed her hand against her abdomen.

“You're going pale on me,” he warned.

“My stomach's rolling.”

“The body's gone,” he reassured her in a low voice.
“All we're going to do is snoop, see if anything else catches our interest. The police crime scene team is done with their work. I want to get in before the moving van arrives to cart off her things.”

Ellen gulped unsteadily. “I'm glad Susan won't be there. I've been so upset by seeing her in that bed. I had awful dreams last night.” Ellen touched the skin beneath her eyes. “I know I have circles here.”

Driving in bright California sunshine made Cochrane squint. He pulled on a pair of aviator sunglasses. “I'm not surprised. The first time I saw a dead body at a scene, I ran for the bathroom and heaved my guts out, just like you. It's a pretty common response. No college class can prepare you for a corpse.” Jim gave her an apologetic look. “And walking in and finding your husband dead, well, I felt real bad about that. If I'd known earlier, I wouldn't have put you in that position. Next time, speak up?”

“I didn't want you to think I was weak,” Ellen said.

His mouth curved at one corner. “That's not bein' weak in my book.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

“I also had a crazy dream about Kane last night.”

Ellen raised her brows. “Really? Tell me about it.”

Laughing, he said, “Spoken like a true shrink.”

She realized he was teasing her. Maybe Cochrane was trying to make up for yesterday, and how tough it had been on her emotionally. “I'm curious, that's all. I know why I had those terrible, fragmented nightmares
last night. I was traumatized by seeing another dead person.”

“It must be rough,” Cochrane agreed, glancing over at her. He lowered his voice. “You said it happened two years ago?”

Ellen avoided his glance and looked down at her tightly clasped hands. Her voice grew strained. “Yes. I'm still processing a lot of grief. I miss Mark. I miss our talks, the way he saw the world. He was a wonderful person. One of the best.”

“You were lucky to have a marriage like that.”

Ellen whispered, “I was.” She glanced out the window and watched the palm trees and houses flash by. “The sunlight is comforting. I feel like Persephone from the Greek myths, pining away for spring on Earth. I've been feeling so cold inside.”

And then she saw Jim lift his long, large-knuckled hand and place it on hers. His touch was butterfly light, his gesture completely unexpected.