Silent Witness (9 page)

“Not to my knowledge.”

“How long since you've been in contact with her?” Ellen asked.

“Years. Susan was an interloper to our Navy family. When my second wife, Georgia, died five years ago, Susan made it clear she wanted nothing to do with any of us after her funeral.” He glared at them. “I acknowledged her wish to divorce herself from our family. I haven't seen her, spoken to her or received any kind of communication from her since that embarrassing day. Now she's committed suicide. A coward's path.”

“What I meant to say, sir…” Jim hesitated in an effort to control his mounting rage. “We're trying to determine what might have driven Susan to take her life. Or if she had an enemy who wanted her murdered.”

“Susan killed my first wife. That was the worst sin she committed—the worst of many. I don't care how many diplomas she had, or her standing in the Navy, Lieutenant. In our family, she caused all of us nothing but pain.” His mouth flattened. “Now, she's not only created more pain, but embarrassment, as well. If she'd been a man, she wouldn't have committed suicide. She couldn't even die with honor.”

“Perhaps that's the point,” Ellen whispered tightly. “That you wished Susan were a son instead of a daughter?”

Kane stared at her through slitted eyes. “Susan was always a problem. As a child, she was underfoot. She was always sick. She caused my second wife more problems than my two sons combined.” Kane looked at his watch and then headed to the phone. “Susan always did what
she
thought was right. She was headstrong and independent. Too damn independent, if you ask me, but that's a moot point now, isn't it?” He picked up the phone. “This trip back through family history has nothing to do with the Navy's investigation of her death. So unless you have anything more pertinent to ask, this interview is concluded.”

“I'm afraid we have a few more questions before you make your calls, sir.” Frustration surged through Jim,
overshadowing his better judgment. He couldn't believe Kane's callous attitude. Rising to his feet, Jim took the photo from his breast pocket and thrust it forward. “Is this how you expected your daughter to die?”

Kane took the photo and gazed at it, his eyes narrowed speculatively. His mouth worked momentarily, as if to bite back something. “How dare you,” he barked, throwing the photo on the carpet. The man's breath seemed to come in gulps, as if someone had hit him with a two-by-four.

“How dare I?” Cochrane rasped, standing within inches of the taller, older man. “Something isn't right here, sir. I know enough about your daughter at this point to realize she was a damn fine woman—and a superior Navy officer. You don't get better evaluations than Susan Kane earned and we both know it. So why all this coldness? First, your son Brad acted like he couldn't care less if Susan was alive or dead. Now you. What the hell is going on here?”

Cochrane couldn't steady his breathing or get a handle on his emotions. But he didn't care. Susan Kane deserved better than this. She deserved understanding from her family, not this bitter, cold treatment. Were all the Kane men heartless?

Red-faced, Robert Kane took a step backward. “I shall report this unprofessional conduct to your commanding officer. You disgrace the uniform you represent.”

“Jim!” Ellen made a grab for his arm before he could lunge at Kane. Her fingers sank into tense flesh.

Cochrane blinked. He felt Ellen's cool, firm fingers wrap tightly around his arm. She guided him away from Kane. Breathing hard, he steadied himself and felt Ellen's grip loosen. Turning, he picked up the photo that Kane had thrown down. “This, isn't right,” he growled. “You treat your daughter like she was an alien from another planet, or some maggot you can squash under your foot, Captain Kane.”

“You're way out of line, mister,” Kane snarled. “Now get the hell out of my suite! I don't have to put up with little shits like you throwing your weight around. This case is closed! Susan is dead. Leave, dammit.”

“Jim?” Ellen tugged on his arm. “Come on, please?”

“You're right.” Cochrane was trembling with rage. After placing the photo, tape recorder, and papers into his briefcase, he snapped it shut with authority. Time to leave, drive over to the other hotel and talk to Tommy Kane.

 

A
S THEY WALKED TOWARD
the next hotel entrance. Jim watched how the wind lifted strands of Ellen's curly hair around her slim shoulders. How he wanted to pull her into his arms. Instead he put his hand briefly on her shoulder. “Thank you for being there.”

Surprised, Ellen looked up at him. “No problem. I'm glad I could help.” Her skin tingled beneath his firm touch. They had stopped walking and stood face-to-face. Unconsciously, she leaned forward enough to see
the look in his eyes slowly change. Did he want to kiss her? No. Impossible. Ellen was startled by what she thought she saw in his gaze. His fingers briefly tightened on her skin.

“I'm glad you pulled me off Robert Kane. I came so close to hitting him. My good sense just about went out the window.”

She gave him an understanding look. Ellen bemoaned the loss as he lifted his hand. It had been two years since a man had touched her. She never thought she'd want the caress of another man since Mark's death, but she ached for Jim to do exactly that: make sweet contact with her again. Instead, they turned and walked toward the entrance.

Jim opened the glass door for her. “Don't start giving me that starry-eyed look, Ellen. You just happened to hit on one of my sore spots. It burns my craw that her family would think so little of her, of who she was.”

“Well,” Ellen said gently, “in my heart, I think you're right. I'm glad to see your human side, Jim.” She wanted him to touch her again…and kiss her. Her whole world had turned upside down in those seconds when he'd reached out for her. Now, a keening ache was beginning deep in her body. Ellen felt she was awakening from the long sleep of grief.

They walked up to the brass elevator doors. “Oh, I'm human as hell.”

“There's a real person under that Navy uniform?” Ellen kidded. She saw the tender regard in his gaze, and smiled at him.

“Maybe I'm just getting used to being around you, and I'm letting my hair down.”

She stepped into the elevator with him. “It's okay.” She realized he trusted her. Heady stuff on top of her attraction to him.

Cochrane watched as the doors slid shut. “For whatever reason, I'm glad you understood my moodiness. I want you to conduct the interview with Tommy. I'm not in a good space. Are you up to it?” The elevator doors opened and they walked down the wine-colored carpet.

“Of course I will,” Ellen said, surprised and pleased.

“Good, because I don't think I can handle three cold bastards in a row.”

T
AKING A DEEP BREATH
, Ellen halted at room 301 and knocked. She quelled the butterflies in her stomach, gearing up for the unexpected opportunity Jim just gave her. There was no answer. She glanced at Cochrane, who stood behind her. Again she knocked, this time more authoritatively. With her ear to the door, Ellen could hear a TV blaring inside the room. She was beginning to suspect that Tommy Kane wasn't going to answer. Maybe Brad or Robert had phoned ahead to warn him.

Before she could decide her next move, the door opened. Ellen wasn't prepared for what she saw. Dressed in gray military sweats, Lieutenant Tommy Kane, stood before them, a nearly empty shot glass in his hand. The Kane family resemblance was striking, especially the pale blue eyes. And yet Tommy Kane's eyes were red-rimmed from crying. His light brown hair was uncombed, as if neglected for days. Ellen's heart lurched in sympathy.

“You must be the investigators?” Tommy croaked.

“Yes,” she said gently, and introduced herself and Jim.

He grimaced and stepped aside. “Come on in.”

The man's hotel room was a far cry from the others. Ellen could smell the distinct, nose-wrinkling odor of whiskey even before she spotted an open bottle on a small, round table in the corner. Kane's cloth suitcase was open, the uniform he'd worn to the funeral, thrown haphazardly across the bed. Tissues littered the floor around the wastebasket.

Kane passed her on the way to the noisy television set, gave her an apologetic look and turned it off. He set the shot glass on the table and pulled up chairs so they all could sit down. As if realizing his disheveled condition, he pushed his long fingers through his short hair to tame it into place.

Ellen thanked him for pulling out her chair. There was none of the family coldness in Tommy Kane. She was struck by how much he looked like Susan, and wondered if they both took after their mother. Brad Kane certainly favored their father in looks, manners and attitude.

“Sorry for the mess,” Tommy muttered, going over to the bed to jam his dress whites into the suitcase and then drop the lid.

Ellen saw the uncertainty in his eyes and felt the barrage of emotions he barely held in check. His face was flushed and his eyes remained suspiciously bright. What a contrast between family members. According to his personnel record, he was due to get his lieutenant commander's leaves next month.

“I'm sorry we have to conduct this interview so soon after Susan's funeral,” she began softly, holding his gaze. “We'll try to make it as painless as possible, Lieutenant Kane.” She asked Jim to turn on the tape recorder.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Call me Tommy. Everybody else does.” He waved his hand in a helpless gesture. “And I'm glad you came. Do you know how Susan died?” He hesitated. “My father, the captain, says it was suicide, but I don't know whether I believe that or not. I got word on my carrier,
The Nimitz,
that she was found dead in her condo. No cause was given. I just couldn't believe it.” He searched their faces earnestly for answers.

Ellen swallowed hard. “She died of an overdose of sleeping pills, Tommy. We don't know if her death was the result of suicide or a homicide. We're interviewing people who were close to her to try and find out more, but so far, we have very little to go on.”

He gave them a stricken look. “I just don't understand. God, I don't….” He stared at them. “If Susan was in trouble, why didn't she try to get ahold of me? Or someone?” He clasped his hands together. “You don't have any leads?”

Cochrane shook his head. “No, that's why we're checking with the family first. There's no indication, thus far, of anything gone wrong in Susan's life. But something must have.”

“Susan was doing great! She had everything she wanted.” Tommy shook his head and stood, shoving the chair away from the table. He moved jerkily to his well-
worn suitcase, threw the lid open again and rummaged around for a full minute before he found what he was looking for. “Here,” he said urgently, dropping a couple sheets of paper on the table. “It's her last letter to me. She sent along forty-eight photos from the Ares Defense Contractor's Conference she'd attended in May. Susan always sent me photos and info from the seminars she goes to because I can't make a lot of them, being on sea duty.”

Cochrane reached for the packet of photos. “Mind if we take them for evidence?”

“No, not at all. She always sends—I mean, sent me photos. I don't know what good they'll be to you, though.”

“We'd like to look at them in any case,” Cochrane said. He wrote “ARES” on the outside of the envelope and placed the photos in his briefcase. Then he opened the letter and began to read, handing the sheets he finished to Ellen, one at a time.

Ellen read the handwritten letter.

Ellen looked up at Tommy and then over at Jim. “This letter wasn't written by someone wanting to commit suicide.”

“No,” Tommy whispered, a catch in his voice, “it wasn't.”

“We'd like to keep the letter for a while.” She handed the pages back across the table to Jim. “Tommy, did Susan ever mention the names of those three aviators who were giving her problems?”

He shook his head. “One thing you don't do in this man's Navy is name names, Agent Tanner. Never say anything you wouldn't put in writing, and never put anything in writing. We both know that little caveat.” He pointed to the letter. “That's why she didn't name them there. If anyone other than me had read the letter, the grapevine could get the word back to them. The air community is small and everyone knows everyone else's business. If you have a problem, you solve it in-house.”

“Do you suspect who the three were, Lieutenant?”

“No, I don't.” He sighed and looked down at his hands. “Ever since Tailhook happened in the early nineties, the aviation community has really tried to make amends and get things on an equal footing for women pilots. There are pockets of resistance, though, even now.” He pointed to the pack of photos. “And there's some pretty incriminating evidence of what went on at the Ares Conference. I can see why my sister was upset. Plus, she said there were more photos to come, but I never got them.”

“Are you aware of any incident involving her outside of what's mentioned in her letter? Did she e-mail you later, perhaps? Phone you about it?” Ellen asked.

He shrugged helplessly. “No, nothing. Like I said, some of those photos are pretty provocative. No names, just the actions taking place. But if she was collecting other raunchy photos, I don't have them.”

“I'm going to cross my fingers they're in that file in the office.” Ellen frowned. “You could help us in a roundabout way by telling us a little about your family life, and your growing-up years. You're not obligated to do so, just if you'd like to share. It would help us understand Susan a little better. Were you close to her?”

Tommy smiled and relaxed. “Yeah, we still are—I mean—were close.”

“Was Susan close to Brad?”

“No, he was the oldest and saddled with the two of us underlings.” With a shake of his head, Tommy said, “The captain hated Susan. My God, to this very day I'll never understand his reaching such a warped conclusion about her. She wanted so much to have Dad love her.”

“How did that affect Susan growing up?” Ellen murmured.

Tommy lifted his face to the ceiling, sniffing and fighting back fresh tears. “Susan was a good person and she tried so hard to do everything right—even perfect. That way, she stayed out of trouble. The captain had weekly inspections when he was home, and he made it clear it was up to Susan to make sure all our bedrooms were white glove clean.”

“Where was Georgia in all this?” Ellen demanded.

“Georgia…” His mouth pulled into a twisted line. “I shouldn't speak ill of her now because she's dead, but she was a piece of work, let me tell you. A real shark of a Southern belle with a nose for rank. She married the captain when she was twenty years old.” Tommy sobered a little. “I'll give Susan this—as much as she was picked on by our parents, she never broke. She was tough and had a backbone of steel. And God knows, Susan was the scapegoat for everything. In the end, I think it just made her stronger, more determined to reach her goals.”

“Did Susan ever have a significant other?” Cochrane asked.

Tommy nodded and sat back down. “Susan was pretty. She was the class president four years running, at two different high schools. She was smart, popular, and everyone liked her. Tons of guys wanted to date her, but the captain wouldn't allow it.”

“That's terrible,” Ellen said with disgust.

“Yeah, tell me about it. We boys were allowed to have girlfriends. I don't know how many times Susan lay on her bed on Friday nights and cried because the captain forbade her to go to school dances. She was glad to get out of the house when she was eighteen.”

Ellen compressed her lips when she saw Cochrane draw out the photo of Susan from his shirt pocket. He handed it to her and she swallowed hard. “Tommy, what can you tell us about Susan's teddy bear?”

The man's face crumpled and tears filled his eyes.

“We have a photo of Susan the day she died, and she's holding the bear. Try and prepare yourself to look at this photo, if you want. You don't have to,” she said, handing the photo to Tommy.

He inhaled sharply, his gaze pinned to the picture. “Oh, God…” He pushed the print back toward Ellen. Pressing his hands against his eyes, he turned away. “Oh, God…”

Ellen went over to him, slid her hand across his back and felt him trembling. “I'm sorry,” she soothed, patting him gently. “So sorry…”

Cochrane went over to the minibar and returned with the same bottle of whiskey that Kane had been drinking out of. After sloshing the contents into the water glass, he thrust it into the aviator's hand. “Reckon you might want a drink of this.”

Tommy nodded, pressed the tumbler to his lips and gulped down the liquid. He handed the tumbler back to Cochrane and nodded in thanks.

Ellen felt Tommy's sorrow as though it were her own. It brought back the clear, cutting pain from the untimely death of her husband. Fighting her own tears, she walked back to the table and sat down to wait until Tommy could get hold of his emotions.

At last, wiping his flushed cheeks, Tommy said, “I'm a mess. I'm never like this, never. I'm sorry. It's just that I loved Susan so much and I can't believe she's dead. I just can't believe it….” He covered his face with his hands.

To Ellen's complete surprise, Jim came over to stand by her. He placed his hand on her shoulder for just a moment, as if to communicate that he saw her pain and wanted to comfort her. Stunned by his unexpected gesture, she twisted to look up at him, and saw raw anguish in his eyes. Maybe he had never experienced a loved one's death, but in her mind, divorce was akin to it. In his own way he understood, or at least by his gesture, he was trying to reach out to her. Tears jammed into Ellen's eyes and she had to look away. All she wanted to do was throw herself in his arms and feel his protective embrace.

The silence was no longer strained, just pregnant with feeling. Ellen was glad that Jim remained near her, a silent gesture of support. It was enough. Tommy Kane had touched them both, as had the story of Susan's traumatic upbringing. Susan had been a good person caught in a bad situation. But what had tipped that precarious balance Susan had always maintained? What?

Tommy cleared his throat and when he spoke, his voice was rough. “That teddy bear was a gift from our mother to Susan. We moved every two years to a new station, so we lost a lot of school friends, and I think it was hardest on Susan. Even as a baby, she knew that teddy bear was from Mama. I swear she did, because if Georgia put the bear in the crib with her, she'd stop crying immediately. Every time. When Susan was old enough to walk, that bear went everywhere with her. The captain tried to shame her out of carrying it around, but she wouldn't give it up.
Susan would jut out that little chin of hers and stare up at him defiantly, holding on to that little fella even more tightly.”