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Authors: Lindsay McKenna

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Cochrane drove out of the parking lot. “Captain Oliver was being politically correct—say nothing bad about anyone. That's the big windy, you know? Shit happens all the time on this station, but you'll never hear of it or see it in the newspaper. The Navy, like any other service or corporation, has airtight compartments on disasters. They know how to keep everyone in line. If people speak out, their career is finished. That's a pretty heavy threat, Ellen, and it works very well in most cases.”

“This is like a Dark Ages code of silence. I mean, Captain Oliver didn't give us anything at all.”

“The Captain gave us information that couldn't hurt him or his career. My bet is that all the pilots we interview are going to pull the ‘hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil' response.”

“If Captain Oliver is typical, we're in trouble before we even start.”

“Reckon I've heard that before,” Cochrane drawled as he pulled into the parking lot of the Officers' Club. “And yet, I like figuring out puzzles, Ellen. Come on, let's go eat. I'm a starving cow brute.”

“Cow brute?”

He grinned as they walked toward the entrance of the O Club. “Ozarks lingo for a bull.”

 

L
IEUTENANT
A
NN
H
AWKINS
, one of Susan Kane's companions on the last night she was alive, wiped her palms on her uniform skirt as she stepped inside the office.

“Come on in,” Cochrane invited with a friendly drawl.

The woman nodded. “I'm Lieutenant Hawkins.”

“Lieutenant Cochrane,” he said, standing and shaking her hand. “This is my partner, Agent Ellen Tanner from OIG. Have a seat and we'll get started.”

Shutting the door, Ann sat down in front of the desk, while they sat opposite. “This is about Susan Kane's death, isn't it?”

“That's right,” Cochrane said.

“How did Susan die? Did someone hurt her? Was it murder?”

Jim saw the raw grief, the shock in Hawkins's reddened eyes. “We don't know yet, Lieutenant. That's what we're trying to find out right now.”

“We heard about it from Captain Oliver the day it happened. I just can't believe it.”

“Lieutenant, I have to run through some legal matters with you in regards to this investigation of Lieutenant Kane's death.”

Ann wiped tears from her eyes. “I—I'm sorry,” she murmured, digging for a tissue from her pocket.

“That's okay, Lieutenant. Take your time. Had you any contact with Lieutenant Kane on the day preceding her death, June 21st?”

“No, I was off duty and away from home the entire day.”

“No contact of any type on the day in question or in the early morning hours of the following day, June 22nd?” Jim repeated.

“None.”

“What can you tell us about Susan, Lieutenant Hawkins?”

Sniffing, Ann whispered, “She was my best friend. My very best friend.”

“How long had you known her?”

“We met back at Pensacola years ago.”

“Tell us about your relationship,” Ellen Tanner urged gently. She glanced at Jim as if to get his silent approval to ask questions. He nodded in response. Heartened by his support, she returned her attention to Hawkins.

Ann sniffed and blotted her eyes again. “Susan wasn't the kind to complain. She didn't confide in many people, but she trusted me for some reason. I don't know why. You see, Susan always knew she was being watched.”

“Watched?” Ellen asked. In a way, this felt like a therapy session between her and a patient. Interviewing wasn't so different or difficult. She felt a swell of quiet confidence over that realization.

“Yes, the male pilots watched her because she was a woman. Susan knew she had to do everything better than a man in order to be accepted and get passing grades. She was so smart. Susan always achieved 4.0s in whatever she undertook. She was a role model for all women who tried to follow in her footsteps.”

“Did she date or socialize with any officer here on the station?”

“Not that I know of. She used what little spare time she had to volunteer. If a group of school kids came to tour our facility, Susan was always the first to volunteer and talk to them, to take time out of her schedule to accommodate them. She also volunteered at the San Diego Zoo.”

“I see. What can you tell us about Susan Kane's lifestyle?” In her gut, Ellen felt this information was important, but her partner looked bored. As a psychologist, she knew that family dynamics set a person up for life. This was her bread and butter. If she was going to become a good investigator, she had to use the tools and skills she had at her disposal.

“You mean her family?” Ann's mouth pulled downward. “Her father, Robert Kane, is a retired Navy captain. He put in twenty-four years and was a fighter pilot. Since he retired, Susan told me, he's made a fortune in the stock market. She has two brothers. Brad Kane is a lieutenant commander and Tommy Kane is a lieutenant. They're both Super Hornet pilots serving aboard different carriers.”

“So it's a Navy family,” Ellen said. “The father was a pilot and all three children followed in his footsteps. What about Susan's mother? Do you know much about her?”

“It's sad, to tell you the truth. Her real mother, Rachel Kane, died giving birth to Susan. Her father remarried six months later.”

“Six months?” Ellen blurted.

Ann nodded. “I think it was a marriage of convenience. As a Navy pilot, Robert Kane was out at sea six to sixteen months at a stretch. He either had to marry the first woman who came along to take care of his three children, farm them out to relatives, or give up his career and raise the kids by himself.”

“Isn't that a pretty harsh judgment of him?” Cochrane inquired, hearing the anger and tightness in Hawkins's voice.

“Susan told me many times that her father was the ultimate Navy pilot. He was an ace in the closing days of the Vietnam War and made his one hundred missions. At the time of her mother's death, he wasn't there,
which can be typical for pilots who are deployed on a carrier in the middle of some ocean. From the Navy's perspective, Kane's mission was far more important than the mere birth of a child.”

“How awful for Susan,” Ellen murmured.

“It was,” Ann whispered, wiping her eyes. “Her stepmother, Georgia Huntington, was a Southern socialite. Susan grew up learning politics from her stepmother. Georgia caught on to Navy politics real fast. And she was the consummate Navy wife to Robert.”

“How did Georgia get along with his children?” Ellen wondered.

“She got along well with the boys. She was indifferent to Susan. All three children grew up in Robert Kane's shadow. Frankly, I don't think either Georgia or Robert particularly liked having children.”

“Did Georgia see Susan as competition?” Ellen asked.

With a sigh, Ann said, “Let me put it this way—Robert Kane hated his daughter.”

“Why?” Cochrane asked. “It's not uncommon for a Navy father to be away on deployments. Being removed from the family wouldn't mean he hated his children.”

Ann turned to him. “It's pretty simple, really. Susan killed his wife, the woman he loved. He never forgave her for that.”

“I'm confused,” Ellen interrupted. “How did Susan kill her mother?”

“Rachel Kane was thirty-two years old when she got pregnant with Susan.” Ann wiped her eyes. “She was young and healthy and yet she died during her daughter's delivery. Robert held Susan responsible.”

“He shouldn't have blamed her for something she couldn't control,” Ellen responded.

“Worse yet, one of Susan's brothers accepted his father's logic.”

“How do you know that?” Cochrane asked pointedly.

“Because Susan told me. After many years of friendship, she let out a little bit here and there about her family. I remember one day I finally got her to go over to La Jolla for a break. The beach became her favorite place, you know. She loved the ocean. That day, Susan was really depressed, and I couldn't get out of her what was wrong. We picked up some fast food from a restaurant and took a blanket and a bottle of wine along. As the sun set on the ocean, Susan began to talk about her life, her family.”

Ann took a shaky breath. “When we returned from the beach, the subject was closed and never brought up again, no matter how I tried to approach her.” She gazed at them, no longer trying to stop the tears from falling. “Susan was a pariah, an outcast, in her own family. The only one who stayed in touch with her was Tommy, the younger brother.”

“How awful for Susan,” Ellen murmured.

“Yes,” Ann said, her voice off-key. “It was unfair. Su
san had done nothing to earn her father and older brother's anger and hatred. But I'll tell you something—Susan paid for her mother's death in so many ways that it made me sick. I—I don't know if I'll be able to restrain myself from decking both Robert and Brad Kane at Susan's funeral.” She grimaced. “They may not show up. It wouldn't surprise me if they didn't. I'm sure Tommy will be there, and I know Susan's other friends will come to tell her goodbye.”

“What about Susan's stepmother, Georgia?” Ellen asked.

“Georgia died some time ago,” Ann said bitterly. “Susan was at Pensacola. She got a call from her father telling her she didn't have to come home for the funeral.”

Ellen gasped. “How terrible!”

Ann studied the investigator for a moment. “Maybe, but Susan went anyway—out of duty. She had a very strict and high code of honor and ethics. She did the right thing, regardless of how some family members felt. Susan was the most courageous person I've ever met. But a person can only take so much hurt, for so long.”

“Susan served as the family scapegoat,” Ellen suggested. She saw Ann's eyes flash with anger.
Bingo!
Excited, Ellen felt she had a much better understanding of Susan. And Jim's nod of approval made her heart soar.

“You hit the nail on the head. Susan paid for every transgression that ever went down in that family.”

“Did Susan's father verbalize those things to her?” Ellen inquired as she rubbed her forehead.

“Many times. Susan was continually reminded of it when her dad was rotated back to a station from carrier duty. When it was her real mother's birthday, her father always got drunk, and when Robert Kane was drunk, he got mean.”

“It sounds as though Robert continued to love Rachel very much,” Ellen ventured.

“I'm sure he did,” Ann said, bitterness tingeing her voice. “For eighteen years Susan endured her dead mother's birthday and the drunken rages of her father.”

Ellen said sympathetically, “How unfair.”

“Other than Tommy, her grandmother Inez was the only close family member who didn't hold her responsible for her mother's death. She felt the tragedy was an act of God and that no rational person could ever blame a child. When her grandmother died four years ago, she left Susan the bulk of her estate—probably close to a million dollars.”

“That's why she could afford that expensive condo,” Ellen said, giving Cochrane a telling look.

Jim raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment.

“She didn't need the Navy for financial reasons. Susan was out to prove she was the best.” Ann shrugged. “A lesser person would have buckled under, given that kind of family pressure, but she didn't.” Lieutenant Hawkins stared defiantly at Cochrane. “Susan was a very strong woman. A good person who did right by
others regardless of how they dealt with her. Susan didn't have enemies, only people who were jealous, envious or competitive toward her.”

Cochrane nodded. “I see. Reckon you've given us some good background information, Lieutenant Hawkins.” He handed her his business card. “If you think of anything else that might help in solving this case, give me a call?”

Ann glanced at the card. “Yes, I will.” She took a deep breath. “Susan's funeral is set for Monday afternoon. From what the station chaplain said, she's going to be buried over at La Jolla. Susan would like that. Are you going to be there?”

Cochrane nodded and rose. “You can probably count on her funeral going down at that time. The M.E. is just about done with his findings. And yes, we'll be at her funeral.”

Grimly, Ann stood up and smoothed her skirt, slipping the business card in her pocket. “Do me a favor, then?”

“What?”

“Check out Robert and Brad Kane if they show up. They're a real set of bookends. I've never met them personally, but it'll be interesting to see if they mourn her death. I doubt they will.” She gave the investigators a stony look and exited.

CHAPTER SIX

E
LLEN'S HEART TUGGED
at the sight of the coffin. She stood with Cochrane, removed from the group somberly gathered at the sun-washed grave site. Susan Kane's funeral was over and approximately forty people, including the three Kane men, were dispersing.

“Who's first to be interviewed, Jim?” she added, sidling a glance at her partner.

“Lieutenant Commander Brad Kane. Come on, let's mosey.”

On the way over to the Marriott Hotel Cochrane glanced at her. “For a hound hunting for a scent, you're awfully quiet,” he observed. He'd seen the stress at the corners of her soft, full mouth.

“Funerals don't do a whole lot for me,” she answered in a low voice.

“I understand.” He frowned and gave her an apologetic look. Ellen was obviously struggling with emotions. “You okay?” Without thinking, he reached over and squeezed her shoulder. He tried to tell himself he'd done it out of sympathy. It was that—and more. Being
around Ellen was rapidly dismantling every wall he'd erected after the divorce. He released her shoulder.

“As okay as I can be.” Her skin radiated heat where he'd made contact with her. “What's this, Mr. Cochrane? A little care? A little humanity?”

“Didn't think I had any in these nasty bones of mine, did you?” He said it in jest to lift her sagging spirits. Jim found himself wanting to make Ellen smile.

She folded her hands on her light blue cotton skirt. “You've got a lot of hard edges, Jim, but I know you mean well.”

“I've earned every one of 'em. They're bought and paid for.”

She studied his profile briefly. “You have a gruff facade, but underneath are feelings and a conscience. You just hide them well.” Looking at the grassy lawns and pastel stucco homes they passed, Ellen said, “I feel like I knew Susan Kane. I cried for her. She was a nice person and her death seems like such a waste.”

“Dying's always a waste.”

“Were you touched by the service?”

“Funerals are for the living, not the dead.”

“Always the cynic, Mr. Cochrane.” Ellen shook her head.

“On some things, I am. Let's focus on these interviews, shall we? That could turn up some answers on why Susan is dead.”

 

C
OCHRANE KNOCKED ON THE
hotel room door, and in a few moments, Lieutenant Commander Brad Kane greeted him.

“Yes?” The man demanded in a deep, impatient voice. He possessed the same square jaw as the elder Kane, his black brows straight and thick across pale blue eyes. There was an aloof quality to Brad, but then, a lot of carrier pilots thought they were special.

Cochrane held his credentials in front of the officer. “I'm Lieutenant Cochrane and this is Agent Tanner. May we come in?”

Kane stepped aside only after he'd raked them with a glare. “You're coming in whether I want you to or not.”

“We could do this at another time, if this isn't convenient,” Cochrane offered.

“No. Let's get this the hell over with.”

Cochrane heard the tension and bitterness in Brad's voice as he checked out the hotel room. A small duffel bag sat on the neatly made bed. An acrid odor permeated the room, and he saw a smoking cigar balanced across a drinking glass on the table. Brad Kane didn't seem to care that this was a non-smoking room.

Kane stood stiffly by the door after he closed it, surveying them as if they were enemies. Cochrane supposed they were, in one sense. The officer was about six feet tall, physically fit, and Cochrane guessed that most women would find him heart-stoppingly handsome, with those frosty blue eyes, strong nose and imperious mouth—the picture-poster image of the Naval aviator ideal.

“Let's make this short, Lieutenant. I've got a hop to catch.”

“I know,” Cochrane said, pulling out a set of papers. He'd seen Kane's fingers tremble briefly on the cigar, but that wasn't unusual. Landing a multimillion dollar machine on a carrier deck made a lot of pilots' hands shake.

Jim sat down at the table and spread the papers out before him. When he put the small tape recorder between them and glanced up, he saw Kane's icy look change to a laserlike glare.

“Is that necessary?” Kane demanded.

“I'm afraid it is, Commander. We don't pretend to rely on our memories.”

“Let's just get this over with then.”

Cochrane remained unruffled as the aviator spun around and stalked toward the door. For a man who had just lost his sister, Brad wasn't exactly the epitome of grief-stricken. Ellen sat down to take notes and observe his questioning technique of Kane.

“When was the last time you were in contact with your sister, Commander?”

“Telephone, letter or in person?”

“Doesn't matter. Any or all of the above.” Cochrane held the officer's pointed, angry look.

With an exasperated sound, Brad jammed the cigar into the corner of his mouth and settled his hands tensely on his hips. “It was a long time ago, Lieutenant Cochrane. I don't remember exactly when.”

Cochrane held on to his anger. The aviator was purposefully being vague, but Jim had experienced this tactic during many investigations. “Commander, can you be more specific as to what type of contact you had most recently with Susan?”

Puffing strongly on the cigar, so more clouds of smoke drifted around his head, Kane snarled, “A letter from her, I guess. Maybe six months ago.”

“Do you still have the letter?” Cochrane inquired smoothly.

“Hell no! I live out on a carrier, mister. Even you shore huggers know there's no room on board for many personal effects.”

Cochrane remained impervious to the man's agitation. “Do you remember the contents of the letter?”

“Of course not! Six months is a damn long time in my business.”

Ellen coughed, stood up and went to stand next to the window. With her fingers against her throat, she said, “Commander, do you remember the tone of Susan's letter?”

His thin lips clamped the cigar. “No. Just what the hell does this have to do with her dying?”

“We're trying to find out the circumstances of your sister's death,” Ellen said more firmly, then coughed again. “And we're not sure it's suicide yet.”

Kane sucked heavily on the cigar and turned on his heel. “Susan and I weren't in touch with each other very much at all. I saw her in person two years ago, but that's the last time.”

“Commander,” Ellen said gently, breaking the tension, “do you know if Susan had a significant other?”

“If she did, I wasn't privy to that information.”

“Was she a lesbian?” Cochrane asked.

“Just what the hell kind of question is that?” Kane's face went black with fury.

Cochrane held the officer's angry stare. “Just answer the question, sir.”

“I don't know.” The words came out like ice shattering.

“Aren't you interested in how your sister died?” Cochrane asked.

Brad jammed the cigar back into his mouth and bit down on it, his teeth barred. “Not particularly. The Red Cross contacted me and said she'd died. It wasn't until I arrived stateside that I heard it could have been a suicide or a murder.”

Cochrane reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo. He stood and walked over to the pilot. “Here, take a look.” He thrust out the color picture of Susan dead, on her bed, holding the teddy bear.

Kane blanched visibly as he stared at it. He refused to take it, even though Cochrane continued to hold it out to him. His eyes widened momentarily, flaring with surprise. “Jesus H. Christ!” he snarled, and turned away. “That's enough, Lieutenant!”

Jim heard the strain in the aviator's baritone voice. So, Kane was affected.

Jim placed the photo back in his shirt pocket. “What does the teddy bear mean?”

His face taut, Kane swung around as if stung. “Get out of here,” he rasped. “Get the hell out.”

Cochrane held his ground. “Not until you tell us what that stuffed bear means, Commander.”

Kane looked over at Tanner, and then back at Cochrane. He took the cigar out of his mouth, and his broad, proud shoulders slumped. “The bear was a gift from our birth mother to Susan. She bought the damn thing before Susan was born. She said every child should have a stuffed toy, a friend, something to be close to. When things went wrong, Susan would always hold the bear and cry.”

“I find it odd she'd die with the bear in her arms, don't you?” Cochrane asked.

Small beads of sweat covered Kane's furrowed brow, and he was breathing erratically. His blue eyes were stormy and filled with an emotion Cochrane couldn't fathom. He waited patiently as Kane wrestled with what were obviously violent feelings.

“Susan dragged that damn thing around with her everywhere.” With a muffled curse, Kane moved around him and went over to the bed where his travel bag sat. “I'm concluding this interview, Lieutenant Cochrane.” Glancing at his watch, he snapped, “And I've got a plane to catch.” He doused the cigar in the water glass and threw the strap of his bag across his left shoulder. “First,” he said frostily, “I'm going to say goodbye to my father. If you have anything else to ask, you can contact me on the carrier. Is that clear?”

Cochrane walked to the table and put his pen down on the papers. “Perfectly, Commander. Thank you for your time. Tell your father we'll be up shortly to interview him.” Jim shut off the tape recorder.

Kane walked to the door, jerked it open and left.

After the officer departed, Ellen ventured, “Wow! One hell of a interview! I never expected that kind of reaction. Did you?”

“No, I didn't. But Ann Hawkins warned us, you know.”

“Yes, she did.” Frowning, Ellen said, “Don't you find it odd that Brad hadn't been in touch with Susan recently? Doesn't it make sense that if she was suicidal, she'd automatically reach out to her family?”

“Normally, I'd say yes. But if the family didn't love her, as Hawkins claimed…”

Ellen snorted.

“Most families aren't fairy-tale perfect, you know,” he added.

“I find it impossible to believe that one of these three men didn't know what was happening with Susan. Don't you?”

Cochrane looked at his watch. “I don't know yet. I'm going to give Robert Kane another ten minutes before we walk up to the fifth floor. It's my guess that retired Captain Kane doesn't like meeting people earlier than scheduled.” Jim studied Ellen. “Judging from what Hawkins told us about the Kane family yesterday, I don't think we should automatically assume Susan contacted them.”

With a fierce shake of her head, Ellen muttered, “I find it impossible to believe she didn't contact at least one of them.”

Rising, Cochrane said, “Well, let's find out, shall we?”

They found Robert Kane's room on the fifth floor, and Jim knocked. When the door finally opened, he saw a man in his early sixties, his steel-gray hair military short. He had a long, narrow face, with a pronounced scar on the left side of his brow. Like his son, he was about six feet tall, his expensive suit made him look taller. Lines of age—from the crow's-feet at the corners of his eyes to the slash marks that bracketed his mouth—suggested that this man had weathered a lot of life. Kane's flesh had a decided pallor and his nose was slightly red. Cochrane wondered if he'd been drinking before the funeral, though he smelled nothing on his breath.

“Yes?” The man's voice was low and brittle.

“I'm Lieutenant Cochrane and this is Agent Tanner. We're here to interview you about your daughter's death. May we come in?”

Kane stepped aside. “Why not?” he said with a note of sarcasm. As they entered the room, Kane walked over to the window and looked out toward the bright California sun. “This is a disaster. A disaster.” He watched Cochrane turn on the tape recorder.

“In what way, Mr. Kane?” Ellen asked in a gentle, searching tone. She was gun-shy after Brad's interview.
Was his father just like him? In any case, she figured a soft approach might be better.

He glanced across his shoulder briefly. “My daughter has shamed our good family name. My two sons, now serving, may suffer from her failure.”

Cochrane looked at Ellen, whose mouth had dropped open. She quickly snapped it shut, disbelief etched in her expression. “We're sorry that it happened, Mr. Kane,” he said. “From all appearances, your daughter was an exemplary naval officer.”

“Yes,” Ellen added, through gritted teeth, “she accomplished more than most men.”

Kane's steel-gray brows knit and he turned toward them, his hands clasped in front of him. “Susan could never do anything right. Ever. This is just another example of her botched performance.”

Jim held the pen steady in his hand. A swell of anger rose, but he quickly tamped it down. “Did she have any enemies?”

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