“She looks like shit.” Jordan summed up Christina Owens well.
Owens’s straw-colored hair looked like it hadn’t seen a hairbrush in days—matted in some places, sticking out in others. She’d either worried it into that condition or slept wrong. Greg would bet the former. She’d bitten her nails down to the quick and then some. Her legs hadn’t stopped jiggling in the ten minutes he’d stood with Lani, Pattison, and Jordan in the surveillance room watching her on monitor. Despite the Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, black corduroy pants, and a thermostat set hot as hell, she shivered like a cat shitting peach pits. Her complexion had long since passed pale. She clutched her stomach, rocking to and fro.
“How’d you find her?” Lani sipped her coffee, her gaze focused on the twenty-year-old lance corporal.
She’d chosen brown slacks and loafers with a rust-colored blouse topped off with a matching cardigan. Every strand of her long dark blonde hair was smoothed into a French braid. Greg felt like a slob in comparison, opting for jeans, boots, and a red flannel shirt. He was the scruffy lumberjack and she the silver baron’s daughter. Fighting a smile, Greg tucked that image away for future roleplaying.
“DMV eventually narrowed the license plate of the vehicle on scene as belonging to Staff Sergeant Tipton.” Pattison hoisted his hip to the edge of the gray metal table. “Citizens Patrol found the vehicle at her place. Deputies brought her in and called me. Considering her state of mind, I’m surprised this wasn’t brought to your attention sooner.”
Tension rippled off Lani’s back. “I’m going to presume you aren’t suggesting Master Gunnery Sergeant Landess and I would hide information and simply remind you that MPs have a rotating schedule and this was her regular time off.”
Pattison stuffed his hand in his pocket. “My bad.”
“And for the record, Detective Pattison”—she unleashed her I-am-Marine-Corps-officer tone—“if I were going to hide someone, I could find a much better place than at that individual’s home with the murder victim’s car in the driveway.”
“Duly noted, ma’am.” He pulled out a pair of clippers and snipped at his nails. “My apologies for the insinuation. I’m tired and frustrated. Pissed that the two of you were dragged here in the middle of the night, when all Owens had to do was tell me what she knows. I don’t like playing games.”
Lani tapped her fingernail against the aluminum travel mug. “She’s not playing. She’s scared to death. She made a good call, turning to the person she trusted the most. If Major Kenyon had done that, he might be alive today. I’d like to know why she didn’t step forward sooner.”
Damn fine question.
The door to observation swung open. Juarez walked in. “Heard you got a nibble.”
No one challenged his presence. It was too late—or too early—for crap like that. These were high-profile murders. Everyone would want to know firsthand what had happened. Greg couldn’t fault Juarez for that. Maybe he wasn’t that bad of a detective after all if he cared enough to be here at this hour.
“Damn, she looks all of twelve.” Juarez tsk-tsked. “Sure you got the right person?”
“She’s been bawling for Landess here since deputies picked her up. She sure as hell isn’t the wrong person. I’d like to find out what the fuck she knows, so I can get the hell out of here.” Pattison scored the clippers under his short fingernails, perpetually cleaning what wasn’t there.
“All right.” Greg set his travel mug on the table beside Pattison. “But don’t expect me to trick or trap her. This is all above board, no matter what she has to say.” Which was probably why she’d asked for him in the first place. Greg wouldn’t let her down.
Owens’s head jerked up the second he opened the door. Tears filled her pale blue eyes. She looked like she wanted to jump up and hug him. Oddly, Greg felt the poor little thing could do with a hug right about now. Protocol decreed otherwise.
“You came.” Her chin quivered. “I knew you would. You’d never let any of us down.”
A hard image to live up to. He sat across the table from her and folded his hands before him. “I’m not going to lie to you, Lance Corporal. Captain Hollister, Special Agent Beck, and Detectives Pattison and Juarez are watching the conversation on monitor. It’s not being recorded.”
She pulled her sleeves over her gnawed fingers. “I only wanted you.”
“You’ve got me. It’s a courtesy the sheriff’s office doesn’t allow just anyone. Count yourself lucky our working relationship with them gives you this.”
“You’ll do the right thing?”
Greg frowned. What did she mean by that? How could he have any control here? “I don’t understand.”
She leaned in, her voice low. “I don’t trust officers. They cover each other’s ass all the time. Roger said we could trust you when the time was right.”
Defending Lani wasn’t going to change her mind. All Greg could do was move things forward. “Tell me what’s going on, Lance Corporal.”
She splayed her gnawed fingers on the table. “I don’t know where to start. I saw Major Kenyon leaving that woman’s house last night. He was covered in blood. Covered.”
Why didn’t she call the police? Or check on the welfare of those inside? She’d left the children alone? Greg tried not to corner her or judge…or interrogate. It wasn’t easy.
“Why were you there?” A safe question, one that might give them a little forward momentum.
A deep red flush crawled over her pale skin from the neck up. “Roger was going to watch her kids while I took her to…to get an abortion. I waited in the car. God…” She buried her face in her hands. “We had to wait for the kids to go to sleep. It felt like forever. I sat there reading until it got too dark. I realized it’d been a while. Then I saw him come out, all bloody, barefoot, holding his sneakers. I saw him edge behind the bushes next to the house. I freaked and got the hell out of there. I was scared to death he’d seen me.”
“It was dark. Are you sure it was Major Kenyon?”
She hesitated long enough to let Greg know she wasn’t sure, but then nodded anyway.
“Why didn’t you tell someone?”
“Who’d believe me?” She smeared tears into her hairline. The redness receded to paler than pale. “I knew I should have checked to see if anyone was alive. But all that blood… I couldn’t think straight. He’s my boss. If he knew I was there, he’d know I had evidence that could ruin his career and send him to jail. How did I know he wouldn’t be coming after me next?”
“Besides seeing him leave a murder scene, what kind of evidence?” Greg wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. The dots were connecting on their own.
“There was the drinking, for one. Roger told me he’d started doing a little checking on his own, since it was clear Captain Hollister wasn’t going to do anything. The major seemed awfully interested in Regina Whittaker. Roger buddied up to her at the gym. Regina was upset and crying, told him she was pregnant and begged him for help.”
“And Staff Sergeant Tipton told you all this because…?”
Owens sniffed. “We were sleeping together.”
Of course you were.
“What do I do?” she cried. “The major will ruin me. Kill me.”
“The major is dead. Found in his home yesterday morning.”
Relief slumped her farther in the chair. “Oh thank God.” She snapped upright. “I mean—”
Greg lifted his palm. “I know what you mean.”
“What happens now?” She tugged at her sleeves. “Am I in trouble?”
“I honestly don’t know. The detectives will want to verify your statement, maybe have you walk them through the scene.”
“What about the fraternization?”
Good question. “Well, clearly the word’s out.” Had it been only the two of them as Owens had requested, Greg might have been able to cover her ass. He knew the civilians wouldn’t care, Lani would obviously look the other way, but Jordan was too by the book and had his own career to
watch out for. And there was the general’s decree. “Talking to one of the defense counsels at JAG about that would be a damn good idea.”
“Do I need a lawyer for this other?”
“Lance Corporal Owens, you left the scene of a double murder.”
A hint of anger flashed across her face. “I left in fear for my life.”
“And I suppose you could argue that point. I have no idea how the detectives will proceed. Under the circumstances, I would highly advise you to invoke your rights and ask for a public defender.”
“You’ll stay with me until one gets here?” Her little-girl whine grated on his nerves, but her underlying plea for help was loud and clear.
“I will.” If only to make sure the detectives didn’t convince her to go it alone.
Lani tried not to rub a sudden chill from her arms. The general was going to have a shit hemorrhage when he learned yet another member of their unit—two members—had been sexually fraternizing. She’d be lucky if she had a job by the end of the day. Poor Greg. He’d taken the lead in this task force to protect them and been shot down with the first volley. There wasn’t anything they could do to save Owens. Maybe they shouldn’t try. A sacrifice might wind up saving their own asses.
“Are you going to charge her for leaving the scene?” she asked Pattison.
He hadn’t left his perch on the table, his attention riveted to the monitor and every word and move from Owens. “I can’t see the point. She was in fear for her life. It’ll be up to the district attorney, though. Once the lawyer arrives and settles, we’ll need to go through her statement step-by-step, verify everything.”
“Frankly, I’m relieved.” Jordan crumpled the soda can in his fist and tossed it into the corner trashcan. “I was scared to death we had a serial killer targeting yellow ribbon houses.”
Pattison gave a halfhearted snort. “How in the hell did you manage to take that leap?”
“It was one of the two things both houses had in common; the other being dead PMO personnel. I spent most of the night researching the Internet and crime databases for any other crimes associated with yellow ribbons. Nine million yellow ribbon hits, two million of them related to sex, two-thirds of that related to crime because we use yellow tape to seal the scene.”
Juarez’s cackle was so loud, Lani expected Greg could hear it in the next room. “In other words, a waste of time. I can’t believe you dreamed up a serial killer rather than face the reality this was a love affair gone awry.”
Jordan whirled around on the other man, anger twisting his face. At the same time, she and Pattison put themselves between him and Juarez.
“Stand down.” She lightly pressed Jordan’s shoulder. He didn’t budge.
“I didn’t dream up anything.” He stabbed his finger at Juarez. “I was thinking of all possibilities. It’s called detective work, asshole.”
Juarez muscled his way past Pattison. “Then think of this possibility…” He gestured wildly, nearly clipping Lani’s cheek. “Your girl in there ain’t lily white.”
The door opened behind her. “Problem?” Greg slipped into the middle of things with such ease, Lani doubted no one noticed but her. A touch to her elbow asked her to move away. That subtle I’ve got this.
“Damn straight,” Juarez shouted, then bore down on Jordan again. Greg blocked his way.
“How do you know she wasn’t in on this with Kenyon?” Juarez stabbed his finger toward Jordan. “Maybe Tipton and Whittaker were knocking boots on the side, and Kenyon and Owens got jealous. Maybe Tipton and Whittaker were going to take off, and Tipton tried to stop them. Maybe your little lance corporal saw or did it all and realized she had the perfect opportunity to off a man who could ruin her career. With Kenyon drunk, how difficult would it have been for her to slip him a lethal dose of sleeping pills?”
“And that’s more plausible than a serial killer?” Jordan’s voice came up two octaves.
Juarez looked up. His lips moved with his silent count of the ceiling tiles. “Look,” he finally said, “you all accuse me of not looking outside the box. Maybe you’re looking too far outside it. I screwed up at the first murder scene. I have no excuse. I saw what I wanted to see and jumped to conclusions. Is that really what you want to do with Kenyon’s death? Suicide? I made that leap with Tipton and was wrong. I’m not saying that slip of a girl was capable of killing Tipton and Whittaker, but she did have motive for wanting Kenyon gone and the opportunity to do so.”
“I don’t believe it.” Jordan jerked his head toward the room where Owens sat. “She had no idea Major Kenyon was dead.”
Juarez’s sad eyes focused on Greg alone. “People lie, especially those with a reason to do so. Something doesn’t fit. I’m going to figure out what it is.”
“God help us all,” Pattison groaned.
Juarez’s glare didn’t make it over his shoulder. He straightened his tie and walked out without another word.
“I’d try to rein him in if I thought it’d do any good.” Pattison returned to his spot on the table and rubbed at his forehead.
“I don’t know.” Jordan stared into space. “He has a point. Something doesn’t fit.”
Lani hated to admit that. God knew there was no love lost between her and Juarez, and he generally sucked as a detective. But he might be onto something here. Owens made no apparent attempt to call . For being so afraid and trusting Greg as much as she claimed, Owens never once tried to contact him until the deputies brought her in. She was a friendly, outgoing woman, always on the go, and for the last twenty-four hours, she’d presumably gone off the grid. Hiding in her house—again presumably—in fear for her life with Tipton’s car in her driveway, making a clear target of herself. Why not run? Why not go to Palm Springs or Vegas or hold out at a hotel?
“She’s lying,” Lani and Greg said at the same time.
“Or at the very least, not telling the whole truth,” Lani added.
“She sure as hell is.” Pattison traced his thumb over his nails, testing his impromptu manicure. “She says she saw Kenyon leave. I checked the area, same as the rest of you, and no trail stood out.”
“Then maybe we need to check again,” Jordan said.
Pattison’s mouth tightened. He folded his hands on his thighs and lifted cold eyes to Jordan. “Perhaps we should.”
Tension ratcheted in the room. The silent battle of wills crackled over Lani’s skin.
“It never hurts to double-check, especially in a case where the information is piecemeal and twisted into so many possibilities.” Greg’s tone dissipated the mounting testosterone. “We’re all over Juarez to be diligent; we can expect no less than that of ourselves.”
No one responded. Instead they looked at the young woman huddled in the other room. Owens rested her head on the table, her arms clutched around her midriff, her legs finally still. A wince scrunched her face. That telltale sign any woman would recognize. But this pain was well beyond monthly cramps.
“I think I know the real reason she’s been locked up in her house. Time for a little woman-to-woman. Off the record, of course.”
No one tried to stop Lani when she went into the interview room. Owens lifted bleary eyes her way when Lani sat across from her, then started to stand.
“As you were, Lance Corporal.”
Owens stayed seated. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“I’m going to cut right to the chase, Lance Corporal Owens.” They’d had a long enough night, and if what Lani suspected was true, Christina Owens was better off in bed, preferably one in a hospital. “Regina Whittaker wasn’t the only one scheduled to have an abortion that night, was she?”
Owens shook her head. Tears that had pooled in her eyes ran to the edges of her cheeks. “No, ma’am.”
“You’re going to need to provide the name and address of the place where you had the procedure.”
“Alibi?”
“Yes. Did you see Major Kenyon leave the Whittaker house?”
“Yes, ma’am. A
ll the rest is true. I saw him arrive. He was hiding in the rosemary bushes next to the house. I knew we weren’t going to be leaving anytime soon. I waited and waited. Then he came out carrying his sneakers, and I knew what had gone down. I got out of there. I had to keep this appointment. It was the only one I could get before it was too late.”
“Why didn’t you tell Master Gunnery Sergeant Landess that from the outset?”
“I…” She licked her lips. “I don’t know. The guys say you can tell him anything, but when he sat in that chair, I guess I felt that I couldn’t tell him everything. At least not something so personal, so bad about myself. Especially considering all the shoptalk about him. You know…because of the thing and all.”
Shoptalk? The thing? What the hell was she talking about? Lani wasn’t sure she wanted clarification with Pattison and Jordan hanging on every word.
“Then when I heard you were here listening from the surveillance room…”
Fuck, she knew! The marines were talking about her and Greg. Maybe Tipton had lumped them into his private investigation on Kenyon.
Owens shook her head. “I’ve done one stupid thing after the other the last several months. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror. I left them all there. Just left. What the hell kind of person does that make me? I never checked. I never called for help. It was so much easier to tell Master Gunnery Sergeant Landess I was scared than to tell him I left because I didn’t give a damn about anything other than myself.” She shrugged. “But it’s not like I could have helped them anyway, right?”
Lani wanted to tell Owens how a five-year-old had the presence of mind to check on her mother when the turmoil died down. Of how, after seeing her mother’s mutilated body, said five-year-old then called and kept watch over her younger sister. But what purpose would it serve? Owens would hear about it soon enough and was going to have to live with the guilt for the rest of her life.
“Your attorney should be here shortly. I’d advise you to be forthright with him or her.”
“Actually, ma’am. If it’s all the same to you, I’d really prefer a doctor right now.” Lani watched as Lance Corporal Owens toppled to the floor, unconscious.
Yellow Ribbons Page 10
