Page 3 of Hostile Witness
Tia tried to sit up, but the woman said, “Whoa, you’ve just had quite a shock. Let’s wait for the gurney and the fellas.” Feeling Tia’s forehead, she smiled. “Do you remember where you are, honey?”
“Yeah. I was on a ride along with an officer, big guy.” What the heck was his name? She honestly couldn’t remember right now.
“Yes, Detective Kelley. Do you remember what happened?”
“There was so much blood. I needed to use the bathroom, and I think I hurled on the guy.” She must’ve, because her mouth was sour. Heated embarrassment crept up her neck, scalding her cheeks.
“You walked in on an awful scene. Fact is, we haven’t had a murder around here in five years. In this ocean-resort community, we usually deal with drunk vacationers, speeding violations, and a few domestics. My name’s Odessa Wright. I’m a police officer, but I was a nurse first, so when anyone needs a band-aid, they call on me.”
Odessa surveyed the busy yard, shook her head, and muttered, “Here comes Dr. Fletcher. Don’t pay him any mind.”
Tia listened intently to a man yelling aboutsomeonepuking on his crime scene. She moaned and forced herself up to see the man in question waving his arms while shouting a colorful stream of accusatory words at Detective Kelley and the K9 cop.
Two paramedics arrived with a stretcher, and Odessa moved to give them room. “Miss O’Rourke, Chief Carson insists a physician check you out before you go home.” Tia rolled her eyes at Odessa, who shook her head reassuringly and smiled.
“Just tell my uncle I’m fine. A little shook up is all. I don’t need to go to the hospital.” She anchored her feet on the driveway and stood, gripping the cruiser door for balance. The paramedics glanced at Odessa.
The older attendant spoke up. “Miss, we don’t want to tell the chief you refused medical attention. He’s already concerned that he sent you on a ride along to a tragic crime scene. It’s a smart idea to get evaluated by a professional.”
Tia waved them away. “I’m okay, see? Just let me stand here.” If they’d only give her a little space, she’d be fine. Her body wobbled slightly to the left, and the younger paramedic stepped closer.
Odessa peered into Tia’s eyes. “Here, honey, bend at the waist, and keep your head down. You’ll feel more stable in a minute.”
Tia rested her hands on her thighs and kept her head low to appease Odessa. Her pants were soaked almost to the knees. The realization set in that she had not only doused the officer with breakfast but peed herself to boot. The whole department would know she’d managed to contaminate a crime scene with bodily fluids, of all things. What a nightmare. This would make for epic-proportion gossip at the precinct.
On a startled gasp, she remembered where she’d seen Detective Kelley before. It was the beach bonfire the spring of her sophomore year in high school. Her cheeks flamed as she glanced his way. Yeah, that was him all right. He’d changed a lot in fifteen years. The boy she’d made out with under a blanket had grown a lot taller, bulked up, and become a man.
Officer Wright broke into her reverie. “It won’t take that long to get evaluated since you’ll be arriving in an ambulance, Tia.”
Oh, what the hell... she needed a ride out of this place anyway. It wasn’t like she was qualified to help, and the embarrassment of standing on the sidelines with wet pants was more than she could bear. One paramedic helped her onto the gurney, and the other fastened the safety straps.
In the short bumpy ride to the ambulance, Tia counted seven police and fire vehicles, including the one markedCoronerin bold black letters. That poor woman on the rug and that valiant bloodied dog. Who would do such a thing? What would become of the woman’s dog?
3
Ethan spent hours working on the report for the homicide on Glen Cove Road. It turned out the victim was Lieutenant Marjorie Plante, originally from the Bronx. Fifty-seven years old at TOD. Retired twenty months ago with honors. She’d started her career in patrol and worked her way up the ranks. She had thirty-five years of outstanding service in New York and had inherited the house on Glen Cove Road from her parents.
She’d been an only child and had decided to keep the house and move to the eastern shore of Maryland because she loved golf, the beach, and riding her ATVs. Married in 1986, then divorced in 1992. She’d never remarried. No kids. Her partner was a police dog named Flynn. They’d worked together for five years in narcotics until she’d pensioned out.Hmm.Flynn had taken a bullet to the hip during a drug bust ten months before she’d retired. He was effectively retired because of a lingering limp. They’d both worked in the NYPD Cadet Corps for their final nine months on duty. He whistled low and long while glancing over her financial statements. She had amassed quite a retirement between her police benefits, her IRAs, and the sale of the brownstone she’d owned in New York. Was she dirtysomewhere along the road to retirement? Or simply a smart, professional woman who’d managed her money well? After discovering six pages of awards and accolades she’d received, he concluded it was the latter.
This woman was a beloved legend in New York. He scanned the pages listing her volunteer work off the job and learned of several cancer centers, a Little League sponsorship in the name of her narcotics squad, a homeless shelter, and a battered women’s residence. She’d cooked and served Thanksgiving dinner for twenty-eight years at the homeless shelter.
Ethan rubbed his face. How many enemies had Margie Plante acquired during thirty-five years of service on the right side of the law? Had anyone made threats against her? Hell, he’d already collected a dozen or more enemies in only ten years. How many threats would a woman of this caliber receive over several decades?
A smile tugged at his lips when he read that she’d landed only one Internal Affairs probe with her name on it. Allegedly, she’d tackled a drug suspect and smashed him with a ripe pineapple obtained from a street stand after he’d shot her K9, Flynn. And yes, the report included details of very colorful language used in the same assault. The investigation was completed and no charges filed. The lieutenant must’ve exercised tremendous self-control to hurl a pineapple at him instead of using her baton. She could have done some damage with the baton.
Perusing a copy of her will, he noted that her estate was slated for liquidation and all monies to be split between the homeless shelter and women’s home where she’d volunteered in New York. The next page listed her funeral arrangement wishes. Burial would be at Magnolia Park cemetery next to her parents. The plot? Already paid for. She’d left a hefty stipend for the care of her K9.Of course she had.This woman dotted her i’s and crossed the t’s.
Considering the lieutenant’s stellar reputation, the NYPD brass would drive to the Eastern Shore of Maryland for her funeral. Had she prewritten an obituary? He had to find out because New York was already nudging the department for funeral details.
Satisfied with the facts, Ethan leaned back in his chair, his thoughts drifting. Why had Tia O’Rourke hesitated to go on the ride along with him? Had she figured out who he was? Possibly. He’d recognized her when he’d stowed his gear in the cruiser trunk and the sun had shimmered a gold hue on her red hair like that day on the beach when they were teenagers. How long ago was that? Maybe the spring he’d graduated from high school?
If only the cops hadn’t shown up and raided the bonfire that evening long ago. There had to have been fifty kids there, most of them underage, and the kegs had flowed like fountains for hours. He’d spun around to grab her hand so they could run together, but she’d already been gone. Every time he and Mac had hit the beach that summer, he’d secretly hoped to see her again but never had.
Nah, she hadn’t recognized him yesterday. He’d keep his mouth shut and the memory to himself. She probably had someone special in her life now.
4
Tia shoved the test papers aside and rubbed the crick in her neck. Who was knocking on her front door? She’d fallen asleep on the couch.
