Hostile Witness (Sanctuary, Inc. #1)

Chapter 3

3

E than 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 dirty somewhere 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.