Open Wounds (9 page)

Chapter 14

Amelia sat on the edge of her desk, facing Darryl and Kellie, whose diamond stud earrings winked in the sunlight that streamed through the large embankment of windows directly behind them, the long cream roller blinds drawn half way, giving off just enough daylight without blinding.

Coleani had surprised her. He’d not at all been what she’d expected but there’d been no mistaking the coldness of his eyes or the arrogance of his position, which he’d achieved by killing his former mentor and gaining control of his organisation. Coleani had built on the small following until he had an empire, with young guppies ready to do his bidding.

“Doyle said that when they followed Lambert home last night he was greeted as a conquering hero at his complex. Both he and Matthews agree that they’re more of Coleani’s men.”

Kellie frowned. “They won’t talk,” she stated unnecessarily, one hand on her hip.

Amelia wanted to clobber her old friend. Ever since they had returned from Coleani’s restaurant she had been a woman on a crusade
—
a dangerous one, at that. Amelia didn’t like whatever was going through Kellie’s mind and she’d have to keep a close eye on her if she had any plans on keeping her safe. Right now, she was her own worst enemy and messing around in Coleani’s business was a sure way of getting shot.

“Yes, we know that, Kellie, but our main objective here is to bring Butler and Benedict’s killer to justice. That’s what we’re paid to do,” she said, trying to reason with a woman who didn’t want to be placated. “I understand that by bringing in Lambert we’re really not helping anyone. But at the moment, arresting Coleani is out of the question.”

Kellie gave her a stormy glare that chilled her.

She wanted to scream. What did she want her to do?
If I could get away with it, I’d walk down to Coleani’s this very second and put a bullet through his head.

Anger flushed her face and zinged through her blood. Her already short temper frayed to the point of snapping. Agitated, she clenched her jaw in an effort to avoid saying something she’d regret. Kellie always brought out the protective side of her. She could understand her frustration, as they had shared the same childhoods. Together, they had seen the worst humankind could offer. But, then again, her mother had never worked for Coleani, so maybe Kellie’s hatred ran a little deeper.

Darryl glanced from one woman to the other, clearly sensing the raw emotions pulsating between them. “Lambert is green,” he added. “Way over his head. That night was no doubt his initiation into the inner circle. Coleani probably demands all his high ranking lieutenants take a life. That way, they’re in as deep as he is should anything go south. They’re just as liable.”

Kellie snorted. “And this is a man free to walk the streets of Harbour Bay? All while we chase our tails and charge his lackeys for completing their tasks as ordered.”

“The LAC has been trying to nail Coleani’s arse for over twenty years. The man is like Teflon
—
nothing sticks,” Amelia said, exasperated. She was really beginning to lose what little patience she had. “Our only hope would be to turn one of his men.”

“You know full well his little cult members are hardened criminals. All of them would lay down and die for him. Not even a Donovan interrogation would yield results.”

“Don’t let Coleani cloud your judgement,” she advised.

Her phone rang. She reached over and answered it, her voice crisp. “Donovan.” She paused. “Where are you? I expected a report an hour ago.”

Both Kellie and Darryl perked up, waiting for news.

“I heard about that. Bad one, right? So why are you calling?”

***

Kellie began to pace back and forth, her body stiff
with tension, as a feeling of uselessness settled uncomfortably over her. Darryl rubbed the back of his neck as he watched her, his brown gaze caressing her body with interest as if trying to understand what made her tick. His avid attention knotted her stomach in a way she couldn’t understand. She mentally pushed Darryl aside, though that was a chore in itself and focused on the one-sided conversation.

“I’ll let the others know. Anything else?” She paused again. “Coleani always did cover his arse well. Can either of you get away to collect Lambert?”

Darryl straightened, and Kellie stopped and stared.

Amelia swore and caught her gaze, then hung up the phone.

“Matthews?” Darryl asked.

“Yeah, apparently Lambert caught sight of his tail and sped through an intersection causing an accident and heavy traffic jam. Good news is we have enough evidence to take him down.”

A barrage of rapid gunfire put a stop to Kellie’s reply. Amelia dropped to the floor beside her desk, using the heavy duty object as cover while Darryl pushed Kellie to the ground, covering her body with his and pressing her into the hard carpet. She didn’t fight him, going willingly, too terrified to argue. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, to block out her surroundings as her body began quivering beneath Darryl’s in fear, but she couldn’t, not when other people were depending on her observations to keep them alive.

She looked left, then right, expecting to see furniture combust into a thousand pieces. The sound of breaking glass and surprised screams and shouts swam around her head until she had no idea where they were coming from. The next room? The floor below? The floor above?

The building’s internal security system started blaring, sounding much like the old World War Two air-raid warnings, and the shrill noise hurt her ears, threatening to burst the delicate drum. She was on the verge of losing it and for a second she imagined herself in the middle of a war zone, taking fire. That’s certainly what it felt like, only Darryl’s weight and heat seeping through her clothes and warming her chilled body kept her sanity.

The world went silent momentarily before a loud squeal she presumed was a rubber tyre connecting with the asphalt reached her ears. They remained on the floor for several minutes after the gunfire stopped, until it was decided they were safe.

Amelia lithely got to her feet and surveyed her surroundings, her take-charge personality a real blessing in situations like this. “Is everyone all right?” she asked.

Several affirmatives were given as their cop instincts took over, immediately seeking intruders or injured parties.

“Someone shut that damn alarm off,” Amelia shouted.

Darryl rose in one swift motion, pulling Kellie up with him and instantly wrapped his arms around her trembling body. “Shhh,” he whispered in her ear, rubbing his hand gently up and down her back in a comforting gesture. “It’s all right. It’s all over.”

Amelia returned, placing her hand on Kellie’s shoulder, concern evident on her face as she took in her condition. “Are you okay?” Her voice sounded strangely soft and nurturing.

Kellie nodded and pulled away, her hands shaking. Darryl reached over and wiped his thumb across her cheek and it was then she realised she’d been crying silently. Long ago memories had bombarded her, flashes of a gun appearing in her vision, along with the sound of a bullet exiting a chamber and finding its target.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say, her voice calm and steady even though she wasn’t. She scanned the room, noting that it had been untouched.

“The damage has been confined to the ground floor,” a uniformed officer reported to the room at large.

Kellie stepped away, her legs unsteady at first. With each step, she grew stronger.

As if having no will of her own, she found herself opening the door to the fire exit and descending the staircase, Darryl and Amelia on her heels. When they reached the ground floor and entered the general reception area, glass crunched beneath her shoes, along with the occasional piece of broken wood. The back wall where the
Harbour Bay Local Area Command
sign hung bore a resemblance to Swiss cheese.

Kellie took in the devastation. Uniformed and plainclothes officers moved about the room purposefully. She recognised a few members of the forensic team who were quickly snapping pictures and sorting through the debris.

Doctor Stone attended to the few injured, thankfully finding nothing more than a few cuts and bruises.

The lobby was a large open space where to the right of the entrance stood the sign-in desk, and to the left were two navy blue couches. Each sported tears in the fabric where the bullets had entered. A glass coffee table with magazines and pamphlets somehow stood untouched between the destroyed couches.

Past the waiting area was the cafeteria and its multitude of tables and chairs. Glass littered the floors and a slight breeze filled the lobby through the broken windows. The buffet station had also been shot up but the kitchen where the staff had been working at the time was behind a thick protective wall and remained intact.

An older uniformed officer trudged over to them. “I caught sight of the shooters and recognised a couple of them as Coleani’s boys. Not one over the age of eighteen by my estimation.”

“How many were there?” Amelia asked.

“Three shooters and one driver as far as I could tell,” the veteran officer, Bryce Prescott, said. “Didn’t catch a plate number but it was a dark Honda CRV.”

“Any casualties?” Darryl enquired.

Bryce shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve sent some men around to the offices beyond the wall to check things out.”

They all turned to the wall where high calibre bullets had ripped straight through the plaster and insulation into the office beyond, and out the other side. Streaks of daylight peeked through the hundred or so holes. Thankfully, the only thing in that area beyond the building was water.

“Good, then the only damage was structural.”

“Which is going to cost the taxpayers hundreds of thousands,” a deep baritone voice stated angrily. They all turned to face Superintendent Harris as he barrelled down on them, his face red while a vein throbbed visibly in his temple.

“Just send the bill to Coleani, Boss,” Amelia quipped.

Harris sent her a withering glare. “It appears Coleani didn’t take kindly to your visit earlier.”

Kellie didn’t doubt it. “Apparently. But I’d say he knows nothing about this. He’s more for the subtle approach. This was the work of his younger
associates
who probably think they’re protecting their boss. Mark my words, when he does learn of this, heads will roll
…
literally.”

“I’ve already posted a couple officers outside and they’re vetting everyone who pulls in. I don’t want another repeat of this afternoon,” Harris told them.

“They won’t be back,” Amelia said. “They did what they came to do.”

Harris scowled and Kellie knew she didn’t want to be in his shoes right now. It was a public relations nightmare. If the police weren’t safe from the likes of Coleani and his cohorts, what chance did the general public have?

“I’ve already called Hoskins down in facilities and told him to bring something to cover the windows until replacements can be ordered and fitted,” Harris said. Several maintenance men were already sweeping up the broken glass. He turned to Amelia. “I don’t want a war to break out in retaliation but he is to know that this thing won’t be tolerated, understand?”

Amelia nodded.

Prescott moved to the reception desk where he talked quietly to Mandy, the forty-something woman who had the misfortune of being at the desk today. Her eyes were wide but she appeared calm, a great woman to have in the midst of a crisis. She had already rounded people up and delegated tasks. Mandy had probably been a drill sergeant in a previous life;
she certainly fit the bill and barking orders seemed to be second nature.

“Let’s go find Lambert,” Amelia said. “Matthews seems to think the quicker, the better. For all we know, this was a delaying tactic so they could dispose of him before we could get our hands on him.”

Chapter 15

Amelia chewed on the end of her pencil. The adrenaline that had been coursing through her bloodstream earlier during the bullet spray had dissipated, leaving her exhausted and emotionally drained. Usually, she lived for this stuff, but today she was finding it hard to summon up much needed energy.

She tried not to let it show. She couldn't afford to appear weak or emotional. No woman of power could because the moment they did they were torn asunder by the competition. Never mind that some of the best leaders in the world had been women. No, a woman was far too emotional. She was going to prove everyone wrong.

Years ago, she had joked about becoming one of Coleani’s girls. God, how long ago was that? It seemed like another lifetime. She hadn’t been serious, of course. Even back then, she had standards and self-respect. Most people in their neighbourhood never managed to scramble out from beneath the garbage, but both Amelia and Kellie had. She hadn’t always liked the way Kellie pushed her, though she understood why and was grateful. In those days, her friend had been determined to claw her way out of the tenements she’d lived in.

Amelia’s memories of the neighbourhood weren’t as bad, though she could smell the strong scent of urine and dope that always permeated the air. During the day it was bad enough, but at night it was the stuff nightmares were made of and the weak were preyed upon. While her mother hadn’t been a peach, at least she hadn’t prostituted herself out like Jules Munroe and she hadn’t lost a father she had loved deeply. Her childhood had been uneventful if not boring, but she had been surrounded by her grandparents’ love, care, and support.

Kellie had no one but her.

She’d been more than her best friend. They were sisters
—
at least the closest to sisters either of them would get since neither of them had siblings.

Amelia threw down her pencil with disgust. This case could very well be the death of her. It constantly brought up memories better left forgotten.

Amelia struggled to keep her eyes open. She had been running on empty for hours now. As she glanced around the Pig Pen, she considered her career. She loved this place. It was overrun by males but they were for the better part supportive and the kind she could trust to have her back.

From the moment she had stepped through the reception doors downstairs almost seven years ago, she had been on a rampage to be the best, not just to prove it to herself but to the people around her. She had never before had such responsibility and power and the knowledge she was doing something worthwhile in her life boiled her blood.

She had climbed the ranks faster than most of her fellow officers and she knew that they resented the hell out of her, but she worked hard for her achievements. She felt a moment of worry as she wondered if it had all been for nought. If Kellie chose to, she could end her career. Her old friend didn’t know how much she treasured this job, how much she needed it.

It was all she had in life. Something she was good at.

“What the hell happened? It looks like World War Three broke out downstairs,” Nick said, interrupting her thoughts as he entered the Pig Pen. His shirt wrinkled and damp at the armpits. Dean, looking very much the same, followed.

“Just about,” Amelia replied with a yawn.

Dean gave her a once over. “If possible, you look worse than we do.”

“Combined,” Nick agreed.

She glared at them both. “Gee, thanks, make a girl feel special. No wonder you two are single. Did you get everything cleared?”

Nick nodded. “Yeah, the fire brigade were washing the streets as we left. Man, that was a bad smash. One of the worst I’ve seen. Thankfully the kid was okay.”

She agreed. She hated when innocents were hurt, worst still when they were kids.

“We tried to locate Lambert but he’s disappeared and right now he’s a low priority to the LAC,” she told them, clearly not agreeing. “Boss wants us to find the little shits who opened fire downstairs. Prescott got a description of the shooters and a make and model of the vehicle.”

“We’ll certainly keep an eye out when we’re on the streets,” Dean said. “I’m going to grab and shower and a change of clothes and get back out there. Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll find Lambert but I doubt it. He’ll turn up though, someday.”

“Yeah, but I’d rather question him and not leave it to Stone,” she quipped. “Dead men don’t give up their secrets. I’m heading home. I’m beat and have a ton of shit to do tomorrow. I’ll see you ladies later.”

A moment later she was walking across the parking lot of the LAC towards her Toyota Kluger. She loved the bulky car; it had a sense of imperviousness about it. She climbed behind the steering wheel and a few seconds later she was joining other late night drivers on the somewhat quiet streets.

She stopped in at Tanner’s Steak and Grill, the local dive haunted by Harbour Bay’s police force and other emergency services employees, and quickly ordered a hamburger with the lot to go. She was too tired to cook but her stomach had begun to growl and was reminiscent of a lioness’s roar so she had wisely chosen to feed it.

Amelia devoured the hamburger the moment she got home and now lay on her cool sheets looking up at the dark ceiling, her stomach satisfied. She wondered at the future. Her dreams were so close to being fulfilled—close, but still precariously fragile. She could practically taste her promotion in her mouth.

Kellie had promised to be fair, to judge her by what she saw in the here and now. There had been a time when Kellie knew everything about Amelia. The good, the bad, her wants and needs, her dreams and wishes, her fears and desires, but she didn’t know who she’d become. Just as Amelia didn’t know who Kellie had become after that fateful night. They had both changed, both grew up, both strong, independent women who were more acquaintances than friends. Something she hoped to change.

She didn’t believe she’d done anything wrong; she’d had no other choice. She was a cop, not a kindergarten teacher, so a certain amount of violence was to be expected. She didn’t like playing the female card, but she felt like she was being unfairly judged. Men like Matthews and Hill could use their superior strength to disable a target but for her it took a little brute force to get compliance. It was part and parcel of her chosen profession, something she would have to get used to.

Not unless you’re kicked out
, an inner voice taunted.

Amelia took a deep breath and sat up in her queen size bed. She liked her apartment; it wasn’t flashy or decorated with expensive furniture that would take years to pay off but it was home and suited her needs. The external walls showed the red brick of the building, the internal plasterboard painted a sunny yellow
—
not her choice but the previous tenant’s. She had moved in the same time she’d been hired at the LAC and had been there ever since.

She wrapped the afghan blanket she’d snatched from the end of her bed over her shoulders, immediately feeling the warmth it trapped between her body and the fabric. Having Kellie walk back into her life shook her more than she’d like to admit and not just because she’d always fallen short beside her friend. It stirred up feelings she’d thought long ago dead. Kellie was not only her friend but a constant reminder of a past she could not change.

Amelia liked to believe she was untouchable, but if there was ever a weakness, Kellie was her Achilles heel. Even after twelve years, the friendship they shared was still there, buried deep within two women who fought to get past one event in their lives
—
the event that changed them forever in more ways than one. Amelia marvelled at how strong Kellie had always been. Even in her darkest hours, Kellie struggled and sought help, not allowing her rocky emotions get the better of her.

While she had been sarcastic and still was, Kellie had more guts than a whole platoon of soldiers. She never backed down from a fight, never gave up, her tenaciousness giving her a solid reputation.

When a lesser person would’ve bowed down and slunk off into the shadows, Kellie had grown stronger, more stubborn, and had the force of a cyclone crashing against the shore.

She admired her more than she would ever know. Could they somehow become close again?

She stood and walked over to her closet. She flicked on the bare bulb, then rummaged through a shoe box. She found what she was looking for and pulled it out, bringing the object with her as she sat back on the bed.

In the photo, Kellie stood beside her. It was the only item she’d kept from her past. The only thing she wanted to be reminded of. A friendship that had never died, if only put on hold. A moment when life had been ahead of her, the world a vast and exciting place.

A lot had changed in twelve years. Lives had been destroyed, careers created from the remains. She wasn’t sure she would ever forgive herself. The past seemed to haunt her no matter what she did or where she went. Kellie had told her to forget, that she should not feel guilty, but Amelia did. Survivor’s guilt, the psychologists called it, and they were right. It haunted her more than anything because it could have easily been her.

Amelia doubted she would’ve had half the strength it took Kellie to get back on her feet and keep moving. She’d always surprised her. When other women would given up, she had worked even harder to keep going. Even when she'd believed all had been lost she'd still called out for help, fighting the hopelessness she'd been drowning in. Determination. Courage. Words she associated with Kellie. Life had often knocked her down yet she’d continued to get back up.

Tears burned in her eyes as she stared down at the photo. Her grandparents had taken the picture, shortly after Kellie’s sixteenth birthday. Her present to her best friend shone brightly from around her neck. The gold locket had been taken along with the Kellie she’d once known.

Amelia placed the frame on her bedside table, no longer wanting to keep it locked away unseen and forgotten.