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Open Wounds

Page 16

by Camille Taylor


  “His killer was a good shot. Quick, efficient,” she said, remembering how inadequate her would-be killer had been.

  In comparison, Michael Lambert had truly been lucky. He had been saved from the fears and psychological issues she’d dealt with. To be so close to death, to relive the fear, the helplessness, whenever she let down her guard.

  Doctor Stone raised an eyebrow at her somewhat callous statement.

  “I just mean it could’ve been worse,” she explained. “More painful if he hadn’t died. Efficient is more humane.”

  She caught Amelia’s gaze, knowing her friend understood where her mind had been. She turned away from her perceptive stare, still stinging from their previous conversation, and watched as Doctor Stone zipped the black body bag shut and prepared to have it lifted onto the stretcher nearby.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, they were back at the LAC. Kellie was fuming. Once again Coleani would get away with murder. She had a horrible taste in her mouth she couldn’t get rid of. She was sick of being unable to get him off the streets. He was a parasite feeding off the unfortunates, roaming the city free. Anger made her stomach clench painfully.

  She paced in front of Darryl and Amelia’s desks, agitated. The ten desks were divided into two rows that faced each other with a small aisle between them. At the desks on either side of them, Nick and Dean had their heads down, engrossed in their individual tasks.

  “I can’t take this any longer,” she said, turning to Amelia. “I want you to crawl so far up Coleani’s arse it makes the Taxation Office look good.” Amelia raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Darryl as Kellie continued. “One of his lieutenants would have made the kill shot, and we need to find that man and put pressure on him.”

  “What makes you think we can get him to open up when we couldn’t with Lambert? And he was nothing compared to Coleani’s inner circle,” Amelia stated.

  Kellie wrapped her arms about her stomach in an effort to ease the pain. “I’m not thinking about getting them to roll over but about connecting his crimes to Coleani. We may not be able to get him on murder, but an accessory is just as good. At least for the first part.”

  Amelia smiled. “You mean we get Coleani here on any charge we can find and we’ll be able to obtain warrants to go through his properties. It could work if we find something. He isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. Only manipulative. It’s a sound plan.”

  She nodded. “You almost sound surprised. Let’s access the records from the youth centre and cross reference the names with those working for a Coleani establishment, and see who also checks out with the Department of Corrective Services.”

  Her blood sang inside her body. For the first time since she’d been handed the case, elation filled her, the possibility of finally nailing Coleani’s arse to the wall giving her a high. “He always found the ones with a shitty home life, which makes what he’s offering look like nirvana. The Department of Community Services will no doubt have a record of these kids. Domestic disputes and neglect are high on the list. At some point an officer would’ve been appointed and the child placed in a foster home.”

  Darryl spoke up. “Well, Coleani’s enterprises are spread right around his territory and that’s quite the large area to cover. Anything south of Broad and north of Colander is his. That’s about…what? A twenty, twenty-five block radius? How many business deeds are in his name?”

  Amelia went to her computer and typed his name into a database. Within a minute, the many results appeared on her monitor. Kellie peered over her shoulder.

  “Okay, he has fifteen businesses, including the youth centre, strip club, and restaurant. The rest are low yielders, probably nothing more than a way to launder his money,” Amelia informed them.

  Darryl joined Kellie, and she felt the heat of his body, yearned for him to wrap his strong arms around her and chase away the chill. She savoured his scent as it unfurled in her lungs, subtle, yet it still unhinged her. She would never forget that smell for as long as she lived.

  “That’s not even mentioning the businesses he shakes down once a week,” Nick added, jarring Kellie from her distracting thoughts. “There’s no doubt Coleani feels they belong to him simply because of their locations.”

  “A man’s got to be able to pay his minions some way. Why not employ them in his businesses? That way you get the hired gun and the free labour,” Dean said.

  “You’ve thought way too much about that,” Amelia commented.

  He shrugged, continuing to type up his report, while Nick studied the large map of Harbour Bay pinned to the wall. Amelia had marked Coleani’s territory with a red marker.

  “I never realised just how much of this city is under Coleani’s control,” he stated.

  She nodded. “I know…and seeing it outlined like that. How can one man exert so much influence?”

  “Easy when you start moulding children into doing your dirty work. Kids are so susceptible. Especially when they come from broken homes,” Dean said. “He obviously tests the kids, has them commit a crime just so there’s no out. No place to turn should something go wrong like having second thoughts. It’s a hold on them that gets them to move further into Coleani’s lies.”

  “Start small and progress onto bigger and better things,” Darryl finished.

  “Like murder,” she said, shivering.

  Amelia frowned. “Kellie, maybe you ought to think this through before you lay a full attack on Coleani. He will fight back.”

  She wasn’t interested in warnings. “Amelia, get me the names or I’ll get them myself.”

  Raising her hands in surrender, she replied, “Just some helpful advice, Kel. Don’t worry, I won’t be offering it again anytime soon.”

  “I’m sorry, Mia, I didn’t mean to snap.”

  “All right then, as long as we’re on the same page. You know I’d look out for you to hell and back. So, what are the other parameters for the search?”

  Amelia turned her full attention to her computer screen and began typing into the search fields while Kellie mulled over the question. She nibbled on her lower lip as a frown creased her forehead. “Coleani desires loyalty above all else, and you don’t get into his pocket until you prove your worth. So focus on the older ones. The men who’ve been with him the longest.”

  Amelia nodded and continued to type. The computer beeped as it finished searching and brought up the results. The first picture was the behemoth of a man that had brought them to Coleani at his restaurant. His name was Aaron Huber.

  Darryl leaned forward. “That’s the man from the restaurant.”

  She skimmed his rap sheet. The usual offences were there—assault, credit card fraud, car theft, and drug possession.

  Amelia kept flicking through the digital files of those within Coleani’s employ who were also registered at the youth centre and DoCS.

  After five minutes of searching through Coleani’s recruits, who each had a record to call their own, every mug shot began to bleed together. Tattoos of every design and colour filled her head until she had to work to see the images.

  She yawned. The day had been long and exhausting; the discovery of Lambert’s body knocked what little energy she had left out of her. She sipped on a mug of strong coffee, which gave her a zing, evident in her annoying habit of tapping her fingernail against the porcelain mug.

  Twice, Amelia glared at her. She ignored her. She was on a mission, along with the collective efforts of Harbour Bay’s Detective Unit, and together they would bring Coleani down. She could feel it. Excitement began to restore her depleted energy level, making her edgy.

  They were close to being free of him. For all of Coleani’s people to be free, to be able to live their lives without fear. She pulled at the clip in her hair, freeing the strands, placing the clip in her pant pocket as she watched another face flick across the screen.

  She blinked, adding moisture to her dry eyes. Around her, voices murmured, and Dean’s keyboard clicked as he continued wr
iting up his report. It was one thing she didn’t like about the job—the countless reports detailing everything that happened during their shift, from the mundane to the downright bizarre.

  The air conditioning unit huffed like an out of shape man running up a steep incline, humming continuously as it pumped out chilled air into the stuffy room.

  A photo of a man in his thirties, appeared on the monitor. His brown hair was greasy and his face sported several days’ worth of growth. Kellie blinked as Amelia hit the enter button, bringing them to the next photo.

  Gripping the back of Amelia’s chair, Kellie’s breath rushed out and she gasped. “Wait. Go back to the last one.”

  Something about her voice had Amelia glancing over her shoulder at her. She jerked her head towards the monitor and impatiently waited for her to hit the back button, bringing the picture onto the screen. Kellie studied the image, the sharp facial bone structure with an aquiline nose.

  His dark obsidian eyes seemed to pierce her soul as the image seared her while a fleeting memory played across her mind. The face of the man leaning over her in the moonlight as he raised the twenty-two that had almost killed her.

  Her heart stopped briefly before beating frantically in her chest.

  So this is what a panic attack feels like, she thought as her legs gave out.

  Darryl caught her before she hit the ground and held her upright, while Amelia vacated her chair. Together they guided her onto the seat gently as if she might shatter.

  “That’s the man.” Her voice trembled. She hated how weak she sounded.

  Years of not knowing, of never believing she would find him, and there he was right in front of her. Where she least expected him. She struggled to regain control of her body.

  “You know who that is?” Darryl asked, concern etched on his face. Concern for her. She swallowed hard at the lump in her throat, nodding.

  Amelia studied her. “Who is he?”

  “The man who raped me.”

  Darryl’s hands tightened around her arms where he held her. Nick and Dean abruptly turned their heads in her direction, the movement drawing her attention. Her face flushed in mortification. She’d forgotten they were there, though she’d always suspected Nick had guessed something of her past. She shivered when she caught the unrestrained anger in their eyes and bodies. They both remained silent which helped her unwarranted embarrassment.

  “Wayne Burton,” Amelia read from the screen.

  The devil has a name.

  She recited his list of crimes and was surprised to find no mention of rape. Assault and drug possession made sense; he’d been particularly aggressive with her.

  “Kellie, are you sure?”

  “Believe me. That’s the one face I’ll remember until the day I die. Can you bring up my case file?”

  Amelia leaned over and typed her name into the case retrieval program. The digital copy of the report filed and photos taken came up immediately on screen. She flicked through them, quickly reading the description Kellie had given to Detective Graham. It fit, that much was certain. But it also fit a lot of other men too.

  Kellie frowned. “It’s gone. The facial reconstruction I did with the sketch artist is gone. Coleani must have gotten to it.”

  “He wouldn't want it to blowback in his direction,” Amelia stated.

  “You two never thought of having the detective check into this before?” Darryl asked incredulously.

  Amelia shook her head.

  “There was no correlation at the time,” Kellie said. “It never crossed my mind that it could have been one of his boys carrying out orders.”

  She’d never once believed he’d strike out at her, but if Wayne Burton had attacked her, he’d done it with Coleani’s approval.

  Kellie rose to her feet, fighting a head spin as she stormed off towards the elevator.

  Chapter 25

  Kellie pulled into her driveway too fast, slamming on the brakes and stopping just inches from her garage door. She jerked in her seat as the safety belt prevented her from flying forward.

  Stopping her vehicle beside Kellie’s car, Amelia climbed out and waited for her to join her. She was wasting her time. She wasn’t interested in anything she had to say at the moment. Her world was spiralling out of control and she fought to make sense of what happened to her one night twelve years ago.

  Had Coleani really been behind it all?

  She knew he hadn’t liked her scaring away business, but to go as far as to remove her from this world into the next? Should she really be surprised? He was a brutal man who would have no compunctions killing anyone if it served him a purpose.

  She located her house key on the chain and after several failed attempts finally unlocked the door. She made her way through the dark house, Amelia following behind turning on the lights as she went.

  “Kellie, calm down. What are we doing here?” she asked as Kellie opened the door to her bedroom and walked into her closet, pulling at the boxes resting on the shelf above the neatly organised clothes.

  She found the box she wanted and dumped it down on her bed which was still rumpled from her sexual exploits. She ignored the rush of delightful memories as she pulled the cardboard top off and stared down into the miscellaneous mixture of photographs she would one day organise into albums. She sifted through the box, moving things aside until she came across the piece of paper she’d been looking for. It was folded down the centre twice, just slightly smaller than a photograph. She unfolded the twelve-year-old paper and looked down at the artist’s rendering of the man she now knew as Wayne Burton.

  Her stomach churned. Her sixteen-year-old mind remembered everything. Like she had said, it was the one face she wouldn’t forget. He’d been drawn several years younger than the mug shot but the likeness was there. He’d raped her and attempted to murder her. Had it not been for two people who’d happened to walk by, he would have succeeded. Her throat constricted as the contents of her stomach fought for freedom. She instinctively placed her hand over her mouth as she ran for the nearest bathroom.

  She barely made it, dropping to her knees as she stuck her head into the porcelain bowl and made hacking sounds with her throat as she convulsively threw up. Amelia squatted down beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she removed the drawing from Kellie’s clenched fist.

  When she started to dry heave, she flushed the toilet and leaned against the cool peach tiles of her bathroom.

  “I thought I was over it, you know. That I had finally moved on. I guess I was lying to myself. Here I was lecturing you on the topic. Maybe a little self-examination is in order.”

  “I don’t think you’ll ever really be over it. Not until we catch the son-of-a-bitch,” Amelia replied as she stared down at the picture. “You were right. There’s no mistaking him.”

  “We can’t let him get away with this, Mia.”

  “I won’t let him get away.” She reached into her pocket and produced her mobile phone, pressing a number on speed dial. She recognised the timbre of Darryl’s voice.

  “It’s Donovan. I want you to get out an arrest warrant for Wayne Burton. He’s the guy.”

  Kellie heard him swear before she hung up.

  “I’ll let you know when I’ve castrated the bastard.”

  “You’re not closing me out of this, Mia,” Kellie said, outraged.

  “Kel, listen to me. Let me do my job, okay? You know I won’t let you down. But I can’t let you continue on the path of self-destruction. You are too involved in this case, obsessed even. If you don’t take a step back, I’ll go to Harris and have you removed.” She held up her hand as Kellie started to speak, effectively cutting her off. “Don’t think I won’t do it to keep you safe.”

  Kellie nodded her consent and Amelia embraced her, crushing her in a bear hug. It had been a long time since she had been held—a longer time since Amelia had shown anything other than contempt or guilt toward her. She hugged her back, feeling the tears burning her eyes.r />
  “I’ll leave it with you, Mia, because I trust you to get the job done. No matter the cost.”

  “There’s a change,” Amelia replied, grinning before heading back to the LAC, leaving Kellie alone in her house, barely holding onto her sanity and the anger simmering within.

  Chapter 26

  Kellie screamed, and the sound of her terrified voice woke her from her nightmare. She gasped for air, her breath caught in her throat. Her body jerked into a sitting position, her nightie soaked with perspiration. She trembled as she climbed from the bed and had to grab hold of the wall when her knees buckled. Her heart beat in a painful rapid tattoo. She placed a hand over her chest in an effort to ease the vice like grip.

  She could still smell his rank breath and feel his hands upon her skin. Her stomach rolled. She remembered clearly how he’d stroked the chain around her neck down to the golden heart shaped locket she’d worn. A hard yank had the delicate jewellery snapping and in the next moment it was gone, most likely a disturbing keepsake.

  She’d never been as terrified as when she’d looked down the long barrel attached to the gun. It had only been a stroke of luck that a noise had startled her attacker which ultimately saved her life, the gun jerking in his grasp as he flinched, the bullet missing its target and grazing the side of her head as it exited the chamber. She touched the scar, imagining the acute pain. She’d welcomed the darkness that had surrounded her as the pain swamped her and for the barest of moments she’d thought she would never wake. The scariest part was that she’d been fine with that.

  Tears slid down her cheeks, leaving a wet trail in their wake. She’d had the nightmare so many times. She moved into the bathroom and made herself take a hot shower, washing away the sweat and fear. The hot water warmed her chilled blood and helped chase away the remnants of her bad dream. The first few minutes were always the worst.

  Soon, she would be fine and fully functional again, she just had to get past the petrifying fear first. She stepped out of the shower and dressed in a clean grey V-neck shirt and jeans. It was late—or rather, early—but there was no way she could sleep now. The adrenaline still pumped through her veins. Car keys in hand, she headed to the LAC.

 

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