Open Wounds

by Camille Taylor

  It had been a while since any woman had taken his interest. It was like an electric shock to his system.

  Kellie turned to face Dean and smiled. Dean blinked in surprise as she came closer and held out her hand. He shook it politely before releasing it.

  “I’m not all that bad,” she told him.

  Amelia gave an unladylike snort. “Kellie is here to watch me. Apparently I can’t do my job without some paper pusher observing me. Someone who has no idea what real police work is like. When was the last time you held a gun, Kel?”

  Kellie’s eyes narrowed at Amelia; there must have been something about what she said that hit a nerve. Her easy demeanour disappeared and a hardness washed over her.

  “You shouldn’t be concerned with my competencies, Mia. I’m not the one dangling over a precipice.”

  Darryl moved to intercede before it got out of hand. He never thought he’d be juggling two women like they were grenades missing the pins. He placed his hand on Kellie’s back to remind her of where they were and glared at his partner.

  “How about you two knock it off?” he suggested.

  They both nodded, and he dropped his hand, feeling her absence from his touch acutely. He seriously needed to get a handle on himself.

  Kellie stared at Amelia. She looked like she wanted to say something, then decided against it as Amelia scooped up her files.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  Chapter 6

  Amelia stared across the interview table at Michael Lambert, all while trying to ignore Kellie’s constant presence as she stood unobtrusively in the corner beside the door watching the interview unfold. She didn’t need this right now, still felt pissed, annoyed that Kellie of all people had been sent to make a judgment call on her actions. The unresolved past caused her to feel the pain she had long ago pushed aside. Her temper had risen to the surface, making her more volatile than usual, and was barely containing the emotions she kept buried.

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat and ruthlessly turned her attention to her suspect before she did something unforgivable—like cry. She had known Kellie worked for IA just two floors above her, but she’d always kept her distance and had managed to unintentionally avoid her. But now she was here, her blue gaze unwavering as she seemed to stare straight into Amelia’s soul. She felt her judging and condemning gaze, almost buckling beneath the weight of it.

  There was nothing she could do about that now, or even in the foreseeable future. Best to focus on the here and now and close the case so Kellie would go away. The less time spent together, the better.

  She confirmed for the record that Michael Lambert had denied having a solicitor present and marvelled at his obvious cockiness. He didn’t seem the least bit afraid he was under the suspicion of double homicide. This made her wonder why. He wasn’t a hardened criminal and should’ve been at least sweating from nerves. His lack of concern was intriguing. He wouldn’t be as easy to crack as she’d first thought.

  Michael’s face was swollen in several places and after the first aid officer had a cursory glance, he’d been placed in the interview room. That had been hours ago. She would’ve interviewed him earlier but she and Darryl had been subjected to legal prattle about her altercation before being called to immediately report to the boss’s office.

  Darryl sat beside her and allowed her to take the lead. He would remain quiet unless he thought he could be of assistance. Until then, he stared with cold brown eyes at Michael in a bid to unnerve him. It worked on most criminals and they played off one another depending on the personality of the suspect they were interviewing.

  She glanced down at the file she held in her hands. After apprehending the son-of-a-bitch, she and Darryl had fingerprinted the little prick and ran them through NAFIS—the National Automated Fingerprint Identification System. They had discovered that young Michael Lambert was a career felon, starting small at age nine, stealing chocolate bars from convenience stores. He had since moved on to bigger and better things such as double homicide at the tender age of nineteen.

  “Mr. Lambert, can you account for your whereabouts last evening, between eleven and one a.m.?”

  He stared mutinously at her.

  “I don’t believe you’re grasping the gravity of your situation,Michael. Your car and therefore you have been placed at a double homicide. So do yourself a favour and answer the question.”

  He smirked but remained stoically silent, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to show his defiance. The move was ruined when he winced from the injuries she had given him.

  “You think you’re going to walk away from this? Two men are dead and someone has to pay for it. If it wasn’t you, now is the time to speak up and tell us a name. Otherwise, your bruises will be the least of your troubles.”

  He narrowed his eyes at the reminder that he’d been bested by a woman. He may have thought of himself as a gangster wannabe, but they both knew the truth. He was a poser and he’d gotten lucky last night.

  “Fuck you, bitch.”

  Amelia nodded. “Ah, he speaks.”

  “You got nothing on me, and you know it. Nothing more than my car allegedly at the crime scene. I say it wasn’t. Your witness can argue it until he’s blue in the face, but it don’t change nothing.”

  He smiled at her as if he had her beat. The glint of fear in his eyes betrayed him. He wasn’t as emotionless as he wanted to be and in way over his head. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. She would’ve been more sympathetic if he hadn’t have come at her with a knife. His behaviour told her more than his words. There was someone else out there pulling his strings. Lambert felt safe, as if untouchable under the man’s protection. She knew only a few men exerted that amount of power.

  He might skirt the assault charges, a fact that grated but she would get him on murder. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but he would not go unpunished. She hated the fact that he’d been right about the evidence against him. She would find it hard to push for a conviction.

  The only thing that could save him now would be to offer up the man behind the scenes. The coward who made teenagers do his dirty work.

  “Doesn’t change anything,” she corrected him, and his eye twitched in anger.

  “Fuck you.”

  “You really shouldn’t have given up school, Michael. You might’ve had a more extensive vocabulary if you’d have stayed.”

  Lambert rose to his feet in one swift move and lunged at her. She deftly grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back hard enough that she heard the tendons strain and slammed him face first into the table. Blood spurted from his nose and he started mewling.

  “Detective Donovan,” Kellie said sharply. Amelia glanced up and saw her furious expression. “A moment outside. Now.” She turned and opened the door to the interview room, waiting until she and Darryl had stepped through before closing it behind her with a distinct click.

  “What now, Kellie?” she asked, suddenly exhausted. The little prick had been getting on her nerves.

  “He was deliberately pushing you and you played right into his hands. He’ll walk because of your actions in that room. He may be a punk but he has rights and you’re violating each and every one of them.”

  Amelia blinked at the red haze clouding her vision, hating how she was right. “You’re protecting him? He’s a murderer.”

  She couldn’t believe it. It was bad enough to be told his assault on her wouldn’t be charged, a lack of witnesses and the fact her injuries were inconsequential in light of his. But now a woman she’d considered a sister was against her. Was it any wonder she was pissed?

  “Alleged. But it’s not him I’m protecting…it’s you. If he had any brains at all, he would press charges against you. Police brutality while in custody. Your career would be over in a second. No wonder you have IA breathing down your neck, if that’s the kind of shit you pull on a weekly basis.”

  “Come on, Sergeant Munroe, you know Donovan upholds the law.”


  Kellie glared at Darryl. “But who upholds her, Detective? Cops are not above the law. They’re to apprehend, not punish. Partner loyalty is great, Detective Hill, but be careful she doesn’t bring you down.”

  He returned a cold stare. “I believe in my partner. You should try it.”

  Kellie snapped her teeth together audibly. “Look, Mia, I’m not the enemy here.”

  “Yeah? You sure about that?”

  Kellie let out a long breath. “Stop fighting me and start thinking. He’s a smart kid and he’ll outlast you. You’ve already lost the assault charge. Anything he says in there now, any lawyer would have thrown out citing coercion. Try another avenue. You’re a hell of a detective, and I’d hate for you to lose your job. But I’d hate it more if I’m the one taking it from you.”

  Amelia heard the sincerity in her voice, though it annoyed her that she had dared comment on her treatment. She hadn’t been there when the little shit had drawn his knife and if she’d made one wrong move, he would’ve gutted her. These people had no idea about the situations she dealt with every day, the fear she felt, and the instincts that took over that had her reacting first, sometimes with excessive force but not always.

  “The evidence against him is purely circumstantial. We’re going to need more. Get his alibi then cut him lose,” Darryl suggested. “We’ll bide our time and then go at him again fully charged.”

  She hesitated as she stared at Kellie. She had a better idea, a way to lull Lambert into feeling omnipotent. He would be suspicious of Amelia if she let him go, but if Kellie did it, he might actually believe he’d outsmarted them. He would certainly underestimate her with her blonde hair and blue eyes.

  “You do it,” she told her, not unkindly.

  Kellie gave her a look that said she understood her intention, then nodded and slipped into the interview room, leaving the door open an inch.

  “Mr. Lambert, Kellie Munroe. Internal Affairs.”

  Amelia listened as she apologised profusely for the way he’d been treated, and assured a complaint would be filed. She even went as far as to ask him if he wanted to file charges for assault.

  Darryl slanted her a look as they both listened to her compassionate voice. Amelia barely restrained her smile; she was living up to her expectations and more. She heard him consider it through the crack in the door but then graciously declined. Obviously, he figured he was better off making a clean break.

  “That bitch is crazy.”

  “I assume you mean Detective Donovan? She will be dealt with by her superiors, Mr. Lambert, I assure you.”

  “So I can go then?”

  “You’ll be free to go once you provide me with an alibi. Until then, I’m afraid I’ll need to detain you for twenty-four hours so I can make my own investigations into your whereabouts.”

  Kellie actually sounded apologetic.

  “I was at home,” Michael mumbled.

  “Is there anyone who can verify that?”

  “Sure.”

  The room went silent and she assumed he was writing down a list of mates who would lie for him. It didn’t matter. Once the forensic team had a chance to analyse the evidence, she was sure they’d be able to poke holes in his story. Once they had him by the short hairs, they’d make a deal with him to give up his boss if he wanted freedom again before he died. Until then, he would be followed. She texted Dean on her phone to ensure he was in position and let him know the suspect was due to leave shortly.

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Lambert. I appreciate you coming in to clear up matters,” Kellie said warmly.

  Amelia’s gut churned as Kellie escorted him out of the interview room and into the custody of a uniformed officer who would release him. Lambert gave her a look of triumph. She waited until the elevator door closed on his smirking face before spinning on her heel and stalking off down the corridor.

  Chapter 7

  Darryl joined Kellie at the elevator, having declined riding down with Lambert and Officer Prescott. She jabbed the call button with her index finger and for the first time he noticed her manicured nails. They weren’t long, barely a few millimetres past the quick but they were definitely feminine, polished in the French style. He imagined them digging into his back during the height of her climax and immediately his trousers became too tight. He mentally cursed himself. He’d been semi-hard since she’d first walked into Harris’s office and it seemed he was doomed to remain in that state while she was with him.

  He gave her another covert sweep just as he’d done in Harris’s office. She was beautiful, no doubt about that. Her blouse and skirt hiding a naturally slim yet curvy body, and legs that went on forever that made him think of them wrapped around his waist. He shifted his position to ease the ache in his groin. He breathed in the scent of her floral perfume, feeling the curl of desire in his belly and tried to ignore it. She was off-limits. He didn’t plan on getting on Donovan’s bad side—if she had a worse one—by sleeping with the enemy. Not that it was any of her business who he slept with, but he didn’t want to feel as if he’d betrayed her. He wasn’t about to get between two women with obvious issues even if Kellie was susceptible to his advances.

  He’d seen the emotion in her eyes earlier and knew despite the coolness she projected that there was hot passion flowing beneath the surface. He would love to see it put to good use. He almost came just thinking about it.

  The elevator door opened and he indicated with a gesture for her to precede him. She hit the button for the fourth floor and leaned back against the walls of the carriage, her hands reaching out on either side to hold onto the silver safety railing. The elevator began its ascent. They rode in silence for a moment before she spoke.

  “Detective Hill, I would like to ask you a question—off the record. Do you trust Amelia with your life?”

  He didn’t have to think about the question, and replied truthfully.

  “Absolutely. We’re a small team, a family. If you can’t trust your unit you shouldn’t be here. We have enough trouble with everything out there,” he said, indicting to the outside, beyond the LAC’s walls to the streets of Harbour Bay, “…without fighting each other inside.”

  Kellie nodded. “Do you believe that she uses excessive force? Are her actions one step too far? Do you think she could handle these situations differently?”

  If Amelia had done something wrong, he wouldn’t lie to Internal Affairs about it. She was a great detective and they had to protect their own, to a certain degree. If Amelia were a dirty cop, he’d have no issues hanging her out to dry…but he knew she wasn’t.

  “No, I don’t,” he told her, absolute conviction in his voice. “Sure, sometimes she has to rough them up a little, more so than any man would need to. I don’t mean to sound sexist here, but even though we don’t treat her any differently, the fact of the matter is that Donovan has to prove herself out on the streets. She has to be harder, tougher than anyone else, because they see her as a woman and not a cop. They think they can run roughshod all over her and walk away. I’ve seen it happen and she can’t afford to give them an inch.”

  Kellie stared at him for a beat and he wondered what she was thinking. She suddenly smiled and he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.

  “Thank you for your honesty, Detective. Believe it or not, I’m not out for blood. If neither of us does our jobs right, then chaos will ensue. Rules will be broken and advantages will be taken. I’m going to see this case through whether Mia likes it or not, but I am on her side and I wanted you to know that.”

  “Might I ask why you two aren’t friends anymore?”

  She looked taken aback, as if that was the last question she had expected. She swallowed hard.

  “People change, Detective. They grow apart.”

  “I know, and she’s a hard person to love. I can see how she might push someone away.”

  “You’ve got it wrong. She didn’t push me away. I pushed her. Some things are hard to forget,” she told him bi
tterly, then gave him a look to say she wasn’t about to discuss it further with him.

  “Maybe you should try. She needs someone in her life, someone outside of these walls. Someone who can put up with her bullshit.”

  She slid him an amused look. “Thank you, Detective Hill, but why do you think I’m the one who needs to do the forgetting?”

  He watched Kellie walk down the hall, just barely holding in a whistle of appreciation, the gentle sway of her hips forever burned into his mind as they moved to the left and right under her navy blue skirt. He sighed loudly. It had been a while since he had spent any time with a woman, and Donovan didn’t count. She was one of the boys no matter what chromosomes she had coursing through her body.

  He waited until Kellie was out of sight before he pressed the button to return to his floor and had leaned back against the wall in something almost like pain. He had spent the last several years focused completely on his job, with no time to spare for anything else.

  He was a goal orientated person, having come from a structured career military household. His days had been mapped and timed, leaving no room for error. His father, a brilliant and strict man had been a little too hell-bent on the rules that governed his family. Although, looking back on it, raising three unruly boys meant his father may have had a point. He and his brothers, Jack and Chase, had not made things easy on the colonel.

  His father must’ve done something right, he reflected, since all three Hill boys served their country. His two brothers followed his father’s footsteps and joined the army. Chase, the youngest, was currently serving in Afghanistan. Although Darryl chose law enforcement instead, his father couldn’t be more proud. He’d known from a young age that he wanted to be a police detective and his whole life had been planned around it. Though now that his dream had finally come true, maybe it was time to redefine his needs.