Open Wounds

by Camille Taylor

  And she would need every ounce of that confidence to get through the day.

  Chapter 11

  “Boss, there are some police officers who wish to speak to you,” the burly bodyguard said as he led Kellie, Amelia, and Darryl through the restaurant to the table where Dick Coleani was having lunch.

  “Well, by all means. What can I do for the police this fine day?”

  Coleani didn’t appear how Kellie expected him to. Although she did recognise his Hugo Boss suit that retailed in the thousands. He hardly looked the type to run the biggest crime organisation outside of Sydney.

  A chill raced down her back when her gaze met his. Did he know who she was? Did he see the resemblance? No, she doubted he would even remember the name Jules Munroe.

  “Mr. Coleani?” Amelia made the introductions for herself, Darryl, and Kellie. She seemed just as sceptical.

  Coleani nodded. “What can I do for you, officers?”

  His voice revealed only mild curiosity, that or humour at having the cops inside his restaurant. She felt his cold gaze once more and met his stare, resisting the deep urge to turn away. She thought she saw one side of his mouth minutely lift in amusement or admiration, but in the end she decided she’d imagined it.

  Kellie glanced about the restaurant. It wasn’t the health code violation it had been years ago. Now it had a new location, five stars to its name and charged fifty dollars a plate. The walls were done in merle, framed photos decorating their surroundings. Each showed a group of young boys in their early teens. Coleani’s merry band of drug dealers and murderers, she guessed.

  It’s nice he’s so proud of them, she thought scathingly.

  The tables were covered in sunflower yellow damask tablecloths. Both the seat area and the backs of the chairs were padded with black cloth, creating a comfortable setting for long sit-down dinners and conversation. Kellie lifted her gaze from a restaurant Gordon Ramsey could be proud of to take in the occupants of the room.

  Besides Coleani and his bleached blonde companion, the room only held three more people or at least three more she could see. The first was the man who’d brought them to Coleani, his gym-toned body bulging. What interested her the most was the forty-five beneath his black work shirt. His shirt sported the word Coleani’s over his right breast pocket. A quick glance at the other two men standing by the exit told her they were all packing and that the situation could turn from bad to worse in a split second.

  A light hand on her elbow shocked her into tearing her gaze away from the weapons, and she faced Darryl. His expression told her he had seen the armoury as well.

  She cleared her throat. “Looks like you’ve come a long way, Mr. Coleani.”

  “I always said I was destined for greatness,” he replied smugly.

  “Interesting décor. I remember you didn’t use to go for all that,” Amelia commented, “when you were too busy running your other businesses.”

  Coleani smiled. “Things are changing. You have to move with the times or go under.”

  “Like starting up dot-com companies?” Kellie asked, and was rewarded with Coleani’s narrowed eyes as he glared at her.

  His gaze roamed her body slowly as if searching for weak points. “Is that what you’re here to talk about? The murders of Carl and Kevin?”

  “You’ve heard about it? That’s rather interesting, considering it only happened yesterday.”

  “What happens in my neighbourhood is always reported to me,” Coleani told them piously.

  “Funny, I always thought of the neighbourhood as belonging to the city of Harbour Bay,” Darryl said.

  “Semantics, Detective. So, do you have any further questions for me or are you just wasting my time?”

  Amelia appeared unconcerned. “I’m sorry, Mr. Coleani, that the murders of boys you were once close to is an inconvenience. But we should be out of your hair soon since you should have some knowledge as to who the perpetrator might be. After all, everything that happens in your neighbourhood is reported to you.”

  Darryl moved in front of Amelia to draw attention away from the combustible vibes he seemed to sense. Tension, thick and ripe suffocated Kellie. She forced herself to calm down. The history between them was almost palpable and she had to remind herself they were here about the double homicide.

  “Can you tell us something about them?”

  “They were good boys,” Coleani replied noncommittally.

  “You mean malleable and eager to please,” she said, earning her a glare from Amelia, who had returned to bad-ass detective mode.

  “I get the feeling you don’t like me very much, Officer.”

  “I suppose you must get that often enough. Surely that doesn’t bother you, Mr. Coleani. You look like you have thick skin.”

  He chuckled as if he found her funny, but she knew he didn’t like being challenged. The irritation was clear in his eyes. “That is quite true. I’ve had a lifetime of making enemies. Now I only make friends.”

  “But your price is rather high, isn’t it?” she asked, not able to remain quiet. “In exchange for your friendship, you want blind ignorance. Tell me, how did you deal with their betrayal? I doubt they got a slap on the wrist and a stern lecture.”

  “The only punishment I hand out, young lady, is my disappointment. I let Kevin and Carl go, without any references, without any protection. There are people out there who would take advantage of young, defenceless men like them. Alone in the world, unable to look after themselves. I was afraid they would come to a bad end but I can only do so much. My people must know and understand that betrayal of any kind will not be tolerated.”

  “Your boys are resourceful, Mr. Coleani. They would’ve landed on their feet had they not been murdered. They were smart and quite savvy, to tell you the truth. I saw their plans. They were meticulously thought out and had they continued, their business would have rivalled yours,” Amelia said.

  “Then it was a good thing for all involved that they were taken out of the picture. Imagine what destruction their business could’ve done to the city had they lived. It certainly would’ve been more work for all. I believe the man who took care of our problem deserves to be commended, does he not?” Coleani said with a cruel smile.

  Kellie bit down on her tongue. She was tempted to say something but knew she was already on wafer-thin ice. She was only a visiting member of the team and had no real standing in the investigation. As it had been pointed out before, she wasn’t a detective.

  She watched the men surrounding them. She’d seen both Amelia and Darryl spare the occasional glance towards them, as well. Their sharp eyes seemed to determine if they were a threat, or if they’d moved in the slightest from their initial positions.

  They were outnumbered and outgunned, making her nervous. She knew Coleani well enough to know how he really dealt with those in his way.

  Kellie steeled herself, not wanting to show fear or any other emotion that might please him.

  Darryl stepped forward, drawing complete attention. “Do you know a man named Michael Lambert, Mr. Coleani?”

  He frowned. Years of dealing with the police had made him quite the actor. “I don’t believe so. Should I?”

  Kellie shrugged nonchalantly. “He lives in your neighbourhood, attended your youth centre, and was even employed at one of your businesses. Surely you’ve met him?”

  “I employ many boys and unless they stand out from the crowd, I never meet them in person and I don’t visit the youth centre anymore.”

  Amelia rolled her eyes. “No, now you just have your lackeys do the grunt work for you.”

  “The pleasures of being a boss. I can delegate all those jobs that I find tedious to someone else. That’s why we strive so hard to climb the career ladder, is it not?”

  Darryl crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against a supporting wall. “We believe him to be the perpetrator. We’re in the process of getting a warrant. All we’re waiting on is some results from forensics. He will be arrest
ed and charged for his crimes and anyone connected with him will go down with him.”

  “And you should know him,” Kellie said. “After all, he did kill for you didn’t he? Do you always have other people fix your problems for you?”

  Coleani lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, allowing the smoke to fill the room and tickle Kellie’s nostrils.

  “I’m just a businessman, Detectives. I pay my taxes, provide jobs for my people, and safe places for their children to play and learn. I am a pillar of the community. I don’t go round killing my people.”

  His people. Christ, he really believed himself to be some kind of king who looked down on his serfs, working them until they were no longer useful. She doubted Coleani would be very tolerable to the mistakes of others. When Butler and Benedict had betrayed him, he’d immediately cast them aside. No room for apologies and forgiveness—once lost, it could never be recovered.

  “Just because you colour outside the lines and use laws to cover your illegal activities doesn’t mean that one day you won’t get caught,” Kellie warned him, having made his life hell twelve years prior when she refused to bow down to his dictatorship. Back then, she’d felt invincible, foiling more than one of his drug deals. If she could put him behind bars, she’d find a way.

  “But until then I will have to stay goodbye, Detectives,” he replied, unfazed. “I’m done being accommodating.”

  Darryl gave him a sharp nod. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Coleani. I hope we haven’t taken up too much of your time.”

  He turned and laid a hard hand on her waist as he faced her. The unbreakable hold he had on her forced her to turn with him as he moved past when she would’ve preferred to stay and continue their little chat. Had she not yielded, she would’ve been forcibly dragged out. Amelia followed.

  Darryl didn’t release her until they were outside. She jerked away from him, flustered and oddly turned on from being in such close proximity to him and his alpha behaviour.

  She let out a deep breath and rearranged her clothes, ironing away invisible creases with her hands in order to waste time while she reorganised her thoughts and calmed down.

  She took several deep breaths and inhaled the salty air from the nearby harbour. Coleani’s restaurant was in a prime position down on the promenade. Around them, tourists shopped and walked along the wharf. An old couple sat on a metal bench and fed the seagulls. It was a perfect day, warm with a light breeze and many of the city’s residents and visitors were taking complete advantage of it. The harbour was filled with sailboats setting forth to an island destination for fishing or just a lazy day on the beach.

  Kellie couldn’t enjoy it, not with an open double homicide to tend to. She glared back at the restaurant, not yet open for business. Wait-staff were setting up the outside tables with their frilly white umbrellas on the dock that extended over the water. Coleani would’ve spent a fortune for that luxury, and as always, when his name passed through her mind, anger reared its ugly head.

  She fumed at his gall. Men like him infuriated her because they believed they could do whatever they wanted, and damn the consequences. Her hands curled into small fists with impotent rage. It was always the innocents who got hurt in the end. Those who had done nothing to deserve the cruel hand fate dealt.

  “What was all that about?” she demanded as they walked to the car.

  “Funny, that’s what I was going to ask you,” Darryl retorted. “What was with all the attacking in there? We’re lucky if he doesn’t call the boss to lodge a complaint.”

  “IA investigating IA, that would be something,” Amelia joked.

  Kellie glared at her, in no mood for her brand of humour. “Coleani is a scum bag.”

  “What happened to the woman who said even scum have rights?” Darryl asked.

  She glared at him for throwing her words back in her face, then gritted her teeth as she opened the car door. Coleani was a sore subject. Her mother’s face flashed before her. She ruthlessly pushed the image away.

  “It’s just seeing him there on his lofty perch after all he put us through as kids. We had to grow up way too fast.”

  Amelia’s light brown eyes were filled with understanding and equal frustration. “I know, Kel. Believe me, I’m right there with you. But he didn’t give us one thing we could use against him. That man is as cool as a cucumber. I guess you need a certain set of balls to get you to the top rung. It makes me think of all the things he did to get there.”

  “But the question is…” Darryl began as he climbed into the driver’s seat of his police issued Commodore, “Did we learn anything at all? We pretty much already knew he was guilty.”

  “He’s narcissistic enough to believe himself to be a king, and like any king, when his kingdom is being threatened he will do everything in his power to do something about it.”

  Kellie leaned against the back seat. “I only hope Michael Lambert comes to his senses quick enough to see Dick’s true nature. He is not his saviour but will be his executioner. I guarantee it.”

  Chapter 12

  Michael’s heart raced when he caught sight of the green Commodore following him. He’d seen it on and off all morning as he drove around completing transactions for Coleani. Was Coleani checking up on him? He doubted it. Coleani would be less subtle. It had to be the police. Neither option was reassuring. Were they trying to trap him?

  Of course they are, he screamed at himself. They know you killed Benedict and Butler…two men you called your friends until the chance to be one of Coleani’s treasured lieutenants came knocking at your door.

  He tried to act brave and distant, liked to think their deaths meant nothing to him, but he couldn’t. He had lived a hard life but nothing had prepared him for squeezing that trigger and ending two lives.

  He no longer believed Coleani would protect him. He'd screwed up. He knew what happened to those that did. He'd killed them. Men he'd considered friends. Now he didn't think Coleani ever had his back.

  He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. How long had they been following him, and what had they seen? Did they know about the deliveries he’d been making? They must, which meant it was only a matter of time before they arrested him.

  Coleani must never know.

  But how could he continue with the police after him? He couldn’t go to prison. That’s where his father was, serving twenty years after a drunken brawl led to manslaughter.

  His mother was no better, having packed up and moved to greener pastures with the first bloke who’d so much as paid an ounce of attention to her. No, he knew he would never survive inside. He was weak, easy prey but he couldn’t betray Coleani, not after all the man had done for him. Clothed him, fed him, given him a place to live and a job. He’d been set for life after proving he had the right stuff.

  But what if he asks you to kill again? Can you do it? An inner voice taunted him.

  “Oh, God,” he whispered.

  If they interrogated him again, it would only a matter of time before he gave in and started spilling the truth about Coleani’s drug operation. Then he’d be a dead man. Coleani’s power spread wide. He doubted he’d ever live to see his testifying day.

  He had to get away, away from Coleani and away from Harbour Bay—hell, away from New South Wales. He’d never been anywhere else but he had always thought he’d like to see Queensland one day. He had been mesmerised by the pictures he’d seen of the Great Barrier Reef.

  Now was the time to do it. He’d been tucking away money for years. Every penny he earned, he’d kept, even skimming a little off Coleani’s clients. While the rest of Coleani’s sons were drinking, snorting, or fucking away their hard-earned cash, he’d been expecting a rainy day. The only good thing his whore of a mother had taught him before she left was how to save money, and her advice had stuck over the years, even after the memory of her face had disappeared.

  He spared another glance in the rear-view mirror. Shit, the Commodore was still t
here. He couldn’t exactly skip town with the cops on his arse. How would he lose them? A horn blasted beside him and he realised he’d been too busy looking back at the cop car to watch the road. He jerked the wheel, bringing his car back into his lane.

  Whatever you plan to do, Mikey, you’d better do it quick.

  Up ahead, the amber light turned red and like a man going to his slaughter he prayed for forgiveness should his next stop be meeting his maker. He stamped down hard on the accelerator and shot through the intersection unscathed, then heard the sound of two cars colliding and glanced back to see his shadow stuck behind the crash.

  Michael deliberately slowed, not wanting to call attention to himself. He was a nervous wreck by the time he turned off the ignition outside his apartment building.

  He knew he didn’t have much time, only a small window of opportunity to get lost. He ran up the inner staircase two at a time, the lift having been broken for years, then opened the door to his small one-bedroom apartment and pried up a floorboard where he kept his money. He grabbed his old backpack and stuffed the loose notes into the large section, zipping it up once he cleared out every last fiver.

  He didn’t bother packing clothes. All that shit could be easily replaced. Looking around, he didn’t believe he’d ever miss this place. When Coleani had first offered it to him, he’d thought it a palace—a place of his own. But now he saw it for the dump that it was.

  He chastised himself for wasting time and made his feet move. He reached the door and yanked it open, his heart pounding as all rational thought exited his head. He forced himself to smile as he looked over at seventeen-year-old Toby McLinden, another of Coleani’s boys, a fellow ex-foster home child.

  “Hey, Toby, I was just heading out. Got to make some drops for Coleani,” he told the boy.

  It wasn’t a lie; he had decided to run halfway through his regular drops and still had a shitload of product sitting in his Saab. Hell, he could easily sell that later when he was out of danger, and he would probably need the money.