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Open Wounds

Page 17

by Camille Taylor


  ***

  Kellie stepped past the tall stacks of boxes that held decades of cases from all over Harbour Bay and the surrounding areas under their jurisdiction. Each sealed box contained the collected evidence from each case. She sneezed, the dust in the musty air tickling her nose and ignored the sadness that welled up inside her at the thought of so many unsolved cases. She tried to stop herself from thinking about how many people, like her, hadn’t found closure. This was the place where murderers went free and hope came to die.

  Part of the shared basement, next to the inbuilt gym, had been dedicated to all the cold cases that had gone through the LAC. Chain mail fencing surrounded the main core of the basement where the evidence was kept and continuously monitored by cameras and officers on shift.

  Kellie found the M row and using the stepladder from the aisle, climbed up the metal steps and lifted a large cardboard box down from the shelf.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Startled, she almost dropped the box. She glowered at Darryl. His shirt had come untucked since she'd last seen him, a coffee stain on his red tie. His short light brown hair stuck up in tufts as if he had been running his fingers through the strands. Despite all that, he still managed to look utterly gorgeous and her heart began to race for an entirely different matter.

  “How’d you know I was here?”

  He smiled up at her. “I saw you park your car and head down.” Darryl climbed to stand just a few rungs beneath her. “Amelia said you were obsessed,” he added, motioning to the box she held in her hands.

  “Wouldn’t you be? After twelve years, this is the closest I’ve ever gotten.”

  She sat down on the top step and opened the box. Darryl moved to sit beside her. The heat from his body seeped into her own and she almost moaned aloud at the deliciousness of it. Despite the boiling hot shower, she still felt cold. Would she ever be warm again?

  Kellie lifted a plastic evidence bag from the box and held the heavy weapon in her hand. Darryl’s eyes widened. “Is that the—”

  “The twenty-two he used to shoot me? Yes, it is, with my dried blood on the barrel. It was found tossed into a dumpster two blocks over from where I was shot. Wiped clean, of course.”

  She found the small plastic container with the discharged bullet they’d retrieved from the concrete behind her head where it lodged itself after gliding along her temple. The bullet rattled inside the container.

  Darryl clenched his jaw. “We’re going to get this guy, Kellie, I promise you that.”

  Tears spilled down her cheek. The tenderness and utter conviction in his voice was her undoing. She couldn’t swallow back the sob that escaped and instead of being horrified over the emotional scene, Darryl simply pulled her closer to him and pushed her head against his shoulder. He wrapped comforting arms around her and held her tight.

  Kellie felt raw. For twelve years she had battled her past alone. Had dealt with her nightmares and debilitating aftermath. Had managed to secure a position in the NSW Police Force despite her fear of guns and her inability to touch one. Now Darryl offered to fight her battles alongside her. He’d been her rock since the start of this case. What would she do without him?

  She melted into him and allowed him to hold her while the storm of emotions played out. When the sobs subsided, she pulled back just far enough to look into his caring eyes and her stomach fluttered. She touched his stubble roughened cheek with the palm of her hand and caressed him before leaning in to kiss him lightly on his soft and sensual lips.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Chapter 27

  Amelia sat at her desk looking down at the sketch of Wayne Burton. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen the man before, on the street, hanging around Coleani’s establishments or even downstairs getting fingerprinted.

  He was no stranger to the building, having been brought here ten times over the past twenty years for a variety of crimes. Surprisingly enough, not one of them had been rape. She didn’t doubt Kellie’s memory and the sketch only confirmed her ID.

  She couldn’t imagine the emotions that must be going through her friend at the present moment. Amelia recalled seeing her in the hospital bed. Her head had been bandaged, her blonde hair matted with blood. She’d looked so small and delicate covered with the thin blanket, her body hooked up to an array of beeping machines.

  Her whole life she’d never needed to cry, but she’d wanted to, and had done so for Kellie when she’d gone home. She knew Kellie wouldn’t have allowed her to do so in her presence—just as she wouldn’t have if their roles had been reversed—so she’d bottled up her volatile feelings for later.

  Never would she’d have guessed it would be more than a decade later before they’d be let loose.

  ***

  Twelve Years Ago

  Harbour Bay Base Hospital

  Amelia stepped forward, toward the hospital bed. Her heart pounded in her chest and tears threatened to escape down her cheeks as she imagined the pain her friend went through, and continued to go though. From the moment she and Kellie had first met at school, they’d never been separated.

  Until now.

  Why had she left Kellie alone? Why hadn’t she walked her home? All these questions filled her head only to have no answers. She should’ve been with her, knew that now, and allowed the blame to fall squarely on her shoulders.

  Amelia shivered as she took in the sterile room. Clean and empty. There were no flowers or get well soon cards bar the Canna lilies—Kellie’s favourite—that she was holding.

  She moved closer to the bed and reached out to touch Kellie’s hand.

  “Don’t touch me,” she screeched as her eyes opened wide, sensing a disturbance in the surrounding air. Her body shook and the heart rate monitor beeped rapidly as her blood pressure shot up.

  Amelia stepped back, afraid to set her off. Dark circles marred the soft skin of her face, light purple discolouration dotting her arms, neck, and face.

  “Are you in pain?” she asked as she placed the flowers down on the table beside the bed.

  “Not anymore. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to see you. I wanted to make sure you’re going to be all right.” She stopped, her throat closing and she fought not to cry. Her friend was broken and in pain. Kellie had always been so full of life, until last night, when she had fought for that life almost to the last minute.

  “I don’t want to see anybody,” Kellie informed her, her voice barely audible.

  “Except me right, Kel, your best friend? We share everything, why would you think we wouldn’t share this too?”

  “This is something that can’t be shared and I’d rather be alone when I go through it if you don’t mind. I don’t want anyone to know the details of last night.”

  “That isn’t going to be happen, so get used to me being here.” She glanced around the empty room. “Am I your first visitor?”

  “They called my mum, but she had to work,” Kellie replied and shrugged as if it meant nothing when in fact it meant everything. “What can you do?”

  Amelia clenched her hands into fists. The rage she felt at knowing Kellie’s mother left her only daughter to go through this alone was enough to put murder on her brain. She had never liked the woman but had endured her for Kellie’s sake. As far as Amelia was concerned she was an utter failure at everything she did including raising her daughter.

  Kellie said it was because of her father, that her mother had loved him so much that after he was gone a part of her left too. But Amelia didn’t buy that crap. In her opinion Jules Munroe only cared about one person and that was herself. Kellie was just an ornament, like a plant that gets watered at the end of a long day’s work.

  The only time Jules spared a moment for her daughter was the first few minutes once she got home at seven in the morning after her shift and ate the breakfast her daughter made for her. But in Kellie’s eyes her mother was doing the best she could. It just wasn’t the best anyone hoped
for.

  Amelia never knew her own father. He’d left the same day—the same hour—he’d knocked up her fifteen-year-old mother, who was no peach herself. For the first five years of her life, Amelia moved from one floor mattress to another around the neighbourhood.

  She survived on other people’s kindnesses until DoCS had stepped in and removed her from her mother’s lack of care. A week later, her mother’s parents had come and collected her. They were for the most part unforgiving, determined that she did not follow their daughter’s dark path, but they loved her. For the first time in years she’d gone to bed every night after bathing, her stomach full.

  She didn’t even mind brushing her teeth but her childish brain still believed her mother would come for her, that she wouldn’t want to live her life without her daughter, and for years, Amelia had continued to believe it. Until one night when two police officers came to her grandparents’ caravan with the news that Bree Donovan was dead, a victim of stupidity, and with it went Amelia’s dream of her mother returning to claim her.

  But the one constant in her life had been her grandparents. They’d fought at times, even drove her mad at their attempts to control her, but they did just about anything for her. She never lacked or wanted in her life, and she knew that should she ever call them, they would be there for her, wherever she was, ready to help her with whatever she needed.

  A wave of sympathy went through her, knowing how alone Kellie was. How her own mother couldn’t find the time to visit her in the hospital, a victim of rape.

  Amelia felt grateful for those she had, but Kellie did have someone who cared—her—and she would do anything for her friend. She was everything to her, the air she breathed, the reason she got up in the morning, the sister she never had and her only friend in the world. She antagonised a lot of people, and Kellie was the only one to stick around after being introduced.

  Amelia had always seen their neighbourhood as just another place to live. Moving around in her younger years like a nomad had made her settle in, had her thinking this was as good as it got. Kellie had always been different. She knew there was a better life out there and was determined to be a part of it. Amelia had seen the drug dealers and the prostitutes and thought nothing of it. That everywhere in the world was the same low grade rent, but now she saw it for what it was—human degradation. She knew now of the things that went bump in the night. It had been too late for Kellie.

  She couldn’t imagine the pain she felt, what she was going through, but it made her ache to know that her friend was hurting. If only she could take it all away. If only she’d been the one to be attacked and not Kellie.

  Could she truly heal mentally, or was her friend doomed to remain fragmented? She itched to hold her, to comfort her the only way she knew how. Amelia wasn’t the easiest person to love and people in pain weren’t usually something she sought out. She had always been unable to tap into that part of her that gave people hope or comfort and she felt out of her league, but her friend needed her, now more than ever. Amelia was determined to give her something—anything.

  “But I’m here. So that’s all that matters. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  Kellie shook her head slightly before wincing. “I don’t want you here.”

  Pain, hot and sharp sliced through Amelia at the words. The voice speaking them didn’t sound like the girl she had known for ten years, the tone dead and cool, so unlike Kellie’s exuberant bouncy tenor.

  “Kellie, please don’t push me out. You’re everything to me and all I want to do is help you. I couldn’t be there for you last night, to stop him from hurting you, but I’m here now. Let me stay. Please.”

  “I don’t feel like reassuring you right now. I’m the one whose life has ended. I don’t care about anyone else. I don’t care how you feel. I only have room for me and I don’t want you to know what he did to me.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me. You’re still Kellie, my best friend. No one can take that away from us no matter how hard they try. Concentrate on getting better but know that I’m here. That I’m not about to let anything else happen to you if it’s the last thing I do. I promise you that, Kel.”

  “Just go away please. Let me deal with this on my own.”

  Amelia stared into Kellie’s watery eyes and saw bleakness. She nodded, telling Kellie silently that she was fulfilling her wish and turned toward the door just as it opened and an older gentleman, dressed in an inexpensive suit, stood just in the entrance.

  “Kellie Munroe?” he asked, his smoker’s voice filling the room. “I’m Detective Ed Graham and I’ve been assigned to your case.”

  Amelia’s eyebrow rose. Usually people in their neighbourhood avoided the cops like the plague, and she’d not known any that had willingly helped anyone whose address was in Coleani’s territory.

  “I didn’t realise a girl like me would rank high enough to warrant a detective,” she told the cop acidly. Kellie’s sharp tongue hadn’t diminished in the last few hours.

  He moved into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He brought out his notebook from his pocket and allowed it to tap against his thigh as he approached the bed.

  “I don’t care about your address or where you come from or what you do. I only care about the crime committed and the person left behind. I’m going to do everything in my power to find the man who did this to you,” Detective Graham promised.

  Kellie nodded, her hand trembling as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Amelia had to admit he sounded sincere, like he meant every word. Time would only tell if he was a man of his word, and God only knew how few of those there were.

  She refused to budge when he asked her to leave. He scowled before relenting, probably deciding it wasn’t worth arguing the case or maybe sensing it might be best to keep her in the room. Kellie wasn’t exactly stable and could crumble if left alone with an unknown man. She watched as Detective Graham surveyed Kellie on the bed. His gaze analysed her bandaged head and the few bruises that showed above her blanket. He raised his notepad and pen in preparation to write.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

  “Haven’t you people already taken enough from me? My clothes, swabs, photos. I’ve been poked and prodded and now all I want to do is forget this ever happened.” A tear spilled over onto Kellie’s cheek, rolling down to be absorbed by the white pillow under her head. Her hands shook slightly as she swallowed convulsively.

  “I know this is hard for you, Miss Munroe, but the best bet I have in finding the scum that did this to you is with your cooperation. I need you to tell me everything.”

  Kellie turned her head away, her entire body shaking beneath the blanket.

  Amelia frowned and stepped forward, closer to her friend. “Must you do this now?” Amelia asked Detective Graham.

  Kellie could only take so much, and Amelia was concerned with her state of mind.

  “It would be easier to get the questions over with now, while the unfortunate event is still fresh in her mind.” He turned back to Kellie. “I wish I wasn’t the one to say this, Miss Munroe, but I don’t believe you will ever fully forget what happened last night.”

  Amelia itched to lay her hand on Kellie’s, but she sensed it would be of no help at the moment and would only hurt the situation. She crossed her arms over her chest to keep herself from temptation as Detective Graham continued.

  “There is nothing to be ashamed or feel humiliated about, Miss Munroe. You are not to blame for anything.”

  Kellie turned her head slowly, her eyes red and weeping. “You’ve never been raped have you, Detective?” she asked as her chin wobbled. “Never had someone claim your body without your permission. Never had someone you’d never met before put his disgusting hands all over you, to rip and tear your clothes while he took away the only thing you had control over in life.”

  Kellie exhaled, shaking, as her hands linked together so tightly her skin paled. “Yes, I feel ashamed. Ashamed that I couldn�
��t stop him, prevent him from hurting me. To save myself and fight back. Humiliated that he could so easily take from me what he wanted without so much as a proper fight, that he used my body, desecrating it, making me feel dirty, like a whore. Yes, I know, it wasn’t my fault. But I should’ve known better. After all, it was Coleani’s neighbourhood, and I knew what might be there, so I should’ve been more cautious.”

  Detective Graham moved closer and looked down at her in compassion, like a man who was thinking of his own daughter and imagining her in the same position.

  “It wasn’t your fault, and while you may not see that now, one day you will. Instead of sitting there wallowing in self-pity—”

  “Hey,” Amelia said, interrupting him. “You’re out of line.”

  “You should help me catch the son-of-a-bitch so that we can hang him up by his balls,” Ed continued, as if Amelia hadn’t spoken.

  Kellie cracked a wry smile. “What is it you want to know, Detective?”

  He nodded and Amelia could see the glint of admiration in his eyes as he took in Kellie’s small form and fierce personality. “What can you remember about the man? What did he look like? Feel like? Anything you can tell me will help me. There are no wrong answers or stupid insights. Just tell me everything.”

  Kellie nodded and Amelia could feel the effort she used to stay calm and in control. She bit down on her lip, hard enough to draw blood. After what seemed like an eternity, she spoke with a quaking voice.

  “He smelled like smoke and bad B.O. His eyes were dark and his hair was either brown or black. I can’t tell much more because we were in the dark but sometimes when he moved a strand of moonlight would hit his head and I could see the grease in his hair.”

 

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