Open Wounds

by Camille Taylor

  All she needed was a reason. Just one, and Coleani was toast. He’d put Kellie through so much pain over the years that Amelia burned to punish him.

  Above them a thunder clap rolled across the night sky, dark grey clouds blocking out the moon, telling them a weather change was coming and a storm would soon be upon them. She squinted into the blackness. There was no sign anyone had seen them pull up. No faces showed at the windows of the building nor did any lights turn on. She turned in her seat and watched the back door of the restaurant as if expecting a full frontal attack.

  A lone light glowed in the back, which she assumed was Coleani’s private office. She stiffened her spine and unclasped her seatbelt before making a move to open her door. Darryl grabbed her arm, halting her from his position in the passenger seat. A white van pulled up beside the restaurant and blocked their view. Two young men exited and opened the back double doors. Another man she recognised as Aaron Huber—Coleani’s muscle—joined them. They spoke for a bit, but the sounds of the water crashing against the wharf nearby masked their words.

  She sensed Kellie freeze between her and Darryl, as if afraid any movement would make the three men look their way.

  Amelia watched as the young men unloaded the van in a few short trips while Huber guarded the vehicle. She didn’t have any doubt as to what the packages contained. Coleani was one of the biggest drug distributors in the state.

  They waited until the van had driven off and Huber had gone inside before climbing out of the car. Amelia felt the usual anticipation course through her body with every step toward the building. She was eager for a faceoff with Coleani.

  As they neared the restaurant’s side door used primarily for deliveries, they heard a raised voice penetrate the wall. “That fucking little bitch. She’s determined to bring me down. Starting with you,” the livid voice fumed.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” someone asked.

  “The end of you, the end of us. A subpoena, Wayne. For your fucking DNA, that’s what I’m talking about. What have you done? What evidence have you left behind?”

  Amelia recognised Coleani’s voice this time. Aidan Carmichael had obviously filed the paperwork in preparation, so they could arrest Wayne Burton. Clearly there was a rat in their house if Coleani knew about it just moments after the fact. She filed away that thought for another day.

  “I told you to sort her out years ago,” Coleani shouted. “The little bitch should’ve been bug food. Nothing but bones by now. Instead she’s causing me more problems than ever.”

  A chill went down Amelia’s spine and she looked over at Kellie. “One guess as to who they’re talking about.”

  Darryl’s expression darkened as he latched onto Coleani’s threats. Amelia could see he longed to pull Kellie into his arms and hold her but he was on the job and couldn’t afford such distractions.

  Exactly why it was never a good idea to hook up with a colleague.

  One moment of hesitation could prove fatal.

  Darryl’s gaze found hers, and she noted his professionalism. Not one hint of inner turmoil showed. Good. She’d have left him behind otherwise. “To me that’s probable cause,” he said.

  She smiled ruthlessly. Coleani’s outburst had not only verified that Burton was inside but had given them sufficient reason to search the restaurant and seize any evidence linking to a crime, such as the cache of drugs that had been delivered just a short while ago.

  “Let’s hope Carmichael is as good as his reputation,” Amelia said.

  After tonight, it would be up to the lawyers. It would be Aidan Carmichael’s job as prosecutor to keep Coleani from walking. With both Coleani and Burton on scene, Aidan should be able to charge Coleani as a co-conspirator, if not an accomplice, to Burton’s crimes.

  Coleani’s ruling days were numbered.

  Darryl jogged back to the car and returned, shrugging on his bullet proof vest. He handed Amelia her own before detaching his mobile from his belt and handing it to Kellie. “Call dispatch. Have them send back-up and whatever you do, stay here,” he ordered in a tone even she wouldn’t ignore.

  Amelia caught Kellie’s gaze. “We’re not kidding. If I see you in there, I’ll shoot you myself for disobedience.”

  “Okay.” Kellie held her hands up, stalling all further orders. “I’m not arguing with you. I’m supposed to be on desk duty, remember? Besides, I’m at a slight disadvantage being unarmed and all.”

  Darryl gave her a look that said he wasn’t convinced by her easy acceptance. Amelia could well understand why. Kellie wasn’t one for following orders. But then, neither was she. Amelia retrieved a small black canister from the belt at her hip. She was always well prepared for any eventuality. She handed it to Kellie, who took it and studied the label in the dim golden glow.

  “Capsicum spray?”

  “If anyone gets past us, I want you to take that sucker down. No one is getting away without first taking a trip to the LAC, understand?”

  “Sure.” Kellie studied her hands. In the left she held Darryl’s mobile and in the right her capsicum spray. “Well, I’m all set. Be careful.”

  Kellie’s eyes said it all. She was afraid for them. Amelia had missed the idea of someone caring whether she came back or not. She nodded to Kellie, who raised Darryl’s mobile and dialled the direct number for dispatch.

  Amelia bent down towards the lock on the door and withdrew a pick gun from her back pocket. It was a favourite among thieves as it was quick and easy to use and didn’t require luck or finesse. The pick was a long white cylinder that resembled the handle of a torch, except it had a small metal torsion wrench sticking out of the top which she placed into the lock and turned on the device. Vibrations moved from the base to the tip causing the lock to rotate.

  She reached the doorknob and it turned easily in her hand as she knew it would. She opened the door an inch and looked through the gap for anyone who may have heard them and were waiting to greet them. As far as she could determine, they were alone. Burton and Coleani must be confined to the office, she assumed. But there was still Huber to consider and any number of unknown felons hiding inside.

  Darryl withdrew his weapon from its tan leather holster and nodded to her. She in turn pushed on the door, opening it wide. Darryl entered first while she provided back-up for him. When he found a safe cover he returned the favour and she followed him into the building, allowing the door to close in her wake.

  They crossed the room slowly, keeping to the shadows as they used the tall stacks they found in what appeared to be a storage room as protection. The room was dark except for a small streak of light spilling from the office up ahead through the open doors. Using their hands, they signalled to each other, talking silently in a code all police officers knew and lived by.

  “You need to fix this,” Coleani was saying as they moved closer. “Otherwise it’ll be you I put in the ground.”

  “It won’t be as easy now. She’s a cop.”

  Her eyes narrowed. From the angle, she could see Coleani sitting behind his desk. He was dressed in a suit that would no doubt have a famous label sown into the silk lining. His focus was off to his right—her blind spot.

  A shadow fell across the wall behind Coleani as the figure moved forward. She caught sight of his hand first, then the cheap creased pleather boots he wore, the soles worn down almost to nothing from overuse. She held her breath as he finally moved into view. Light from the bare overhead bulb shined down on him and she went cold.

  Wayne Burton in the flesh. She pushed back the tidal wave of emotions that came at seeing the man and one glance at Darryl told her he was doing the same.

  “Have you gone soft, Wayne? I know she’s a fucking cop. I don’t care. I want her dead. But I want her to suffer first. Kill them all. Doyle. Hill. Donovan,” he barked. “Then go after her.”

  “Police. Put your hands up,” she shouted.

  Burton turned at that moment and raised the weapon she hadn’t seen. A moment later
a gunshot reverberated throughout the room.

  ***

  Kellie heard the shot. She dropped instinctively to the ground as Darryl’s mobile slipped from her hand and clattered against the pavement several feet away. Two seconds later an answering shot sounded out. She recognised the bang as a Glock 23, the standard weapon for plainclothes police officers.

  Which meant it had either been Darryl or Amelia who had returned fire. She shook uncontrollably as she rose to her feet. Fear threatened to swallow her and she closed her eyes briefly as she gained some much needed control over her body. It hadn’t mattered how she’d tried to overcome it. The sound of a bullet exiting a chamber had always incapacitated her. She could barely hold a gun without becoming a gelatinous blob and had only just managed to pass her weapons competency test that had been compulsory to join the police force.

  Her body refused to move and in the distance she heard the shrill sound of sirens that told her help was on the way. But would Amelia and Darryl survive that long? They may already be injured—or even dead. No. They couldn’t be dead.

  She hesitated. If she went in she could very well turn into more of a hindrance than anything else. But knowing her best friend, and Darryl, were in there pushed her forward. On stiff legs, she moved toward the door.

  She gripped the container of her capsicum spray hard as she slipped quietly inside and stood motionless for a few beats as her eyes adjusted to the unusually dark room. Slowly, she made out shapes. Tall stacks—at least a dozen—of shelves, each filled to capacity with canned items and an assortment of dry goods dominated the space. She was in the restaurant storeroom which made sense since she’d entered through the deliveries entrance. She felt along the cool cylinder, working up from the base to the tip to remove the safety cap. She took a moment to make sure she had the spray nozzle facing away from her.

  Kellie moved cautiously when she saw a figure up ahead in the darkness. The shape told her it was neither Amelia nor Darryl. She’d recognise their silhouettes anywhere. She had no idea how far inside they’d gotten but from the multitude of sounds surrounding her, Kellie knew they were dealing with more than just Burton and Coleani.

  Blood pounded in her ears and the scent of cordite burned in her nostrils.

  Kellie stopped suddenly. The back of her neck tingled and her ingrained survival instincts screamed at her to run. She retreated quickly only to find herself trapped by thick bulging arms as they wrapped around her waist and throat, squeezing hard and cutting off oxygen. Kellie struggled. Her feet dangled in the air as she was lifted up off the ground. Her mind flew into a panic.

  Blackness whirled behind her eyes as little sparks of light mingled with the dark. The nails of her free hand dug into her captor’s arms as she began to hyperventilate. Within minutes she would be unconscious or dead and considering what lay beyond for her, she welcomed death.

  Her brain started to shut down. She knew she should fight back but couldn’t get her limbs to move. She had trained for years in case she was ever confronted with this situation but she hadn’t counted on the emotional element.

  She tried to calm herself, to clear her mind of everything but Nick’s instructions. He had taught her all the dirty moves a woman could utilise to disarm a man. All she had to do was remember and use them. She took deep breaths and relaxed her body, going pliant. Instantly, the behemoth loosened his hold on her which she immediately used to her advantage.

  Her right leg bent at a ninety degree angle as she sent it in motion, allowing her leg to gain velocity as she brought her knee up as high as she could in the air before sending her leg back, the ball of her stiletto slamming hard into her attacker’s knee. Bone snapped and his leg crumpled, almost sending him toppling to the floor, releasing his hold on her. As soon as her left foot touched the ground, she dug the sharp heel of her shoe into his foot, the point of the three inch dagger-like heel piercing the leather of his shoe and stabbing the top of his foot.

  He sent out a yelp, distracted. Kellie swung around and sprayed her attacker with capsicum spray. His hands moved from his knee to his eyes as they burned and he screamed, disorientated. He stepped back, knocking into a stack. Kellie glanced around. She hadn’t completely incapacitated him just yet and would need something more than capsicum spray and her stilettos. She caught sight of a wrench resting beside a can of creamed corn on a shelf. Obviously someone had been fixing the stack but had been too lazy or distracted to return the wrench to the red toolbox that rested at the base of the same stack.

  Kellie snatched up the wrench and before the man could move another inch she’d smacked him hard over the head with the stainless steel tool. The man, who she now recognised as Coleani’s bodyguard, Aaron Huber, fell to the floor in an unconscious heap.

  She rested her hand over her pounding heart and stepped back, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. She removed her shoes, tucking them beside the toolbox before slipping into the next stack, then the next, as she continued further into the room. She made it around two stacks before she tripped over a large prone figure lying outstretched on the floor. Her fists clenched as she squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips together all at once in an effort not to scream.

  Darryl?

  Pain so acute cut through her as she dropped to her knees beside the body and rolled it over. Relief washed over her as she recognised the man as being another one of Coleani’s bodyguards.

  A shaky breath escaped her lips. She couldn’t wait until this night was over. Kellie’s chin jerked up when she saw movement in her peripheral vision. Her heart thumped as Darryl moved around the end of the stack opposite her, his finger poised over the trigger.

  She watched, horrified, as yet another of Coleani’s bodyguards appeared behind him. Kellie couldn’t stop the shout of warning that tore from her mouth any more than she could change the situation. Darryl swung around and had discharged his weapon before Kellie could finish her warning. She’d barely gotten her breath back when another gunshot rang out, the echo ringing painfully in her ears.

  Everything in that moment slowed to a standstill as Darryl fell.

  She screamed his name, the sound wrenched from her throat, the voice that filled the room nothing like her own, so full of anguish that it was palpable before the world became deathly silent.

  She covered her mouth with her hand as tears blurred her vision and rolled down her cheeks. Her body shook violently as she watched the man she loved die, powerless to stop what was already in motion.

  Her heart felt as if it had been torn from her chest.

  She stopped breathing.

  Her lungs burned with the need for oxygen.

  She didn’t care. Couldn’t.

  Nothing hurt more than knowing she had failed Darryl in every way possible.

  Chapter 35

  Amelia stepped out into the open. She scanned the immediate area as she moved toward her partner. She crouched down beside him and without looking at him, felt for a pulse as blood pooled beneath him. She allowed herself a moment of relief when she felt a faint throb beneath her fingertips. The bullet had pierced through his vest.

  Her partner was damned lucky. But only if she got him immediate medical assistance.

  A sob nearby had her turning in Kellie’s direction. She brought her finger up to her mouth, signalling her to be quiet. Her teary friend nodded and covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her sobs.

  From her position on the floor she saw the small shadow streak under a stack. She lowered herself closer to floor and caught sight of someone moving toward her. She twisted the gun on an angle to get it closer to the floor. With some satisfaction she lined up her barrel with the man’s shoes and squeezed the trigger, the pop shaking the nearest stack.

  A cry of pain filled the room as Amelia leapt to her feet in a single motion. She raised her arm higher and set off shot after shot through the stack, each bullet finding her target, some through tins of olives, the brine dripping onto the floor.

  Dick
Coleani’s body fell hard and blood stained the concrete beneath him. She didn’t spare him another thought and turned back to Darryl. She didn’t sense the malice in the air until it was too late.

  The bullet hit her hard, biting into her skin and sending her rocketing to the floor with force. She blacked out for a moment and when she came to, she was staring into Kellie’s tearful face.

  The fear in her eyes told her how much Kellie loved her. She’d made so many mistakes in her life but her biggest regret was allowing her to walk away. She couldn’t believe she’d held onto her hate for so long while her friend had almost died. Now their positions were reversed and she was slipping away.

  “Stay with me,” Kellie whispered desperately, and Amelia could feel her shaking as she took her hand and squeezed hard.

  The pain consumed her. She tried to speak, her voice not working. Her mouth opened and closed and nothing but air came out. She tried again, using the last of her energy to warn her friend. She had seen the man who had shot her, knew that Kellie’s only chance was to get the hell out of there.

  She gripped her wrist, causing her blue eyes to widen.

  “Run,” she said, before the darkness took over.

  Chapter 36

  Wayne Burton slipped out from the cover of the stacks. Satisfaction filled him as he saw the bitch cop go down. He stepped forward, stopping a few feet from Kellie. He stared at the golden tresses of her hair, which hung over her shoulders in a wavy mass.

  “Hello, Kellie.”

  Her chin jerked up and he smiled. He inhaled deeply, his nasal cavities picking up the scent of blood, fear, and the flowery smell he always associated with her. It had been twelve years, but he still remembered.

  Her moist blue eyes condemned him. “You bastard,” she spat.

  His smile grew wider, enjoying her rage. Her lip quivered and he could see the force she was using not to cry openly in front of him. Her hand blurred in his vision and something sailed toward his face. Using his arm, he blocked the empty black canister of capsicum spray from hitting his face.