Fatal Mistake
Page 32
‘You’re just trying to confuse me.’ Tiffany leant back against the boathouse doors, her stance agitated, uncertain. Shifting emotions flickered behind her crazed eyes. The gun dangled in her hands now. ‘You . . . are . . . trying . . . to . . . confuse me . . .’
Damn right, I am.
‘I’m going to shoot you,’ Tiffany announced suddenly. ‘I have a silencer on this gun and the music will hide any other noise. I’ll roll you into the water and use Rocco’s weights to drag you under and keep you down. No one will know what happened to you. Lexie Rogers will just disappear.’
They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, or when you are dying. Lexie had not found that to be the case with her previous near-death experiences. But now she thought of everyone she knew and loved: Josh, her parents, Jayden, Dani. A collage of their faces and memories rolled through Lexie’s mind like a movie.
The music died for a moment and a chorus of laughter exploded from the direction of the house, before the music started up again. Lexie imagined guests dancing, drugged up and full of alcohol, oblivious to what was going on only a short distance away.
‘Move over there!’ Tiffany instructed, pointing towards the back of the shed. ‘I don’t want blood all over my good cushions.’
Suddenly, the boathouse doors flew open. Tiffany, who was leaning against them, stumbled backwards, stunned for a moment. Then she spun around, taking the gun with her, and frantically scanned the darkness. In a frenzy of panic she yelled out, demanding to know who was there.
A shape appeared just outside the doorway. Tiffany yelped with fright and, without waiting to identify the figure, fired once, twice, five times – it was like she was suddenly possessed. Strange, strangled noises oozed from her mouth as her finger continued to pull the trigger.
Lexie crept forward and saw the bullets pummelling and jerking the body before it fell onto the narrow jetty. Just as the body toppled over the edge and into the water, she saw that Tiffany had shot Rocco.
Tiffany emitted an animalistic cry of unadulterated anguish as she realised what she had done.
Lexie lunged. Her fist slammed into the side of Tiffany’s horrified face so hard she felt the cheekbone crack under the impact. Tiffany screamed, doubling over with pain. Officer survival skills taught at the academy came rushing back to Lexie like a boomerang. She grabbed the arm holding the gun with one hand, pointed it towards the ocean and chopped down on Tiffany’s wrist with the edge of her free hand as hard as she could. The gun rattled as it hit the jetty. Still whimpering, Tiffany chased the gun, but Lexie didn’t give her the chance, bringing her knee up to meet her face. There was another scream as blood fountained from Tiffany’s nose. Lexie struck again, this time kicking Tiffany in the groin, connecting with the male genitalia she obviously still had.
Lexie watched Tiffany collapse through the boathouse doors and onto the floor, rolling around between her precious cushions, her hands cupped between her legs as blood poured from her face. Tiffany was not tough, Lexie thought. She was a weakling trying hard to be anything but.
Lexie picked up the gun and pointed it at Tiffany, who was whimpering and cursing Lexie to death.
‘That is from all those people you killed when you blew up the Assassins’ clubhouse.’
Lexie edged back, creating a distance between them. She wasn’t out of danger yet. She still had to get out of here before Lucky or Johnny showed up and realised what was happening.
‘You are under arrest . . .’ Lexie’s voice sounded eerily calm, which was disturbing. She reached into her handbag, and found her mobile phone.
‘Shoot me,’ Tiffany pleaded, still groaning on the floor. The blood from her nose was now puddling around her head. ‘Just shoot me.’ She started to struggle to a sitting position. Lexie kept the gun aimed on her. ‘If you don’t shoot me I will kill you.’ Tiffany glanced towards the back of the shed, where Lexie’s gun lay beside the bathroom door.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Lexie warned.
A shadow clouded Tiffany’s eyes as she made her decision. She moved swiftly, scampering across the floor like an injured crab. Lexie screamed at her to stop, to freeze. Tiffany ignored her. Her hand came down on the Beretta.
Lexie hesitated. Her mind scrambled for an alternative. She could not back away and leave this lunatic with a gun. And if Lexie didn’t shoot, she would be shot. ‘Don’t do it!’
Tiffany picked up the gun. ‘I’m going to kill you!’ she screamed.
‘No, you’re not.’
Lexie fired.
Tiffany’s body fell back against the wall. Lexie rushed forward, snatching her gun from between Tiffany’s dead hands. Her eyes were still wide, staring hatefully at Lexie.
Running out of the boathouse, Lexie found Batman on the grassy landing at the water’s edge. He had been shot and was not breathing.
Cold tendrils of fear and dread threatened to suffocate her.
She called for an ambulance and police assistance and then pulled back Batman’s jacket and tore open his shirt. There was enough light to see the bloodied wound where the bullet had ripped into his stomach. She wanted to scream for help but no one would hear her. For now, the party guests were still blissfully unaware their host and hostess were dead. Going back into the boathouse, Lexie bundled scarves and a tapestry into her arms and rushed back to Batman. Packing the material onto his wound, she clamped down to try to stop the bleeding.
‘Lexie, start CPR.’
She spun around, stared at empty space. There was nobody there. Was that Lincoln’s reassuring voice coming to her from another dimension? She didn’t have time to contemplate anything besides helping Batman. Nothing else seemed significant when a work colleague, a friend, was dying in front of her.
‘CPR, Lexie. Now.’
Mechanically, Lexie tilted Batman’s head back, blocked his nose, took a breath and blew into his mouth. She did this twice, trying to remember the repetitions. Then, straddling him, one knee on either side of his torso, she began chest compression.
There was no response.
She could feel a sob building deep inside her, but held it back. There was no time for tears now.
‘Don’t . . . you . . . die . . . on . . . me . . . Batman,’ Lexie panted, keeping up the compressions. She checked his pulse, huffed another breath down his throat and went back to pumping his chest. ‘I will seriously kill you if you die on me,’ she said angrily, feeling the need to keep talking, say anything. ‘You are going to be okay. The ambulance will be here any minute and then I’ll stop, but not until then. I’m not giving up, so don’t you either.’
Tears ran down her face as she continued with the CPR. Batman showed no response but deep down she had a feeling he would be all right. As long as she didn’t stop. Her instincts were usually right, she kept telling herself. But there was also a niggling voice of doubt pushing its way to the forefront of her brain, warning her any hope for Batman’s survival was purely wishful thinking.
CHAPTER 55
Brad and Dani sat in their unmarked police car a block from Rocco’s address, counting the minutes and waiting for the call to move in. It came earlier than expected.
‘It’s Rachel, Brad.’ She sounded panicked. ‘Move in urgently.’ She didn’t waste time on explanations.
Lexie is in danger.
‘The tactical guys have just arrived.’ Rachel told him.
‘We’re two minutes away,’ Brad told her and hung up.
Dani, sensing something was wrong, had already edged out of their parking spot and into the street. As they sped the short distance to Rocco’s house, Brad tried not to dwell on what they might encounter. He felt a sweat break out across his forehead and a sick feeling pervade his gut. Now is not the time for one of those weird episodes, he told himself. Hold it together.
Brad’s heart plummeted when he saw an ambulance parked in Rocco’s driveway.
They jumped out of their car and followed the paramedics across the back y
ard.
‘Hey, mate, what are you here for?’ Brad called out.
The older man of the two turned, waved him along. ‘There’s been a shooting. Follow us.’
Brad’s and Dani’s weapons came out instinctively. They shadowed the paramedics, wary of their surroundings. As they passed the large deck at the rear of the house, Brad saw partygoers through the glass walls. Blue uniforms were everywhere. The music they could hear streets away was now off. Some guests were making a scene, struggling with police, screaming they had done nothing wrong. Others appeared to be cooperating quietly.
They crossed the sloped yard, heading towards the water. There was a short flight of stone steps leading down to a landing and a boatshed to their left. Here Brad and Dani moved in front of the paramedics, shielding them until they assessed the situation and knew what they were dealing with. It was so quiet Brad could hear his own breathing. He saw something floating in the water – a body?
Oh please, no.
On the landing in front of him, Brad saw Lexie crouched over someone, performing CPR. Brad’s sense of relief was immense. He was unprepared for Dani’s scream and flinched as she pushed past him and fell to the ground beside Lexie.
‘No!’ she cried. ‘What happened? No, this can’t . . .’ She pawed at the man on the ground. Brad realised with shock it was Batman.
Lexie didn’t answer Dani. She continued CPR like a woman possessed, until one of the paramedics gently moved her away. She glanced up at him as though he were but an apparition.
‘Is he going to be okay?’ Lexie clutched at the paramedic’s arms. ‘Is he going to live?’
‘Let the medics do their job, Lex.’ Brad moved forward, took her shoulders and lifted her from the ground. He guided her back. ‘They’ll do everything they can to save him. You’ve done a good job, now let them do theirs.’ He stared at Dani, who was sobbing beside Batman. The paramedics were working around her.
Brad said, ‘Dani, move back, let the paramedics do—’
‘It’s okay,’ one of them said, summing up the situation. He gave Brad a nod. ‘We’ve got room.’
‘What’s his name?’ one asked Dani.
‘Sean,’ she sobbed. ‘His name is Sean.’ Dani was stroking Batman’s head while they worked on him, calmly issuing instructions to one another, attaching IV lines, checking his vitals, and injecting god knows what into his motionless body.
Brad hugged Lexie to his side as they stared. He glanced down at her dress and saw the blood. ‘Are you all right?’
She nodded mutely, pointed at Batman. It was his blood, not hers.
The younger paramedic readied the defibrillator and told Dani to move back. He yelled ‘Clear’, and slapped the paddles onto Batman’s chest. Lexie began to shake. Brad pulled her tighter against him. They all watched as Batman’s young, fit body jerked into the air, then hit the ground again. They repeated the process. Everyone watched the monitor. The coloured line did not buckle or waver. It remained straight; like a flat piece of rope stretched across the screen.
‘Please be okay.’ Lexie’s voice was so soft, so fractured, Brad hardly heard it. He muttered the only words that came to mind.
‘He’s in the right hands, Lex. The paramedics are doing their best to save him.’
Lexie looked up at him doubtfully. Her face was a mask of dread and sorrow. They had both heard those words before. They both knew that sometimes the best was not enough.
CHAPTER 56
Berni knew this situation was not her fault, but that didn’t make it any less devastating. She had thought Rocco ran a professional business, would have thought he was smarter than to let people into his world he didn’t know well enough to trust. Seriously, these guys were buffoons! Either that or Lexie Rogers was one fucking good UC.
Berni was gutted, filled with bitter anger and disappointment, though she didn’t have time to wallow in shattered dreams. Rocco and his men were going down. And there was no way she was being dragged into the shit with them. What she needed to do now was distance herself from Club Hellfire and everyone associated with the place. Which included TJ.
Luckily, there was nothing to link Berni to the club. She hardly knew them, after all; had only met Rocco the other night. That knowledge gave her the slightest bit of relief. It was short-lived. A buzz of worry started to hum in the back of her mind. There was no way she could be implicated. No way. Right? Rocco would have been under surveillance. For a moment, Berni worried that she might have been recorded. No – not possible.
She thought of her father and instantly felt sick. Berni wound the car window down, welcomed the warm air blowing against her face as she watched the street scene flash past. People were out, on their way to wherever, enjoying the evening seemingly without a care in the world. If only she was one of them. Concentrating on her breathing, Bernie tried to calm the turbulence in her gut.
TJ hadn’t said a word since they’d left Rocco’s. She gazed sideways at him. He was staring at the road absently, navigating the dark streets. Berni gently touched his leg and TJ gave her a furtive glance. He was sweating bullets, perhaps just realising the depth of shit he could be in. Gazing past his cute, boyish exterior, she saw him for what he really was: a petty drug dealer, and a user.
‘Did you know?’ TJ narrowed his eyes at her, his tone low and laced with mistrust. ‘Did you know that Lara – or whatever her name is – was working undercover in the club, on Rocco and the boys?’
Bernie hadn’t expected suspicion and shook her head adamantly. ‘No, of course I didn’t. Don’t start accusing me of . . . of . . . whatever you’re accusing me of.’
‘You’re a fucking cop,’ TJ said. ‘You wanted me to introduce you to Rocco so you could prevent these things from happening.’ He started twitching, rubbing his free hand up and down his leg. ‘Are you sure you’re not part of it, this undercover sting or whatever you pigs call it?’
Berni forced herself to remain calm. She couldn’t have TJ freak out on her now.
‘You know I’m not a part of it. Think logically. I have done things with you—’ she tapped her nose, ‘—that are not exactly legal.’ Berni chose her words carefully. ‘I’ve only met Rocco once, besides tonight. I’m not on any payroll or retainer to protect anyone. This is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. And trust me, I’m not happy about this situation either. I could be incriminated too, you know. Now is not the time to get paranoid or turn on each other. We need to get our stories straight and stick together.’ Berni squeezed his leg. ‘I love you.’ She had never said those words before. They were necessary now. TJ had to stay on her side.
‘I love you too.’ He reached for her hand and kissed it. Berni thought he looked delighted, relieved and terrified all at once. ‘I’m sorry for doubting you. I’m just scared.’
‘Don’t be scared.’ Her heart was doing somersaults, but she somehow steadied her voice. ‘This is what we’re going to do . . .’
She formatted a list in her head. Berni was confident she could evade any link, all involvement with Rocco and his gang. She would make sure TJ stayed clear of trouble too – she didn’t trust he wouldn’t cave if he was cornered.
‘The cops are going to talk to you, TJ. I don’t know when, but they will speak to everyone that works at, or is an associate of the club. You tell them everything, because you have nothing to hide.’
TJ’s face wrinkled in confusion.
‘Just listen . . . I was not at that party tonight. In fact, you don’t know me. When you are questioned, say you’re a barman, nothing else. You know nothing else. You were at the party for a while then felt unwell and left. You saw no drugs used while you were there. That is all you know. Let them prove otherwise.’
He nodded.
‘You need to lie low for a while.’ She was thinking like a cop now. ‘Don’t use your phone. Don’t call me.’ She shrugged when he looked horrified. ‘It’s better to be safe than sorry.’
They were outside her building. They found a
parking spot in the street and, as they got out of the car, Berni noticed TJ’s hands were shaking so much he could hardly grasp the handle to open the door.
‘Come up and we’ll talk some more, make plans. Then you should go back to your place and get rid of anything that could be used against you. I’ll do the same.’
They walked up the two flights of stairs in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. When Berni unlocked the door to her flat, she gasped in shock. Four men in suits were inside, pulling apart her home. She started to tremble and her heart took a plunge as a dizzying array of emotions shot through body: shock, fear, outrage. Clutching the wall for support, it began to register that these were cops and this was a search warrant.
‘What the hell is going on? Who are you?’ Berni bellowed, her voice at least ten octaves higher than normal. She had decided the best defence was to attack.
She heard movement behind her and turned in time to see TJ running down the stairs.
Chicken-shit . . .
‘Oh, you’re home early. Professional Standards Command, Ms Kirk,’ a skinny man with a long pencil nose told her, moving forward. ‘This is the occupier’s notice of the search warrant we are conducting.’
Berni stared at the paper between her fingers as though it was a severed head. The unreality of her predicament had blood draining from her face and coagulating at her feet, rendering her unable to move. Raising her eyes from the document, she glanced around at the mess they had made. Drawers hung open, their contents scattered across the floor. Cupboards stood wide open. Some of her stuff had been stacked in a corner of the living room. Furniture had been shifted, items upended. Her eyes fell on the red plush-pile rug in the middle of the room, then on the items that could be her undoing.
Another man muttered something to Pointy Nose and then stepped forward and ushered Berni inside, closing the door and securing the latch behind her. Like a car accident, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Was she still pissed, or in shock? No, Berni was feeling a bitter despondency. There was a badge in her face. One of the men was telling her she was under investigation for . . .