Open Wounds (Harbour Bay #2)(23)
A loud banging sounded behind them, and both she and Darryl glanced over as Amelia—dressed in jeans, boots, a Broncos shirt and a leather jacket—strode towards them, her long gait eating up the distance while the scowl on her face warned them, approach at your own risk.
Kellie stood and placed the travel mug down on Amelia’s desk. She gave Amelia her bright jubilant smile and said, “Here you go, sunshine.”
Amelia glared up at her, her mouth disfigured into a snarl.
“Fuck off, Kellie,” she growled.
“And a good morning to you too,” Kellie replied, her smile never wavering. She knew what got on Amelia’s nerves; bouncy and energetic was at the top of the list. “Still not a morning person I see.”
Amelia shook her head. “Jesus, Kellie, what the hell are you wearing? We’re not on parade here.”
Kellie looked down at her clothes, then over at Amelia’s casual look. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
She turned to Darryl, who shrugged and said, “I’m not getting involved in this.”
Kellie fingered the hem of her blouse self-consciously. She liked her clothes, which screamed professional, and gave her a slightly cool, keep away sign that saved her time knocking back unwanted advances. She was always the aggressor, never allowing another control. It was the only way she could be intimate without panicking.
Amelia took a sip of the coffee from Kellie’s travel mug and her eyes bulged as the caffeine entered her blood stream. She felt some satisfaction when Mia looked down at the cup in surprise. She liked her coffee strong, especially on days like this when she’d had little sleep the night before and knew it would be a long and tiring day.
“No offence, but your outfit is a little stiff,” Amelia said. “You know, rigid. The kind that says you don’t know how to have fun, that you have no idea what spontaneity is.”
“They’re work clothes. They’re supposed to be bland and practical.”
“All I’m saying is, how are you supposed to run down a criminal in three-inch heels? I don’t see that as being practical.”
“I sit behind a desk five days out of seven. I’m not chasing anybody down any streets. I don’t need a lot of movement or comfort in my clothes.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not in the office anymore, sweetheart. While you’re a part of our team, you might have to do that, and I’d rather you not break an ankle.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good, because we’re going to make a little visit to Coleani and ask some questions and if we’re lucky, ruffle some feathers.”
Kellie’s body temperature dropped at the thought of casting her eyes on the man she’d hated for so long. She had never met him in person, never wanted to, and had managed to avoid it. Now it seemed her luck had run out.
“I’m sure we can manage that.”
Amelia smiled at her, the look in her eyes telling her that she’d thought of the times they’d interfered with Coleani’s business in the past. It was about to happen again.
“I’m sure we can.”
They’d been threatened by Coleani’s runners more than once in her youth, but she’d never been scared. No one did anything without Coleani’s authority and she wasn’t afraid of him. He’d already taken everything he could from her, and she’d doubted he even knew she existed—or cared, for that matter. She was nothing but a spit in the ocean to him. It had been a bold move to go up against Coleani, but that hadn’t stopped her from speaking out against the obvious corruption. Her voice had been lost in a crowd of people. Nothing she ever did made any dent in the world, and she figured if she pissed him off, she would hear about it. He’d almost been a stepfather to her. Even now, she practically gagged at the thought.
She steeled her backbone, glad she’d dressed in her business attire, not casual like Amelia. She would need every bit of protection she could get, and as they said, the clothes made the woman. She felt confident and powerful in her heels and suit.
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.