Open Wounds (Harbour Bay #2)(31)

“Which is going to cost the taxpayers hundreds of thousands,” a deep baritone voice stated angrily. They all turned to face Superintendent Harris as he barrelled down on them, his face red while a vein throbbed visibly in his temple.

“Just send the bill to Coleani, Boss,” Amelia quipped.

Harris sent her a withering glare. “It appears Coleani didn’t take kindly to your visit earlier.”

Kellie didn’t doubt it. “Apparently. But I’d say he knows nothing about this. He’s more for the subtle approach. This was the work of his younger associates who probably think they’re protecting their boss. Mark my words, when he does learn of this, heads will roll…literally.”

“I’ve already posted a couple officers outside and they’re vetting everyone who pulls in. I don’t want another repeat of this afternoon,” Harris told them.

“They won’t be back,” Amelia said. “They did what they came to do.”

Harris scowled and Kellie knew she didn’t want to be in his shoes right now. It was a public relations nightmare. If the police weren’t safe from the likes of Coleani and his cohorts, what chance did the general public have?

“I’ve already called Hoskins down in facilities and told him to bring something to cover the windows until replacements can be ordered and fitted,” Harris said. Several maintenance men were already sweeping up the broken glass. He turned to Amelia. “I don’t want a war to break out in retaliation but he is to know that this thing won’t be tolerated, understand?”

Amelia nodded.

Prescott moved to the reception desk where he talked quietly to Mandy, the forty-something woman who had the misfortune of being at the desk today. Her eyes were wide but she appeared calm, a great woman to have in the midst of a crisis. She had already rounded people up and delegated tasks. Mandy had probably been a drill sergeant in a previous life; she certainly fit the bill and barking orders seemed to be second nature.

“Let’s go find Lambert,” Amelia said. “Matthews seems to think the quicker, the better. For all we know, this was a delaying tactic so they could dispose of him before we could get our hands on him.”





Chapter 15



Amelia chewed on the end of her pencil. The adrenaline that had been coursing through her bloodstream earlier during the bullet spray had dissipated, leaving her exhausted and emotionally drained. Usually, she lived for this stuff, but today she was finding it hard to summon up much needed energy.

She tried not to let it show. She couldn't afford to appear weak or emotional. No woman of power could because the moment they did they were torn asunder by the competition. Never mind that some of the best leaders in the world had been women. No, a woman was far too emotional. She was going to prove everyone wrong.

Years ago, she had joked about becoming one of Coleani’s girls. God, how long ago was that? It seemed like another lifetime. She hadn’t been serious, of course. Even back then, she had standards and self-respect. Most people in their neighbourhood never managed to scramble out from beneath the garbage, but both Amelia and Kellie had. She hadn’t always liked the way Kellie pushed her, though she understood why and was grateful. In those days, her friend had been determined to claw her way out of the tenements she’d lived in.

Amelia’s memories of the neighbourhood weren’t as bad, though she could smell the strong scent of urine and dope that always permeated the air. During the day it was bad enough, but at night it was the stuff nightmares were made of and the weak were preyed upon. While her mother hadn’t been a peach, at least she hadn’t prostituted herself out like Jules Munroe and she hadn’t lost a father she had loved deeply. Her childhood had been uneventful if not boring, but she had been surrounded by her grandparents’ love, care, and support.

Kellie had no one but her.

She’d been more than her best friend. They were sisters—at least the closest to sisters either of them would get since neither of them had siblings.

Amelia threw down her pencil with disgust. This case could very well be the death of her. It constantly brought up memories better left forgotten.

Amelia struggled to keep her eyes open. She had been running on empty for hours now. As she glanced around the Pig Pen, she considered her career. She loved this place. It was overrun by males but they were for the better part supportive and the kind she could trust to have her back.

From the moment she had stepped through the reception doors downstairs almost seven years ago, she had been on a rampage to be the best, not just to prove it to herself but to the people around her. She had never before had such responsibility and power and the knowledge she was doing something worthwhile in her life boiled her blood.

She had climbed the ranks faster than most of her fellow officers and she knew that they resented the hell out of her, but she worked hard for her achievements. She felt a moment of worry as she wondered if it had all been for nought. If Kellie chose to, she could end her career. Her old friend didn’t know how much she treasured this job, how much she needed it.

It was all she had in life. Something she was good at.

“What the hell happened? It looks like World War Three broke out downstairs,” Nick said, interrupting her thoughts as he entered the Pig Pen. His shirt wrinkled and damp at the armpits. Dean, looking very much the same, followed.