Open Wounds (Harbour Bay #2)(52)

His dark obsidian eyes seemed to pierce her soul as the image seared her while a fleeting memory played across her mind. The face of the man leaning over her in the moonlight as he raised the twenty-two that had almost killed her.

Her heart stopped briefly before beating frantically in her chest.

So this is what a panic attack feels like, she thought as her legs gave out.

Darryl caught her before she hit the ground and held her upright, while Amelia vacated her chair. Together they guided her onto the seat gently as if she might shatter.

“That’s the man.” Her voice trembled. She hated how weak she sounded.

Years of not knowing, of never believing she would find him, and there he was right in front of her. Where she least expected him. She struggled to regain control of her body.

“You know who that is?” Darryl asked, concern etched on his face. Concern for her. She swallowed hard at the lump in her throat, nodding.

Amelia studied her. “Who is he?”

“The man who raped me.”

Darryl’s hands tightened around her arms where he held her. Nick and Dean abruptly turned their heads in her direction, the movement drawing her attention. Her face flushed in mortification. She’d forgotten they were there, though she’d always suspected Nick had guessed something of her past. She shivered when she caught the unrestrained anger in their eyes and bodies. They both remained silent which helped her unwarranted embarrassment.

“Wayne Burton,” Amelia read from the screen.

The devil has a name.

She recited his list of crimes and was surprised to find no mention of rape. Assault and drug possession made sense; he’d been particularly aggressive with her.

“Kellie, are you sure?”

“Believe me. That’s the one face I’ll remember until the day I die. Can you bring up my case file?”

Amelia leaned over and typed her name into the case retrieval program. The digital copy of the report filed and photos taken came up immediately on screen. She flicked through them, quickly reading the description Kellie had given to Detective Graham. It fit, that much was certain. But it also fit a lot of other men too.

Kellie frowned. “It’s gone. The facial reconstruction I did with the sketch artist is gone. Coleani must have gotten to it.”

“He wouldn't want it to blowback in his direction,” Amelia stated.

“You two never thought of having the detective check into this before?” Darryl asked incredulously.

Amelia shook her head.

“There was no correlation at the time,” Kellie said. “It never crossed my mind that it could have been one of his boys carrying out orders.”

She’d never once believed he’d strike out at her, but if Wayne Burton had attacked her, he’d done it with Coleani’s approval.

Kellie rose to her feet, fighting a head spin as she stormed off towards the elevator.





Chapter 25



Kellie pulled into her driveway too fast, slamming on the brakes and stopping just inches from her garage door. She jerked in her seat as the safety belt prevented her from flying forward.

Stopping her vehicle beside Kellie’s car, Amelia climbed out and waited for her to join her. She was wasting her time. She wasn’t interested in anything she had to say at the moment. Her world was spiralling out of control and she fought to make sense of what happened to her one night twelve years ago.

Had Coleani really been behind it all?

She knew he hadn’t liked her scaring away business, but to go as far as to remove her from this world into the next? Should she really be surprised? He was a brutal man who would have no compunctions killing anyone if it served him a purpose.

She located her house key on the chain and after several failed attempts finally unlocked the door. She made her way through the dark house, Amelia following behind turning on the lights as she went.

“Kellie, calm down. What are we doing here?” she asked as Kellie opened the door to her bedroom and walked into her closet, pulling at the boxes resting on the shelf above the neatly organised clothes.

She found the box she wanted and dumped it down on her bed which was still rumpled from her sexual exploits. She ignored the rush of delightful memories as she pulled the cardboard top off and stared down into the miscellaneous mixture of photographs she would one day organise into albums. She sifted through the box, moving things aside until she came across the piece of paper she’d been looking for. It was folded down the centre twice, just slightly smaller than a photograph. She unfolded the twelve-year-old paper and looked down at the artist’s rendering of the man she now knew as Wayne Burton.

Her stomach churned. Her sixteen-year-old mind remembered everything. Like she had said, it was the one face she wouldn’t forget. He’d been drawn several years younger than the mug shot but the likeness was there. He’d raped her and attempted to murder her. Had it not been for two people who’d happened to walk by, he would have succeeded. Her throat constricted as the contents of her stomach fought for freedom. She instinctively placed her hand over her mouth as she ran for the nearest bathroom.

She barely made it, dropping to her knees as she stuck her head into the porcelain bowl and made hacking sounds with her throat as she convulsively threw up. Amelia squatted down beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she removed the drawing from Kellie’s clenched fist.