Open Wounds (Harbour Bay #2)(71)
“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 f*cking 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.