Open Wounds (21 page)

Chapter 31

Nick moved into enemy territory, otherwise known as Special Crimes and Internal Affairs
.
Kellie’s blonde head was visible behind the partition that provided the wall to her cubicle. He sauntered over and leaned a hip against the wall as he waited for the woman he considered a friend to acknowledge him.

Her hair was loose and hung over her shoulders in messy tendrils. She’d kicked off her heels and unbuttoned the top button on her blouse. A half empty mug of coffee sat on her desk, and one glance told him it was stone cold. Kellie looked as if she’d stayed all night at the LAC. Her grey suit
—
the same one she’d worn yesterday
—
was rumpled.

She flicked through several folders, her avid attention drawing his notice. He frowned. What had been so important that it couldn’t have waited?

He knew she was determined to put Coleani behind bars and Darryl had told them what transpired in her office. She better not have continued the investigation into Coleani alone. Besides being dangerous, it would piss off Amelia and
—
if he’d read the situation correctly
—
Darryl as well. He was downright protective of Kellie, and so was Nick. Kellie deserved better in life. Better than some scumbag raping her and leaving her to die.

Catching up to Burton would be a race to see which one—Donovan, Hill, or himself—got to him first.

“You’d better not be doing what I think you’re doing,” he warned, his usual jovial tone gone.

Kellie startled and turned towards him, accidentally knocking a couple of file folders off her desk. Police reports and photos spilled onto the carpet. Her eyes widened and she began to scoop them up quickly. Nick bent and collected a few before she could shove them back into the folders.

He glanced down and frowned. Kellie snatched them from his hand.

“Kellie…”

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, turning the situation around on him in a clearly evasive manoeuvre.

“You missed this morning’s session. I came to check on you.”

Her gaze drifted down. “I’m sorry Nick. I got distracted and completely forgot.”

“I noticed. Is this something Hill and Donovan should be aware of?”

“Not yet. I’m still sifting through this.”

“Be careful, Kel.”

She smiled and he got a glimpse of the woman she’d been a week ago before the stress and anxiety had gotten to her. He hadn’t noticed how much she’d changed until just now.

His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts and putting his fear for whatever she was doing on the backburner. He held her gaze as he took the call. When he was done, he clipped his mobile back onto his belt.

“That was Hill. He and Donovan are working a double down on Charles. He wants me down there. Want to ride along? Charles is Coleani’s territory.” He turned and started for the door.

“Sure, who are the victims?” she asked, rushing to join him since he was already halfway to the elevator.

She tripped as her heel caught on the steel grey carpet and took a header toward the floor, reaching out and grasped the first thing she could to stop herself from falling…which happened to be him. She caught hold of his arm, pinching his flesh as she stumbled. He caught her before she fell.

“I’m used to women throwing themselves at me, but this is ridiculous,” he joked. “Slow down, it’s not a race.”

“No, it isn’t, so
you
slow down. I’m not the one with a six-foot stride.”

He grinned and stared down at her. “No, you aren’t. You’re pint-sized. Are you okay?”

Kellie nodded without checking herself over. She bent down and jerked her caught heel away from the carpet, taking a strand of hard wool lodged between the rubber cap of her stiletto and the heel with her before following him into the elevator.

“So…you and Darryl, huh?” he asked, grinning as he rocked back on his heels.

Kellie blushed. “I’m not discussing that with you.”

He ignored the comment. “You two are good for each other.”

“We are?” Kellie asked, seeming surprised by his statement.

“Sure. That and every time you’re in the same room the heat ratchets up several degrees. Is this a temporary thing?”

“What if it is?”

“I don’t think Darryl sees it that way.”

Kellie gnawed on her lower lip. “He told me that when the case is over he’ll be coming for me.”

He wasn’t surprised. He’d seen the discreet glances between the two when they thought no one was looking, and he hadn’t missed the glares he’d received from Hill when he stood too close to Kellie. One thing was sure, Darryl had it bad for her.

He grinned. Two down…

***

The house on Charles was built in the fifties, the blue paint chipped and faded. The weatherboard rotted and in places missing. The red-orange rust dulled the glint of the iron roof in the sunlight. Unfortunately for the residents on Charles, it wasn’t unusual. All the houses lining the cul-de-sac could have used a fresh coat of paint and a good gardener, the grass dry and brittle.

Kellie opened the door to Nick’s dark green Holden Commodore and followed him up the overgrown pebble path leading to the front door. He flashed his holographic ID and introduced them both to the uniformed officer guarding the door, who dutifully wrote their names on the sign-in sheet.

“Detectives Matthews, Hill, and Donovan are already in there,” the officer told them.

Nick donned a pair of booties and handed a pair to Kellie, who followed suit. When they finally entered the house the first thing she noticed was the smell and almost gagged.

“You okay?” Nick asked her when she felt the blood leave her face.

She waved him off, not wanting to appear weak.

He rolled his eyes at her bravery
—
or stupidity
—
and opened a jar of Vicks VapoRub, then dipped his index finger deep in the gel before swiping it under her nose.

“Hey!” she snapped, stepping back.

“There’s no shame in admitting the truth. Many a man has emptied the contents of his stomach on a stench like this. Unfortunately, we pros get used to it.”

Kellie frowned as she followed him through the maze of empty Domino’s pizza boxes, James Boag beer bottles, and what appeared to be a year’s supply of TV Guides, some torn into long strips that when rolled up would bear a striking resemblance to a cigarette or something less legal.

“I wouldn’t think that would be unfortunate, Nick. You should be happy the smell no longer affects you like it does us rookies.”

Nick gave her a sideways glance. “That all depends on how you look at it. Yeah, it’s great I no longer have the need to chuck my guts up but that also means
—
”

“You’ve seen too many. I get it,” she interrupted, understanding.

They stopped as they reached the crime scene. The LAC’s forensic team was already bagging and tagging evidence and taking photos. Dean, Amelia, and Darryl were hovering over the victims, waiting for Doctor Stone to examine the bodies.

Kellie looked about the room and regretted it immediately. Blood pooled beneath the bodies and splattered against the wall. Flies had found their way into the house
—
or had already been there at the time of death
—
and had set up shop within the bodies. A large rat had gnawed on their faces, leaving a bloody skull peeking through the muscles and cartilage. The rat itself had been caught and now sat sulking in a cage off to the side.

“Oh God,” she said and turned away from the bodies to find more blood and an intestine that had spilled out of a victim’s stomach.

“You’re looking at the remains of Jeff Carlton and Brian Mitchell. They worked at the local Shell on alternating shifts and as far as we can tell have kept their noses clean,” Nick said, reading from his notepad as he motioned towards the room as if she had somehow missed the bloody chaos in front of her.

“In this neighbourhood, steering clear of trouble and Coleani himself is something that isn’t done. How old were they?” she asked, keeping her gaze on Nick’s face.

“Mitchell was sixteen, Carlton only fifteen.”

“Son-of-a-bitch,” she muttered.

Darryl brightened, his frown turning into a smile when he found them there. “You made it. Good. We can use all the help we can get on this one. You okay?” he asked, noting what she could only imagine was a green tinge to her skin and a dollop of Vicks under her nose.

“No.”

She had hoped to find Wayne Burton by now, though she wasn’t looking forward to confronting him. But she wanted this all over and done with.

“Yeah, I know it’s pretty grisly.”

She spared a glance at the body of Brian Mitchell as he was lifted into the black durable body bag and watched in horror as more of his internal organs flopped to floor, hollowing out his stomach cavity.

Kellie stumbled for the door, her hand over her mouth. Darryl followed her, placing a comforting hand on her hip as he caught her by the exit. She bent down at the waist until she was looking between her legs at the dry fern plant left to die by the door.

“Just take deep breaths. It’ll pass soon.”

Kellie nodded as she sucked in fresh air. She would never get the sight or smell out of her memory no matter how long she lived.

“Here, drink this,” Darryl added, handing her a bottle of water. She straightened as he removed the cap from the bottle and drank deeply until half the water was gone.

“Easy there. It’s not a bottle of Jack.”

“I wish I had one right about now,” she muttered and laughed as she remembered what she’d thought—God, was it only yesterday? She met Darryl’s inquiring gaze and said, “Is it bad when you’ve wished for a bottle of hard liquor twice in one week? It seems to be becoming a pattern.”

“It’s been a hard week. That usually calls for the hard stuff and lots of it.”

“I wasn’t expecting that,” she admitted, gesturing to the inside of the house. “After Michael Lambert, I thought I could stomach death. At least in the pure form and not just in photos.”

“Yeah, well, bloody gets messy and stinky. The bay washed Lambert clean. It was about as fresh as they get.”

Kellie made a face. “Remind me never to go swimming again.”

“You want to wait in the car?”

She shook her head. “No I’ll be fine, now that I know what to expect.”

“All right then.”

She followed Darryl back inside, this time taking in her surroundings. The victims had been pigs, which she assumed was typical of teenage boys living together without adult supervision.

“Where are their parents?”

“Dead. Mitchell and Carlton were foster kids. They disappeared from the system a few months ago. Decided to make it on their own.”

“It looks like they were doing that. A place of their own, holding down steady jobs. Despite the mess they were more in control of their lives than most adults. How long have they been dead?”

“A couple of days, according to Stone. No more than week. He’s sure.”

She raised her eyebrow as they re-joined the others. Both bodies had been bagged, leaving bodily fluids and excrement on the old cracked linoleum.

“No one noticed they were missing or didn’t show up for work?”

“Apparently not,” Amelia said from across the room as she sifted through some organs with the end of her ball point pen. “Neighbours finally noticed the smell and called it in.”

“I can understand that.”

“What do we have here?” Her head jerked back as she caught sight of her find. She put on a pair of white disposable gloves she’d borrowed from the nearest forensic kit and picked up the object. A bright flash of gold temporarily blinded her as the metal connected with the sun peeping through the rotting curtain.

Amelia poured water from a bottle onto the palm of her hand, washing away the blood. She examined the piece of jewellery and squinted. She paled and turned to Kellie.

“What is it?”

“This is something you need to see,” she told Kellie as she moved towards her, deftly avoiding the dried blood pools on the floor. As she walked she placed the object into a plastic evidence bag, sealing it as she came to a stop before Kellie and Darryl. She could feel Dean and Nick’s complete attention on them and a few members of the forensic team as well.

Kellie took the bag from her and frowned. She didn’t understand her friend’s reaction. “Look inside, Kel.”

She glanced at her, somewhat confused by Amelia’s expression. She noted that Darryl watched with an expectant yet questioning gaze. Amelia shook her head at him sadly, as if to tell him this wouldn’t end well.

Kellie turned the bag over so the outside shell of the locket was rested on her palm. It only took a moment for her to understand. The second she caught sight of the photo she knew exactly what she held in her hand after all these years. She trembled as tears blurred her vision.