Fatal Mistake Read online

  A loud knock on the door startled her, instantly quashing her fatigue. The flat was rented by the Undercover Branch and there were only three people who knew of its existence: UC Commander Ron Barrington, her UC Supervisor Rachel Dean and Rex; who, for security reasons and Lexie’s piece of mind, were under strict instructions to ring first if they had reason to see her. And no one had called . . .

  Lexie froze, desperately contemplating a means of escape. Of course, there wasn’t one. She was on the third floor. All the windows were barred and there was no back door.

  Making a split-second decision, Lexie ignored her pounding heart and rose silently from the chair. She crossed to the kitchen, where she used the light from her mobile phone to unlock the safe hidden inside a cupboard, where her gun was secured. As slowly and noiselessly as her shaking hands would allow, she racked the slide. It made a soft clicking sound as a bullet lodged in the chamber. She pointed the firearm towards the ground, ready to be raised in an instant.

  She didn’t want to use her gun again, but she would if she had to.

  Lexie crept back into the living room and took up position against the wall, beside the door.

  Another loud bang rattled the door. Her stomach flew into her throat. The door knob moved. She watched in stunned horror as it jiggled back and forth, then stilled. Lexie held her breath, hoping whoever it was would give up, go away, realise no one was home, or they had the wrong place.

  Scarcely daring to breathe, she flattened herself against the wall, felt the cool plaster through the thin material of her robe and listened intently. For a long moment she heard nothing but the distant sound of traffic, a dog barking somewhere outside, her own raspy breathing. Then the sound of a key in the lock pricked her ears. Her eyes fixed on the doorknob, waiting. It turned.

  Lexie raised her gun.

  CHAPTER 5

  Berni was not sick. Not even a little bit. In fact, she was absolutely fine and about to feel a whole lot better indeed.

  Stretched across her white leather lounge, an arrangement of pillows propping her up, Berni watched her boyfriend, TJ, sprinkle two thick lines of cocaine on the glass coffee table.

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ TJ said.

  ‘I was nearly killed today,’ Berni replied, without any real emotion.

  ‘But you weren’t,’ TJ said flatly. ‘That’s why we’re celebrating.’

  Berni remembered the smoke, the explosion. Terrifying at the time, but she was far from traumatised now. She’d survived, and that was that. And so had Brad Sommers, who had her to thank for their miraculous escape.

  ‘I had a feeling something was going to happen.’ The version of events Berni concocted in her mind was so much more impressive than what had actually happened. ‘Luckily I talked my big oaf of a partner into moving from our position. If we’d stayed put, we would have been history, for sure.’

  ‘How did you know a bomb was going to go off?’ TJ asked, raising one eyebrow at her. ‘Did you have some insider knowledge or something?’

  Berni frowned, shaken by his words. ‘No, how would I? I had a feeling, that was all.’

  ‘Well, I hope your partner appreciates you saving his life,’ said TJ. ‘You are amazing. He’s lucky to work with you.’

  Berni was certain Sergeant Sommers did not consider himself fortunate to be partnered with her at all. No matter what she did, there was no competing with his darling Lexie Rogers, so why even try. Besides, she wasn’t out to impress anyone.

  ‘Do you believe they expected me to stay at work?’ She shook her head as she slipped from the lounge to the carpeted floor. ‘Just carry on as though nothing had happened? It’s ridiculous.’ Berni would never understand why some cops, especially the stiffs at Bondi Junction, took the job way too seriously and felt the need to portray this outdated ethical code of devotion and professionalism. It was a load of bullshit, nothing more than a pissing competition to see who was the biggest, toughest, most resilient big city detective.

  ‘That’s just dumb,’ TJ said, chopping at imaginary lumps in the powder with a razor. ‘Just dumb.’

  She felt a surge of angry defiance and had to remind herself she didn’t care what her colleagues thought of her. Her father was an assistant commissioner – she didn’t have to prove herself to anyone. He might disapprove of his daughter’s choice to work in a ‘man’s’ job, nevertheless, she was guaranteed his protection, no matter what she did.

  Initially, Berni had joined the police force to infuriate her father. But she was quick to realise that while certain aspects of the job were unpleasant, others tedious, she did love the power the badge gave her and saw how easily it could be abused. That was when it had dawned on her that her insider knowledge was invaluable, a precious commodity in certain circles.

  Berni noticed TJ’s eyes were on her chest. The robe she wore was gaping and he couldn’t help himself. Without bothering to cover up, she pushed herself onto her knees and took the straw TJ handed her. Leaning over the coffee table, she placed the straw at the end of one line of powder. She snorted half the cocaine before repeating the process with the other nostril. She leant back, wiped the end of her nose and tasted the acrid tang as it ran down the back of her throat.

  ‘I still can’t believe you were at the bombing today,’ TJ said almost enviously. ‘I know it would have been scary, but it must have been mad to see the explosion, the commotion . . .’

  When TJ had arrived at her place earlier, Berni had been dying to share today’s ordeal with him. Stupidly, she’d expected some sympathy, maybe even admiration for her bravery. But it seemed TJ was more excited by what she’d experienced and had wanted to talk about the bomb, the logistics of its creation and how it may have been planted. Having been in the army for about five minutes apparently made him an authority on all explosive devices.

  ‘Mad?’ She now sat cross-legged on the floor opposite him, her back leaning against the base of the lounge. Plucking the champagne from the ice bucket beside her, Berni filled their glasses. ‘You make it sound exciting. I could have been killed,’ she said, the cocaine buzz managing to keep her calm.

  ‘You are too good a cop to get yourself killed.’

  TJ had no idea what type of cop she was. He had delusions of grandeur sometimes, thought he knew everything, but she knew most of the things that came out of his mouth were a load of bullshit. He talked big, but he was just a barman at Club Hellfire. Which was where they had met on a drunken night out. He sold drugs at bottom level; having big dreams was an admirable trait, but that didn’t make them a reality.

  Bernie watched TJ mimic her actions. Snorting the coke with the straw, he then swept up the scattered fragments of the drug with his finger and rubbed them across his gums.

  ‘I had my fair share of close calls when I was in the army.’ TJ waggled his eyebrows for effect. ‘There is more to me than just a pretty face, you know.’

  Berni rolled her eyes. TJ was infatuated with the idea of dating a cop, but at the same time, it intimidated him. That’s why he made up outlandish stories about things that supposedly happened to him in the army – he felt the need to prove himself to her. Having done some investigative homework of her own, Berni knew TJ had been kicked out of the army after only six months for stealing and drug possession, in which time he had not seen action of any kind. But still, she listened to his tales and pretended to be enthralled. It was all part of the game.

  ‘I spoke to Rocco today,’ TJ told her. ‘He has some really good gear coming in; top grade cocaine. He’s going to get me to cut it for him this time. I’m earning his trust, don’t you think?’

  ‘That’s great,’ Berni replied, careful to show no emotion at the mention of TJ’s boss.

  ‘You’ll meet him soon,’ TJ told her. ‘But he can’t know you’re a cop. Not yet anyway. You understand, don’t you, baby? We don’t want to make Rocco – or worse, Lucky – nervous for no reason.’ TJ was crawling around the coffee table towards her. ‘I want them to know you first, tr
ust you, before we let that cat out of the bag. By then, they’ll see how useful you can be.’

  Berni nodded. She did not disagree but she was growing impatient, waiting for an introduction to Rocco. When the time was right, he would see the benefits of having her around.

  ‘Now, how about we stop talking?’ It was payback time. TJ wanted sex. Cocaine made him horny. Actually, everything made him horny. In this relationship, TJ provided the drugs and she provided the sex.

  He was now on his knees in front of her. Unzipping the fly of his jeans, he pulled out his very impressive erection. Yes, he had that going for him. Though, at twenty-two, he was yet to master how to use it to satisfy anyone other than himself.

  ‘I know you want some of this.’ He stroked the length of himself with one hand and reached for her breasts with the other.

  Berni pushed herself up and let her robe fall to the ground. TJ gaped as, walking naked across the small living room in her Botany flat – a present from Daddy – she flicked a switch on the wall and dimmed the lights. Her body was not one of a supermodel but she was fit and toned from hours in the gym and TJ certainly had no complaints.

  ‘You are gorgeous. Have I told you that today?’ TJ’s voice was husky with desire, his eyes followed her every move.

  Berni smiled. He’d tell her anything if he thought he would get lucky. Taking her hand, he pulled her down onto the carpet. Swiftly removing his own clothes, he claimed her lips, kissing her with a pent-up passion he could hardly contain.

  Sex with TJ was more pleasant than erotic. She didn’t think he had much experience with women. Strange, because he was a decent-looking guy. He was around six foot, lean but muscular. He had lovely blond hair, fetching blue eyes and good features. Besides that, he was gentle, caring. The first time Berni and TJ had sex after a line of cocaine she’d hoped the drugs in his system might slow their love making down somewhat, give her a chance to actually enjoy herself. That hadn’t happened. But having been treated like nothing more than a blow-up doll with a heartbeat on too many occasions, Berni was content to replace lust and a good orgasm for a bit of tender loving care. For now, anyway.

  Nudging her legs apart, TJ entered her quickly. Letting out a throaty groan, he began to move. ‘Oh, Berni . . .’

  Gently running her nails down his back, Berni kissed the side of his neck. TJ’s ragged breathing echoed in her ear. He started to thrust harder. Berni let out a series of obligatory moans and thought of Rocco, which brought the first stirrings of arousal.

  ‘Oh baby, oh baby.’

  He was pumping away feverishly now, and Berni knew it wouldn’t be long. A heartbeat later, TJ let out a strangled cry, shuddered, then collapsed on top of her. It was over in a few minutes. And, although she’d come to expect nothing less, it was still disappointing.

  They had been together for two months. Their story was not one of great love. It never would be. TJ was a nice enough guy: harmless, uncomplicated, clueless. Berni imagined he’d always be this way. And that was fine, because TJ was not her future. He was a stepping stone. Her link to power, money and the person who could give her all that – Rocco.

  CHAPTER 6

  Lexie’s heart was hammering so hard she feared it might explode clear out of her chest. She watched a large figure move into the room and walk straight past her. Grateful she had the element of surprise on her side, Lexie kept her gun aimed at the shadow, which paused in the middle of the living room, before turning towards her.

  She flicked the light switch and the room lit up. Lexie swiftly dropped her arm, pointing the gun at the ground.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ she shrieked. Her voice was high, angry. ‘I could have shot you.’

  Rex Donaldson’s expression displayed the closest thing to fear she had ever seen on his face. ‘Fuck . . . You scared the hell out of me.’

  Lexie shook her head, infuriated. ‘You haven’t done my life expectancy any favours either, you know. Can I point out that you are the one letting yourself into my flat? How do you even have a key?’

  Rex took a swig from a bottle of beer he held in one hand, suddenly casual. ‘Who do you think used this place before you did?’

  ‘You’re supposed to ring, give me a heads-up, not just show up.’ She stomped into the kitchen and put her gun away. ‘I could have bloody shot you! What do you think was going through my head? No one is supposed to know I’m here.’ She was back in the living room, still furious. The fact Rex didn’t even seem to be listening incensed her further. ‘What could be so important you needed to see me now? Why didn’t you just ring?’

  ‘If you shut up and stop ranting like a crazy woman for a second, I’ll tell you.’ Rex was standing with his back to her, staring out through the glass doors into the night. Just as she had been doing before his unexpected arrival. He turned to face her. ‘I’ve been ringing your phone for the past half-hour. It was constantly busy and then went to voicemail and since this is urgent I had no other choice but to just show up.’

  ‘I was talking to Brad. He was at the bombing today.’ Noting the look on Rex’s face, she assured him Brad was okay. ‘Then my phone went flat.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just . . . when I knocked and got no answer, I thought you might be asleep. I thought I might have to wake you up.’ He shook his head, despondent. ‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘I’m a bit edgy. I don’t know what I’m thinking right now . . .’

  Lexie felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as she moved towards Rex. His eyes were darting all over the place, making his agitation contagious. He was always so confident, nothing seemed to worry him. Seeing him so concerned was unnerving.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘Sit down and talk to me.’

  Rex fell into the nearest chair as if he was unable to stand a moment longer. ‘There’s been a change of plans,’ he announced, meeting her eyes for the first time. ‘I considered lying, making up a story for your own protection, but I have too much respect for you to do that.’ He paused, raised the bottle of beer to his mouth and took a long gulp as though gathering courage. ‘Do you trust me?’

  Lexie nodded. ‘With my life,’ she whispered. As she should. He had once saved it.

  ‘I’m trusting you with mine by telling you this. I’ve just received word from a reliable source that a contract for one hundred thousand dollars has been taken out on my life.’

  Lexie gasped, collapsing onto the lounge opposite him. ‘What? Has this got anything to do with the Assassins’ clubhouse bombing? Has your cover been blown?’ Only a handful of New South Wales cops knew Rex was a federal UC. If there was a rat, they could surely be sniffed out.

  ‘My cover’s not blown. I know that much. And I know it has nothing to do with this present job or the bombing. This is personal, apparently. So you’re safe and the operation can continue – without me.’

  ‘Do you have any idea who might be behind this contract?’

  ‘It could be anyone – I’ve hung with some pretty dark dudes and pissed some off along the way. No call for undercover police to keep company with decent, law-abiding citizens, is there? When I was with the Devil’s Guardians there were issues with other gangs. That’s the nature of the job I chose.’ He was thoughtful for a moment. ‘If Max Croft wasn’t already dead, he’d be my number one suspect.’

  Croft had been sergeant-at-arms of the Assassins at the time Rex had held the same position with the Devil’s Guardians. Illness had forced Croft to stand down, but not before it was discovered he was the man who’d run off with Debbie, Rex’s wife, and their young daughter many years earlier. Even though he had taken everything that mattered from Rex, Croft had harboured an irrational hatred towards his rival.

  ‘I hadn’t heard Croft died,’ Lexie said.

  ‘Good riddance, I say.’ Rex was thoughtful for a moment. ‘So, as you can understand, I have to do all I can to protect my family.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Lexie felt a moment of fear for Rex and his f
amily. Right now, the dangers of undercover work were never more apparent. ‘Where’s your family?’

  ‘They’re safe. I took them to a hotel.’

  ‘That’s good, that’s good.’ Lexie put her hand to her forehead. She’d heard about contracted hits and the like, but she’d never imagined knowing someone in this position. ‘I’m struggling to get my head around all this. It’s just so . . . underworld. I can’t believe this stuff actually happens.’

  ‘Believe me, this shit happens all the time,’ Rex said. ‘It just doesn’t hit the news and if it does, all the general public hear is that a bikie, a local criminal identity, a drug dealer, gang member—’ he threw his hands out in front of him, ‘—whoever, has been found dead in a park, floating in a river, shot in the driveway of their home, and foul play is suspected.’ Rex gave a strangled sort of laugh. ‘They’re all planned hits.’ He finished the remnants of his beer and placed the bottle on the coffee table in front of him. ‘I’m pissed that my life is only worth a hundred grand. They must think I’m an easy target.’

  ‘So, what are you going to do? Where will you go?’

  ‘I don’t know yet and I wouldn’t tell you even if I did. The less you know, the better.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I’ve spoken to Ron. Besides you, he’s the only one who knows what’s going on. He offered to place me and the family under protection, but I know how that works. Money can buy information. If someone wants me dead . . .’

  ‘Oh my god, Rex. This is crazy.’ Ron Barrington was Rex’s friend and the commander of the Undercover Branch. At present her boss. ‘There is no way Ron would let anything happen to you. But I understand you can’t take chances.’

  Leaning sideways, Rex pulled a small notebook from his back pocket. ‘You’re going to need this. I’ve written down all my drug purchases and all essential information regarding the job.’

  He handed the notebook to Lexie, who shook her head, distressed. Her mouth became dry as she considered the implications.