turns to leave, he flashes me a mischievous grin. “Ash said Cassidy will be there. She’s been wanting to get back on your cold dick since you porked her at my thirtieth birthday party last month.”
“Blow me, Detective,” I grunt, grabbing my dick. “Don’t you have better shit to do than worry about my sex life?”
He chuckles and saunters down the hallway leading away from my office and calls over his shoulder, “Just think about it. Blow-jobs, lil’ smokies, and a lot of beer. What better way to spend a Saturday night?”
When he’s gone, the smile falls from my lips and I flip the file closed I’d been working on. I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. Just like always, my mind flits to her.
The bitch.
The one responsible for my sister.
Gut-churning hatred filled my insides.
With a huff, I open my eyes and start slamming files into my drawers. My shift ended a half hour ago and I’m tired as hell. I just want to go home, do a little research, and pass the fuck out.
Once my desk is cleared, I pull my drawer key from my pocket and open it. Inside is one single file. A file that I’ve obsessed over ever since I joined the Aspen Police Department five years ago. At the time, I thought it held answers to the questions that plagued me. I assumed I’d unravel the mysteries nobody else had been able to.
Instead, I found her statement.
I found her pictures.
I found her high-dollar lawyer’s business card and her stepfather’s information. Fucking Donovan Jayne of all people.
But nowhere did I find any clues about the prick who took Kasey. The stupid bitch simply watched while some sick fuck stole my sister and did nothing. Absolutely nothing. She watched as he— the man who was dressed all in black wearing a mask —shoved Kasey into his black SUV— no make or model —and drove away.
“I don’t remember.”
“I don’t know.”
Those two phrases were used more times than I could count in her report. But that’s a lie because I did count. In fact, I highlighted every single time she didn’t remember . All twenty-six times. And all eighteen times she didn’t know .
The rich bitch went on to have a fucking fabulous life.
Meanwhile, my little sister was probably dismembered and at the bottom of some fucking lake right now.
With a roar, I slam my fist on my desk, causing my cold cup of coffee to slosh and splatter onto the file. I flip to the back and run my fingers over the last date recorded. The last time I had eyes on the dumb bitch. She’d gone to college for a few years in LA. Then, she’d come back to Colorado to work at the Aspen Pines Lodge at the top of the mountain with Donovan. I thought it would be my chance. That I could finally seize the opportunity to make her life a living hell. I’d even put plans in motion to make that happen.
But then she fucking vanished.
For three goddamned years.
And I’ve been trying to locate her ever since.
My phone buzzes and I see a text from my mother which causes the stale coffee in my stomach to sour.
Mom: I miss you. Come see us at The Joint.
Rolling my eyes, I ignore her text and shove the file back into my desk. Once it’s locked up, I shoot her a reply.
Me: Maybe. Is asshole there?
I stand from my desk and stretch before swiping my keys from the corner. I’m not in the mood to see Dale today but I know Mom will just harass the fuck out of me until I come visit, so I decide to drop by for a few minutes to get it out of the way, on my way home from work. Before I leave my office, I do a cursory sweep to make sure nothing is out of place. Rhodes makes fun of me, says I’m a sociopath or some shit, but I pay him no attention. It’s that observant nature that makes me a good detective and what got me promoted to lieutenant at the early age of twenty-nine last year. My attention to detail is a trait of mine that has served me well in this life. I’d like to teach that bitch a lesson or two about paying fucking attention to
“Blow me, Detective,” I grunt, grabbing my dick. “Don’t you have better shit to do than worry about my sex life?”
He chuckles and saunters down the hallway leading away from my office and calls over his shoulder, “Just think about it. Blow-jobs, lil’ smokies, and a lot of beer. What better way to spend a Saturday night?”
When he’s gone, the smile falls from my lips and I flip the file closed I’d been working on. I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. Just like always, my mind flits to her.
The bitch.
The one responsible for my sister.
Gut-churning hatred filled my insides.
With a huff, I open my eyes and start slamming files into my drawers. My shift ended a half hour ago and I’m tired as hell. I just want to go home, do a little research, and pass the fuck out.
Once my desk is cleared, I pull my drawer key from my pocket and open it. Inside is one single file. A file that I’ve obsessed over ever since I joined the Aspen Police Department five years ago. At the time, I thought it held answers to the questions that plagued me. I assumed I’d unravel the mysteries nobody else had been able to.
Instead, I found her statement.
I found her pictures.
I found her high-dollar lawyer’s business card and her stepfather’s information. Fucking Donovan Jayne of all people.
But nowhere did I find any clues about the prick who took Kasey. The stupid bitch simply watched while some sick fuck stole my sister and did nothing. Absolutely nothing. She watched as he— the man who was dressed all in black wearing a mask —shoved Kasey into his black SUV— no make or model —and drove away.
“I don’t remember.”
“I don’t know.”
Those two phrases were used more times than I could count in her report. But that’s a lie because I did count. In fact, I highlighted every single time she didn’t remember . All twenty-six times. And all eighteen times she didn’t know .
The rich bitch went on to have a fucking fabulous life.
Meanwhile, my little sister was probably dismembered and at the bottom of some fucking lake right now.
With a roar, I slam my fist on my desk, causing my cold cup of coffee to slosh and splatter onto the file. I flip to the back and run my fingers over the last date recorded. The last time I had eyes on the dumb bitch. She’d gone to college for a few years in LA. Then, she’d come back to Colorado to work at the Aspen Pines Lodge at the top of the mountain with Donovan. I thought it would be my chance. That I could finally seize the opportunity to make her life a living hell. I’d even put plans in motion to make that happen.
But then she fucking vanished.
For three goddamned years.
And I’ve been trying to locate her ever since.
My phone buzzes and I see a text from my mother which causes the stale coffee in my stomach to sour.
Mom: I miss you. Come see us at The Joint.
Rolling my eyes, I ignore her text and shove the file back into my desk. Once it’s locked up, I shoot her a reply.
Me: Maybe. Is asshole there?
I stand from my desk and stretch before swiping my keys from the corner. I’m not in the mood to see Dale today but I know Mom will just harass the fuck out of me until I come visit, so I decide to drop by for a few minutes to get it out of the way, on my way home from work. Before I leave my office, I do a cursory sweep to make sure nothing is out of place. Rhodes makes fun of me, says I’m a sociopath or some shit, but I pay him no attention. It’s that observant nature that makes me a good detective and what got me promoted to lieutenant at the early age of twenty-nine last year. My attention to detail is a trait of mine that has served me well in this life. I’d like to teach that bitch a lesson or two about paying fucking attention to
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