Black Heart (21 page)

wandering the earth. On the other hand, if even one of them had contacted him, he would

have been able to end this a long time ago. Then again, for all he knew they could be stuck

where they’d died, unable to let go.

"Bitch!"

"No, you're the bitch!" the airhead twins argued as his head started to pound. "Ask him.

He’ll tell you!" she said, gesturing to him.

Tristan just barely bit back his groan. They'd been too busy bitch slapping each other to

even notice him and he'd hoped it stayed that way.

"You know if he could see us that he'd totally want me, right?" the brunette said as she

fluffed her blood caked hair back. They stood behind Marty, watching him.

The blonde snorted. "He can see us and he was totally checking out my girls," she said as

she made a show of adjusting her breasts and winked at him, making him cringe.

"Nah ah!" the brunette said.

"Yeah, because when we were arguing over whether my text messaging and fixing my

makeup while I was driving or all those cars going the wrong way on the highway was the

reason we crashed, he muttered that we should win the Darwin Award."

"You mean we're going to win something?" the brunette asked, practically jumping up

and down.

"Totally!"

As the dead women suddenly rushed him, he promised all kinds of revenge on Shayne,

starting with cancelling the porn channel.

Chapter
16

"I'm going home," she announced as she stood up and collected her things.

"Don't care," Tristan said and she just barely stopped herself from throwing her stapler at

his head.

All day she'd been forced to put up with his surly attitude. Now she was more than ready

to call it a night. If she’d thought he'd been an asshole before, she'd been dead wrong.

Today he'd redefined the term asshole. Today she couldn't wait to get the hell away from

him. Today.....

Today he broke her heart.

All day she’d waited and hoped to see a glimmer of the Tristan that she loved, but he

never showed up. Instead, she had to deal with this jerk that either ignored her or snapped

at her. Several times she was forced to leave the office and hide out in the bathroom to calm

down before she did something completely stupid like cry.

She loved him so much and she hated him for it. She didn’t want to feel this way

about him, never had, but she couldn’t help it. Being in love with Tristan felt natural, right

and the other day when she’d been in his arms she’d felt whole for the first time in her life.

She wanted to be with him, needed to be with him, but that was never going to happen.

At least one thing was clear.

She couldn't keep doing this. As much as she wanted to work in this department,

and with her father before he retired, she just couldn't. She couldn't come in day after day

and pretend that seeing him and being near him wasn't killing her. She just couldn't keep

doing this and, as soon as she had her degree, she would start sending out her resume and

hopefully she'd find something far away so that she could move on with her life and forget

about him.

Who the hell was she trying to kid? She'd never be able to forget about Tristan Black. At

least she'd be able to put some space between them and give her broken heart a chance to

mend and finally move on.

She’d just reached the door when someone knocked. Ignoring Tristan's muttered, yet

colorful, curse, she opened the door to find Rosemary standing in the doorway wearing

what could only be described as a complacent smile on her face.

"Detective Black, Hank would like a word with you," she said, making everything in

Marty go still.

Oh no........

Somehow between work and Tristan's attitude she'd forgotten all about her father and the

likelihood that he would find out about everything that had transpired over the weekend.

Well, not everything, but he sure as hell would find out about Tristan being shoved out of

his house, aroused and naked as well as Tristan's little announcement at the bar.

This was bad, very bad. She needed to speak with her father first and calm him down

before he spoke to Tristan. Hell, she hadn't been this nervous since she’d crashed her

father's truck back in high school. If she was this anxious, she couldn't imagine how nervous

Tristan must be. It was his ass on the line after all. Maybe she should talk to him before she

spoke to her father, to reassure him that everything was going to be okay. Her father was an

intimidating man after all, and had scared off more guys than she could count. She needed

to handle this before things got out of hand and-

"Tell him that I'll be right there," Tristan said, standing up and grabbing a file before

heading to the door, looking calm and relaxed.

"Your father would like to speak with you as well," Rosemary added before she walked

away.

Marty stepped in front of the door, blocking it. "Maybe you should let me talk to my

father first."

"It's not necessary," Tristan said, gesturing for her to go.

"Not necessary?" she repeated, dumbfounded. "It's very necessary. The man is going to

be pissed."

Tristan merely shrugged as he somehow managed to get her out of the office. He stepped

past her and headed towards her father's office. She followed after him, feeling the eyes of

everyone in the pit watching her. She really wasn't looking forward to this. In fact, she’d

planned on speaking with her father about everything over lunch at his favorite pizza shop.

She would have explained everything and, if that failed, she would have begged her father

to stay out of it and let her handle things. Unfortunately for Tristan, she'd worked through

lunch and obviously missed a golden opportunity, because her father was about to kill him.

"Have a seat," her father said tightly when they walked into his office.

With a sense of doom, she did just that. This was so wrong. She was in her twenties and

she should be beyond this, but apparently she was a wimp.

"I need to speak with you, Hank," Tristan said, getting to the point. On behalf of the

butterflies in her stomach she could have kissed the man, but she quickly reminded herself

that was what got them into this situation in the first place.

"What do you have?" Hank asked, sighing heavily as he held out his hand for the file in

Tristan's hand.

"It might not be anything," Tristan said, handing over the file before taking the seat next

to hers.

"But you don't think so," Hank said, opening the file.

"No, I think all the cases are connected," Tristan said, leaning back in his chair and

looking relaxed while she sat there trying not to fidget. "If you'll look over my notes, you'll

see that all fifty-eight of the women I've selected for this were last seen near restaurant

supply stores or high class restaurants."

"How far back does this go?" Hank asked, dropping his gaze to the folder.

"Twenty-two years."

"No bodies?" Hank asked as he continued to look over Tristan's notes.

"No, and not one of them has been seen since. No calls, letters, or sightings."

"Have you contacted the detectives on these cases?"

"Yes."

"And?"

Tristan ran a hand through his neatly combed hair, sighing heavily. "They have no new

leads and they don't have the manpower to look into this."

"Neither do we," Hank said with real regret in his tone. "We're backed up as it is,

Tristan."

"My main focus is on my cases, Hank, but I really think this deserves some attention as

well."

Hank nodded as he closed the file and handed it back to Tristan. "Just make sure that

you don't fall behind. Let me know if you find anything that we can use."

Tristan took the file back, not looking all that surprised, she noticed. "What did you need

to talk to us about, Hank?" Tristan asked casually with absolutely no fear as he met her

father's gaze head on.

"You're not meeting the requirements of our agreement," her father said, surprising her.

She couldn't help but sag a little in relief that she wasn't about to get chewed out in front of

Tristan. It also meant that she could still speak to her father about everything. She didn't

want him hearing about what happened from someone else. She wasn't a child and had no

plans of trying to hide what happened from her father or lying about it. It was just a little

awkward talking to her father about what happened. She doubted many people eagerly

spoke to their parents about their sexual escapades.

"I've been cleared medically," Tristan pointed out.

"Yes," Hank said, sighing as he picked up a clipboard and looked it over. "You do realize

that I'm not buying this bullshit sign off, right?" he asked, looking up to meet Tristan's eyes

and she could have sworn her father looked amused.

"They signed off, Hank. That's all that's required for me to return back to work," Tristan

pointed out, still holding her father's gaze.

"Uh huh, care to tell me how they went from suggesting extending light duty as well as

physical therapy and hinting at the need for a second surgery one day and the next signing

you off and repeatedly stating in your file that you didn't need to go back there ever again?"

"The miracle of modern science," Tristan said with a straight face as she struggled not to

smile.

"Then explain why they stated several times that if you have any further problems that

you should be seen, but by someone else? In fact, they went as far as to attach the contact

information for fifty other doctors. Now why do you think they did that?" Hank asked as he

leaned back in his chair, studying Tristan.

The corner of Tristan's lips twitched, but he said nothing. Finally her father sighed

heavily as he ran his hands down his face. "You may have gotten out of the medical

requirements, but you still need to complete your therapy sessions before I can release you

from medical," Hank pointed out.

Tristan's lips pressed into a firm line at that announcement. "I did the required therapy,"

he said evenly.

Hank shrugged. "You have more."

"You can't do that," Tristan said, sounding pissed.

"Yes, I can," her father said without any hesitation. "You will complete the group therapy

sessions before you’ll be allowed to resume the rest of your duties," her father said and she

just barely stopped herself from pointing out that he already had when her father's gaze

shifted to her. "And you will start doing the job you were hired for or I'm going to have to

let you go until you get your degree."

"W-what?" she asked, a little more than stunned. "I have been doing my job."

"No, you haven't. You were hired to type, but he's been doing his own typing," Hank

said, gesturing lazily to Tristan. "You were also hired to drive him, but again, he's been

doing that. If you can't do your job, Marty, then I'm afraid that I'm going to have to let you

go."

She’d just bought a new car. Well, new to her, to anyone else it was an overpriced piece

of crap, but it got her from point A to point B and back so she was happy. If he fired her,

she wouldn't have money to pay for her insurance, gas, her phone, or anything for that

matter. She'd have to dip into her savings and she didn't want to do that since it meant that

she'd have to put off getting her independence for a while longer.

If she lost this job she'd have to take another dead-end minimum wage job and she could

not afford to do that. She needed this job. If she lost it maybe she could-

"She is doing her job," Tristan said, shocking the ever-living hell out of her. She'd

expected him to agree with Hank that she wasn't doing her job so that he could finally get

rid of her. "She's created a more efficient database, making it easier to put in information

and cutting down half the time needed for paperwork. She's very efficient and works fast,

Hank. I think it would be a waste of her talents if you didn't put her in the secretary pool so

that she could help the rest of the department," he said casually while she sat there

simmering.

That sneaky son of a bi-

"She already has a job," Hank said with a long-suffering sigh. "She's supposed to be your

assistant right now."

Tristan shrugged. "I don't need an assistant."

"That's too bad, because you've got one," Hank said firmly as he leveled a hard look on

both of them. "I don't know what's going on here and I don't care. I need you released from

medical-"

"I would be if you didn't impose this bullshit on me," Tristan said, cutting her father off.

"I did what was required by the Department and I should be back at full status and we both

know it. Making me go to group therapy is asinine, Hank. I don't need it or have a

problem."

"You don't think so?" her father mused, looking amused for some godforsaken reason.