Why Does Inspector Clouseau Wear A Trench Coat?

What happens when two worlds collide? One world is filled with crime, death and destruction and the other filled with the need for justice and to serve and protect? 25 year old Agent Teagan Mulholland is about to be thrown undercover into the world of the mafia. To bring down the infamous Moretti family, a family her department have been trying to take down for 25 years. The man she needs to get close to is none other than 30 year old Don Antonio Moretti, the most dangerous man in the country. Her target, the man she needs to take down to redeem herself. But all is not as simple as one would think. Will the truth be revealed about who she is? Can love conquer all? Will everything that she has hidden come to light? Will her family’s past be uncovered? Will either Antonio or Teagan come out unscathed? Or will the betrayal and deceit destroy everything they have both worked hard for? The answers will all be uncovered.

There are three things Samara Culkin loves: her father, wearing high heels, and being a detective. But in a world where being a female officer is considered weak, she struggles to find a place where she feels truly belong. Determined to prove The Detective Tag firm that she is worth it, she sets out to solve one of the biggest cases the city of Los Angeles has ever seen. There are three things Clayton Jones likes: his car, detective skills, and the female detective who happens to catch his eye—Samara. As an expert and well-known crime officer, he is given the chance to work with her; a one-time possibility that rarely happens. The only problem is that she hates him. And he does not know why. The Detective Tag is a crime fiction with a twist of romance. Join Samara and Clayton—all the bitterness, dislikes, and romance in between—as they dive into the world of crime cases and murder investigations. Well, maybe a bit of finding love, too.

When I head over to my daughter, Hannah Westfield's place for dinner during Christmas Eve, I specifically wear a wool coat for the occasion. Unexpectedly, when Hannah sees me, she pushes me out of the front door instantly. "Mom, why must you buy the same coat as my mother-in-law did? Don't you know that she hates it when others imitate her? Hurry up and take off the coat before she sees you!" Meanwhile, my son-in-law, Thomas Clifford, digs out an old coat and puts it on me. "Mom, there are many relatives visiting our house today. Please spare my mom her pride and don't steal her thunder, okay?" Seeing how sincere Thomas looks, I decide to yield. But as soon as I take my seat, Giselle Johnson chortles in amusement as she stares at the old coat I'm wearing. "Oh Fiona, if you like my clothes, you could've just said so, and I'd give it to you. It's bad if you just steal my old coat from me and wear it, you know? Besides, don't you know that those who imitate always do a bad job at it?" Furious, I'm about to up and leave when Giselle grabs the coat and blocks my way. "I placed two money envelopes in the coat pockets a few days ago. There are 20 thousand dollars in there. Why are they gone after you've worn it? "I don't mind you wearing my coat behind my back, but you must return the money to me right now!"

During the dinner rush, the lobby of Aurelia Heights suddenly exploded into chaos. A woman from one of the penthouse duplexes stormed downstairs and blocked my delivery scooter. “Everyone, come look at how disgusting this delivery guy is!” With that, she threw a half-spilled bowl of lobster bisque at my feet. In her other hand, she held up what she claimed was surveillance footage. The residents walking their dogs and the security guards nearby immediately gathered around. “No wonder my takeout has been smelling weird lately. So these delivery drivers have been spitting in our food to get back at us?” “That’s disgusting. Guys like him can’t stand seeing other people doing better than they are. No wonder he’s stuck delivering food for a living.” “Management really needs to be stricter. People who dress like that could be carrying who knows what. How can you let them into a luxury building like ours?” The penthouse lady grew even more smug. She pointed right at my nose and snapped, “Young man, there’s nothing wrong with being poor. But at least have some dignity.” “How much do you even make per delivery? Five dollars? Is that worth throwing away your conscience over? Is this how your parents taught you to behave?” To curry favor with the residents, the head of security even came at me with a baton, shouting that he was going to drag me to the police station himself. But the thing was, I had never cared about that five-dollar delivery fee in the first place. I was the captain of the city's Major Crimes Unit. The delivery uniform was just a disguise. I was only here to get close to the high-priority fugitive hiding inside this building. The penthouse lady’s husband.

I'm a half-baked forensic examiner whose only redeeming quality is the ability to understand animals. The crime scene is inside a lavish villa. The lady of the house lies dead on the floor with a blunt-force injury to the back of her head so deep that her bone is visible. The safe has been pried open, and a million dollars in cash has vanished without a trace. Clear shoe prints mark the backyard wall, evidence that someone has climbed over it. "This one's clear as day. This is a textbook robbery-homicide. The suspect is likely a young male, around six feet tall, has a prior theft record, and knows how to cover his tracks. Check the surveillance footage in the area and look into places where he might've moved the stolen cash." The director of the forensic science center, Egbert Woodward, has been in the profession for three decades and is a widely respected authority. The officers at the scene nod in unison and begin taking notes. I'm the only one who stares at the 30 flies circling the ceiling for a full 3 minutes before taking a step forward and piping up, "Dr. Woodward, this isn't a robbery-homicide. It's a crime of passion. The murderer is the victim's husband!"

Special Agent Violet (sometimes Secret Agent Violet) is one of the FBI's best agents. She's very good at deducing people and observing things most people missed. She's socially inept with no friends. She's very dedicated and loves her work...so much. The word love is alien to her. Relationships were nothing for her. She just needs work, work, work, and work. Her heart was stone-cold. "Karate chopping the clichés and norms all in a dress." She's a special agent. And she's Violet.