Chris Mclean Crimes Novels & Stories

The man nearly screamed and pissed his pants as he convulsed like a caterpillar trying to get away. “Who is that?” “Eric Ross, Dan’s most faithful lawyer. Gerald helped me detain him and he has been extremely helpful in giving me Dan’s movements. He is extremely loyal to him.” Chris smiled evilly, ungagging Ross. “Just let me go. I gave you what you wanted. I have a family…” Chris shook his head. “But yet you were sleeping with my niece?” He grabbed his face hard. “Did you think about them before that?” He released him hard, throwing him down. Damien only backed away.

She explained everything to them, but not once did she break down or shed tears. “We can consult my friend and well-wisher, Chris Fitzgerald, who is a reliable criminal attorney in the city. He has a record of cracking the most troublesome cases and giving justice to many innocent victims, framed for crimes they didn’t commit. I can see that Alexander has been framed badly.” Lucas scrolled through the contact list on his phone for his friend’s number.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Chris could hear his heart hammering in his ears as he sat still, his hands cuffed together. Detective Klein stood across the room, quietly speaking into his walkie, relaxed and unaware of the storm building up inside Chris. Rhodes had stepped out for a bathroom break. That left Chris alone with the detective—and one shot. Klein looked like he could hold his own. Broad shoulders, lean build, dressed in a tailored suit that hinted at a gym habit. But even the strongest man could be taken down if he didn’t see it coming.

With that, she turned and stormed out, leaving Rowan staring after her, worry etched into his features. Chris sat alone in the cold, damp cell, the reality of his situation sinking in with every passing second. His plan had gone exactly as he’d envisioned, up until the moment he heard the sirens approaching. He’d barely managed to make it a few miles down the road before the police caught up with him, boxing him in and forcing him to a stop. Now, as he sat on the hard bench, he felt no remorse, no regret. Only satisfaction. He had finally made Ethan feel the fear, the helplessness that he’d endured for months after the accident. In his mind, justice had been served.

Christopher might be an ass, but he’s still Rooster’s brother. “That depends,” I replied. “It depends on anything else he’s been up to, why he’s doing it, you know the drill.” Rooster nodded, his face resigned. “Christopher has always been… troubled. His interests have always been… less than savoury.” “You mean like abusive p**n and snuff films?” Karma’s anger was front and centre in her voice. Rooster nodded. “Stuart and I never really understood where those interests came from, or where he was first exposed to them. When he was in university, he started taking drugs, eventually ending up addicted. He sold Henchmen secrets to get money to pay for his next fix.”

The information the private investigator gave me a week later made me rush back to the base to ask Chris a couple questions because all this didn't add up,it made no sense. I don't know why I was asked to clean up after Chris because I hated it but since the boss sent me I couldn't say no to it,no one says no to the boss,it was an unspoken law. "Where's Chris?". I asked the first person that I saw. "He's under house arrest, boss's orders" .He said. House arrest? That's actually funny who would place a mafia member under house arrest?

Chloe walks in, the pair of ice orbs looking around every corner, in a fraction of second before the blue eyes fall on the front table Aiden spins around and drags Riley, hiding themselves behind every person who are standing they make their way to the exit successfully. After a talk of thirty minutes, Chloe turns to his left and blinks at Kevin who is standing by the table where the laptop is placed. Kevin plays the video, the presentation made by Chloe. Fancy bulbs switch off when the projector light travels straight to the large wall. The video begins. The room fills with gasps and some of them off their seats with enlarged eyes. Chloe furrows his brows and turns around, his body freezes,

That night, Chris publicly announced his divorce from Adriana on social media, along with a confession of the mistakes he had made. Adriana knew he was trying to prevent others from misunderstanding or defaming her—but she no longer needed it. Chris had always been the same: always a step too slow. Yet when it came to death, he had rushed ahead. That indecisive, muddled personality of his had never changed. A news alert about Joan's sentencing flashed briefly across a webpage. In addition to intentional injury, she had also been charged with major financial crimes.

she said softly, "what happened to us wasn't one mistake. It was years. And I'm not going back." A silence stretched between them. Then, not loud, but with enough pressure to crack something in him, he whispered: "Is it because of him? The detective? Lilian didn’t answer. Chris's eyelids fluttered, hurt. "So it's true." "Chris," she said, "Jack McMacon is a good man. Respectful. Honest. Everything you never let yourself be." Anger flickered momentarily before Chris buried it. “I see,” he whispered, “I see.”

“He is hot, I get it. I've caught Gina staring at him too.” My face writhed in disgust—me and Chris? No way. He's what they called a wizard. I normally referred to him as a male witch. Chris never studied medicine. He used to work at a mechanic shop and lived next door back in Lystvair. We were close friends despite our age gap until five years ago, when he was wanted for murder and he fled without saying goodbye. Just like Benny, he dabbled in potions and casted spells on people. But how did he manage to mask the smell of the witch’s blood that coursed through his veins?