Detective Holbrook Novels & Stories

And ever since the day his father mentioned something about sleeping with her, he just saw her in a different light. ***** Matteo had a serious look on, different from the funny, goofy face he had on a few minutes ago. Placing both his elbows on the table "So I tailed Van Horne as you requested" he paused with a far away look in his eyes "at first I didn't see anything suspicious, in fact I was beginning to think it was a dead end, not until yesterday when I caught on to something" he finished and Spade just sighed out watching him with keen interest, his heart leaped a bit at what Matteo just said, so he was right after all, there was something fishy going on between Greg and Van Horne

She has worked so hard her whole life to support me and my career. "Miss Holmes, I want to let you know about your injuries, but before we begin this gentleman behind me has some things to go over with you." Dr. Matthews says. I sit on the chair next to my mother intending to stay in this same spot until someone forces me to leave. I hold my mother's hand and prepare for the worst. I have an idea what this detective is about to say. "Miss Holmes, I'm detective Anderson. I am the one in charge of the investigation regarding your café. He walks closer to the bed my mother is resting on, and I can see the hard lines across his forehead become more visible. This man does not have good news.

"But first..." She closed the journal again. "...there are a few things you need to know." Richard quietly nodded. "I suppose the truth was going to find us eventually." Callum looked between his father and the detective. "Can someone please stop speaking in riddles?" The detective took a slow breath. "Twenty-three years ago, a theft was reported at Brinkley Estate." "We know," Callum replied. "The Hawthorne necklace." "Yes." "But according to the original police report..." She opened another folder.

The question hung in the air. "I... I don't know," I said slowly. "But considering everything that's happened, the timing of it all..." "You recently divorced Dashiell Hart," Detective Park said, consulting her notes. "And he's currently involved with a woman named Sabrina Blake?" "Yes." The detectives exchanged a look.

he said. "Okay." He threw the wrappers away. My phone went off on the table. Unknown number. Different configuration from all the others. I picked up without thinking. A woman's voice. Crisp. Official. "Ms. Reyes. This is Detective Inspector Holt from the financial crimes unit." A pause. "We've been going through the documentation filed yesterday. We have some questions." Another pause. "And we have a development we think you should know about before it goes public." "What development," I said.

Across the city, in a private room of Manhattan General Hospital Daniel Brook was awake. Weak and disoriented But awake. The detective sitting beside his bed leaned forward. "Mr. Brook. Can you tell us who attacked you?" Daniel's cracked lips moved slowly. He blinked against the harsh light. His mind was assembling itself piece by broken piece. The footage. The timestamp. The manipulation. Someone had been in his apartment. Someone who knew what he had found. Someone who needed him silent. He turned his head carefully toward the detective. "The CCTV footage," he whispered. His voice was barely there.

“What do we do?” I asked, surprisingly not as freaked out as I thought I would be. It was as if some part of me knew from last Friday night at the football game that I was the one he wanted to begin with. The diner was locked, Sheila was on her way to the hospital and I was huddled in a booth surrounded by Owen, Barb and John with Detective Clements and Chief Harding sitting in chairs they had grabbed and pulled up beside the booth. “Honestly, I don’t know.” Chief Harding answered as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Wood Haven hasn’t had a murder in years let alone a serial killer. This is beyond my scope of expertise. Clements, do you have any suggestions?”

He dried her off, dressed her in one of his bathrobes, tucked her into bed, and adjusted the temperature until she curled up and drifted into a deep sleep. Then he left the room and made a call. A short while later, there was a knock at the mansion's door, and Detective Hollis appeared. "Tell me you've got something," Scott demanded impatiently. "I do, actually," the detective replied. "I wanted to tell you in person. We couldn't find any fingerprints on the letters or the photo. Whoever did this is very smart and left no trace." "Then what did you find? I don't get it," Scott hissed.

Holly lied. "What about the woman?" "What woman?" Holly asked, her heart sinking. Eric had sung like a canary, it seemed. "The woman who attacked you." "I don't remember that." "But the footage from your bodyguard's dash cam clearly shows a woman attacker," said Detective Moss. His patience had run out as he pressed his lips together in a tight line, frowning at Holly. "I'm sorry. Can we do this tomorrow, please? It's been a long day. I'll stop by the station tomorrow, and you can ask me all your questions."

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting; I'm Detective Stone from the Missing Persons department down at Sea Point Police Station. You must be Marybeth's husband." "Indeed, I am!" he said, shaking her hand firmly. "Austin Hawthorne." "So, is Jane Doe Carol Scheepers?" Marybeth asked again, unable to take the suspense any longer. The detective slowly shook her head, and Marybeth almost burst into tears, a rush of relief threatening to knock her right off her feet. "Thank you, Jesus!" she exclaimed, amazed at herself. For a self-proclaimed atheist, she'd been calling the Lord's name too often lately, and not wholly in vain.