Detective Holbrook Novels & Stories

He moved not an inch closer to her . He did not know what she was scheming after disappearing for three days without any information . A knock interrupted their conversation ,then Hailey's after . “ The Detective is around .” Mr Brookes straightened up and reached for the knob of the door . Without sparing his wife any more gaze he stepped out of the room and she followed suite with her shaky walk step . Detective Kennedy sat on the sofa opposite the couch . Mr Brookes descended the stairs swiftly , he reached the sitting room in no time and stretched out his hand for a shake which the Detective responded to the gesture Kindly.

the detective asked the head of the forensic team. Amanda Spearsun, the head of the forensic team, replied to Detective, “Hey, Lira. (Sighed) The person’s name is Zirconius Wooferhook, and he was called “Host Hook.” “Any idea of the murder weapon?” The detective asked when examining the body of Host Hook. “Hook! So, the phrase goes like this: Mr Hook is hooked on a large-sized hook.” Amy rolled her eyes and made some facial expressions and gestures. The detective turned her face to the cop named Edan and asked, “Dan, did you inform the landlord?”

No. The department must be trusted. And the agency should send reliable people to work there. He closed all the windows with his mouse. - All open... you are a detective and you leave evidence like this? Maybe I do need a break. Without realizing it, he missed the slip of a criminal.

"After everything that's happened, you really do need to be careful. And as much as it pains me to say this, you should probably listen to the triplets on this one." "I know," I said quietly. "I just hate feeling helpless." "Hey," he said, bumping my shoulder with his. "Anyone who can take down a rogue with a dagger is definitely not helpless. Terrifying, maybe, but not helpless." I was about to respond when something caught my eye near the edge of the courtyard. A figure in a dark cloak, partially hidden behind one of the ornate fountain structures. My blood ran cold as I recognized the same mysterious woman I'd seen before—the one who always seemed to appear and disappear like a ghost.

One of the officers who came to pick me up for the investigation walks in, shutting the door behind him. He takes the chair across from me, staring straight into my eyes as he drops a thin file on the table. “Hello, Ms. Richardson. I’m Detective Jacob Hall, and I’m here to ask you some questions.” “Of course, Detective. Whatever I can do to help.” “How do you know Samuel Lawrence?” “He used to be my brother-in-law.” “Used to be?”

I peek my head around the corner and watch as she answers it, listening to the conversation on speakerphone. “Um, hello?” “Yes, I’m looking for Miss Harley Savage, please.” A deep, monotone voice booms from the other end. “Yes, I’m Harley Savage. May I ask who’s calling and what this is about?” She tries to say it calmly and confidently, but I can hear the shakiness and sadness in her voice. “Ma’am, this is Detective Rollins, with the Brockton Police Department. I have some rather unfortunate news about Mr. Alec Savagged. You do know him, correct?”

"McKinley, we have your guy in holding," Detective Gruber said, stopping by his partner's desk and looking down at the small, serious, dark-haired woman. She was poring over an open file, her elbow on the desk and her body slumped slightly in the chair as though she had been reading for some time.

Ó Don really started to panic now, but Detective Sparks wasnÕt really interested in him, she was after bigger fish on this fishing expedition. He wasnÕt much of a criminal, just a sleazy lawyer using his name and occupation to worm his way into young unsuspecting womenÕs pants. Her assessment was proven right when he fell for her ploy about knowing his handwriting. He never stopped to ask how that couldÕve been just fell right into the trap sheÕd laid.

“I don’t know. I tell him if there is a good venue, and I read to him. He is a sick man, Detective. You really should just leave him alone. He is not going to live for much longer. Let him go in peace, please.” “Temperance, I am not the bad guy here,” Detective Callahan leaned in the window, her eyes earnest. “I am trying to help you out. You are a good kid, you and Gabriel Dawson, for all your odd fashion choices. You have never been in any trouble. Don’t let the likes of Gregory Holmsworth drag you down.” “Look,” Vixen dropped her sunglasses so she could meet the detective’s eyes. “Gregory Holmsworth is a sweet, misunderstood, dying old man. You are looking at the wrong man. That is all I

My knuckles locked beneath his grip, the weight of his hand absorbing the nervous tremor in my fingers as the physical closeness began to cloud the panic of the pending inquiry. "Hold the line, Mrs. Blackwood," he growled softly, his silver eyes locking onto mine in the dim cabin. "The lead investigator is Harrison Cole. He was on Arthur's retainer five years ago. He is going to try to prove you acted alone. He wants to separate your approvals from mine."