Detective Mike Norris Mga Nobela at Kwento

Deep lines, wrinkles, creases that hadn't been there minutes ago. "No... this can't be happening!" She staggered back, ready to bolt—then stopped cold. Every camera was locked on her. Teeth clenched, she forced a smile. "That doesn't matter. What matters is solving the case!" She tried to rally. "The most distinct trait of the killer is his hands—" But before she could land the point, a reporter pushed through the crowd. "Breaking news! The Carmoria State Bureau of Investigation just caught the real killer!"

“What the hell does that mean?” Mike stepped forward, a thick folder in his hands. His expression was all business now, but behind it lingered something sharper…hesitation. Suspicion. “This morning,” he began carefully, “a woman’s body was discovered near the South Bridge. Early twenties. Similar age and build to the other victims. But this time, we have something we haven’t had before…CCTV footage.” The air grew heavier with every word. Mike flipped open the folder, sliding a few grainy stills across the desk toward me. I leaned over, and my blood turned to ice.

I took a detour to the door and opened it. Standing on my back porch was a short, stocky, balding man. He had on a threadbare grey suit and a white shirt. His maroon and blue-striped tie hung loose, and the top button of his shirt was undone. His name is Richard Garth. He's a retired cop and a good friend. By the way, my name is Mike Torrance. I was a cop for ten years, but I quit to pursue a writing career. Richard retired five years ago and opened a private detective agency. I occasionally do work for him, and he stops at my house a lot to discuss cases. I wondered why he was stopping by today. "Good morning, Richard," I said. "What brings you over here so early?"

The first thing that caught my eye was the breaking news written in bold and Niklaus Rogers in cuffs. NIKLAUS ROGERS ARRESTED FOR THE MURDER OF MICHEAL GIBBINS I didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to know who did this. "Damn it, dad!" I cursed lowly. He did this. I told him to behave and he still went ahead to misbehave!

“Madam, a bottle of medicine was indeed found in Mr. Mike’s room. The police checked the powder in the bottle and it indeed contained the poison that caused your disfigurement. Mr. Mike’s fingerprints were the only fingerprints on the bottle… Do you want Mr. Mike to apologize to Mr. Howard so that the matter won’t blow up?” With that, the police officer walked down the stairs with an angry expression. In Mike’s room, there were poisons, medicine bottles, and a record of the evil plan in his phone. The purpose of his visit to Glass Manor was clearly written on it, as well as the steps to poison Gerald. Most importantly, Mike had orchestrated such an elaborate act. He had even called the polic

I open the door to find Mike with his pants down while a girl that barely looks legal gives him a blow job. The minute she notices me in the room, she scrambles to her feet. I hand her a hundred dollar bill and tell her to get out of the room and she quickly does that. “Who the hell are you?” Mike glares at me. “I'm about to be your worst nightmare if you don't tell me where Allison Reyner is.” I growl at him and I immediately see the guilt in his eyes.

she teased. Mike shrugged. "I feed the queen. It's part of my court jester duties." She laughed, and my nose picked up on something else too. Chemistry. I caught her glancing at him when he wasn't looking. He looked at her when she did. I gave a lazy smirk and sipped my lemon water like I didn't just watch an emotional fanfiction unfold in real time. The investigation wasn't going anywhere. The police had no leads. But Nicholas had another idea.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow. “ “Once again- great job. “ Declan headed away with the others and Mike remained alone. Jesse and Killian had left according to the plan. Mike lowered himself closer to the ground. It was covered in blood form Garrey’s shotgun wound. “I will take care of him, “Mike whispered, “You have my word, Garrey. And you’ll be buried, like you deserve. You didn’t die a traitor. You won’t be buried like one. “ Mike stayd like that for a while at the cold and dark port. The case was closed. And he had no idea what was to come form now on.

Mike looked up at her as she sat on the bed waiting for some kind of answer. "Sweetheart where is your phone?", Mike asked. "I left it in the car. I turned it off after the text message.", Lori responded as she looked at him. "Thank god she is sensible.", Mike thought to himself. "Good." "What if they put a tracker on her things?", Nevin asked. "We have nothing but the clothes we came with. Her stuff will only lead them to my place.", Mike said. "You are sure?", Nevin asked. "Positive. She was smart enough to turn off her phone on her own. I will bet she also checked her clothes before she put them on.", Mike said, and her eyes went wide, but she did nod. "She did."

Chapter 97: **Lucas** Just then, I could feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and checked the caller ID—Detective Mike. Then I sighed, my eyes shifting back to Valerie. “Sorry, I have to take this.” She nodded, and I made my way outside the club to the parking lot, where it was quiet. "Mr. Stone, it's Detective Mike.” “I know,” I replied. “What's going on?” “You're off the suspect list for Layla's murder,” he confided.