Detective Miller Novels & Stories

"Detective Kaito Miller, new transfer." A man in a sharp, well-fitted suit approached, his gaze sliding past Ian and locking onto Zhedya with clear interest. "You must be Mr. Hunter. Your... dedication to civic duty is noted." Zhedya turned on the charm, a modest, polished smile gracing his lips. "Just a concerned citizen, Detective Miller. It's a pleasure. It's a true relief to know a man of your reputation is on the case. I read about your work dismantling that syndicate in New York. Truly impressive."

"I've handed the documents over to Officer Miller." "Officer Miller is an experienced cop. He's very efficient." "Officer Miller seems experienced, serious, and dedicated. Given his age, he's still a basic-level officer, which shows he's principled and doesn't rely on connections." "You're wondering how I know him, aren't you?" I smiled but didn't reply. "Ms. Middleton has made progress. You've learned to probe indirectly." Me: "..." "Officer Miller was the one who investigated Joey's case back then."

The handcuffs were heavy, a constant, chilling reminder that her world had flipped upside down in a matter of hours. Across from her sat Detective Miller. He didn't look like a movie villain; he looked like someone's tired uncle, leaning back in his chair with a soft, practiced smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Miller leaned forward, his chair legs scraping against the floor - a sound that made Olivia’s skin crawl. He placed a thick folder on the table between them, tapping it gently with a rhythmic, irritating thud. "You’re a remarkably quiet young woman, Olivia," Miller said, his voice a low, friendly purr. "Most people in your shoes are talking a mile

~ Adrian ~ “Is this all of them?” I asked. My voice sounded like dry parchment rubbing together. I didn’t look up from the mahogany surface of my desk. Miller, my head of security, stood perfectly still. He was a man I paid to be a ghost, a professional shadow in a world of high-gloss surfaces and higher-stakes lies. He nudged a manila envelope toward me. It slid across the polished wood with a soft, mocking hiss. “The latest from the sweep, sir. Found on the device we recovered. High-resolution, long-distance. They never knew they were being watched.”

I frowned at him in curiosity. "Go on, take a look." He urged, making reach out for the envelope. My heartbeat instantly went up, when I opened it to see pictures, pictures of a dead man in a body bag. It was the same man from two weeks ago with a huge, gaping hole on his forehead. I instantly recognized him and it made my blood run cold. "Malcolm Leroy." Detective Miller said, making me look back up. "Convicted on many occasions for murder, rape, assault and arson charges. Was definitely on top of our wanted list, until..." He trailed off, sipping his coffee and looking me in the eyes like he was searching for some truth.

Pathetic. Even dying, he was weak. The smell hits me then. Copper and something else. Something final. I press my palm against my mouth, fighting the urge to vomit. Not here. Not now. I have work to do. Focus, Jessica. Think. I grab a towel from the bathroom and wipe the letter opener clean. My fingerprints. DNA. Evidence. The police shows I watched in prison taught me enough to know I can't be sloppy. Miller's phone buzzes on the dresser. I snatch it, scrolling through his contacts. Mostly burner numbers and fake names. Smart boy, even if he was stupid enough to betray me. The screen shows seventeen missed calls from someone labeled "Boss."

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.

Dominic shouted. “Well there's no reason to hid it anymore since you already know, I am Detective Avery, yes I work for the cops and Red Talcum head? I've been trying to pin down the Mafia ring you work for but it's been very difficult, Andrew Richardson” Avery said smiling and packing her hair in a bun.

It’s not every day you get a fifty-dollar radio for your first successful case. The woman in front of me, who was unrelentingly trying to bore a hole into my head, was Maria De Vega, one of the PD’s suspects for a recent string of murder’s going around near the red-light districts. Maria was a mechanic who worked at Ross and, allegedly, a well-known vagrant in her area.

one of my co-workers said. Officer Rankin, Officer Douglas, and their assistants walk out of their offices and splashed a huge smile on their faces. It's as if something miraculous happened for the first time. "You're here!" Officer Rankin walk towards the man, offering him a handshake. I turn my chair to see them closer but they remain blocked by the plant in front of me. I sighed in disappointment. Officer Douglas follows them and offered his hand, too. "Detective Clayton Jones." He formed a warm smile. "Welcome to The Detective Tag firm, the L.A. branch."