Detective Miller Novels & Stories

“It’s not even used to the fullest. If I were the killer, I would even put this to the face of the victim for mockery’s sake.” Jack cringed and looked horrified at his boss. “That’s disturbing, boss.” but Jack knew very well how his boss’ mind works; that is why he was able to solve so many cases while he was on the force. That is why he was considered one of the greatest detectives to ever work at the force, and that is why he looked up to Azrick Norton Tevyat to the point of following him into becoming a Private Investgator. He could not help but smile.

As I was passing the front door, my steps were abruptly stilled by the knocking that came from the other side of it. Moments later, and the last thing I expected to see when I swung the door open, was the sight of a man in a suit. His hair was perfectly combed and he held a briefcase in hand. About him was an air of authority as he inquired in a smooth voice, "Miss Mills?" At his question, I nodded, squinting against the brightness of the day as I peered at him. "Can I help you?" "My name is Richard Stevens," he replied. Afterward, extending his hand, he continued, "I'm an attorney representing the estate of the late Mr. Torin Montero."

It was a simple little cottage. Raven was just a simple girl working in a company, living in a small house from her earnings to the town. One day, that would change. One day, she'll move from the wretched Domsville, where every second was a risk. Nobody knows her as RD, except for her crew. Nobody knows anything about the murderer except for the fact that a tattoo of the two letters, RD, was permanently on his or her back. She let the police figure it out with a mistake.

"What!!" Belle yelled bewildered as she stood up abruptly from her seat. Jasper suddenly dropped his fork on the table as he turned fully to face the mirror. "Although, the FBI hasn't confirmed this information yet or even addressed it" "Anonymous pictures have been released in a place confirmed to be detective Jasper's house" "The pictures captured detective Jasper and the assassin to be in what could be considered as a conversation " she continued and just then the images of the screen changed to the pictures.

Cold and menacing. Then, at last he turned to Mila, not looking at me once and said, “I guess, I have you to thank for my dead father, little sister.” Little sister? I looked at Mila, who stared at him and then after a moment as if remembering something her eyes widened and a gasp left her lips. __ JEREMIAH's book is out!!! Now Released: TWISTED MARRIAGE- A DARK MMF MAFIA ROMANCE Check out my new books CAGED- A Dark Billionaire Captive Romance and His Broken Princess.

"I'm just sayin-" "Okay stop" I cut him off sharply. "With all due respect Detective Edwards, Detective Deckor is just doing his job. This man held a gun to my head! He's connected to Mia. If he speaks, I wont have death following me around me around with his evil stick or whatever it's called. So if you don't mind, let the man do his job." I ended, taking him by surprised. "And for the record, instead of treating Tristan like he's some inexperienced kid who will only be a burden, maybe try working with him because he's a damn great detective and a way better one than you in my book"

"W-We haven't figured that out yet." "That's a child in your kindergarten. How can you not know who he is?" David quickly ordered the teachers to check. While the officers weren't looking, Esther leaned in close to my ear again. "Eve, you'd better think carefully. If I go down, you won't walk away clean either," she uttered. My heart clenched. I turned to look at her. She was smiling eerily. "Your son gave his hoodie to someone else. That child died. Everyone thought it was your son. Don't you think people might start wondering what really happened?"

“Mr. Adrian.” Dante looked up. Detective Miller stood before him, still holding his small notebook, his expression worn with the fatigue of a city steeped in crime. Behind him stood a well-dressed man with a federal badge clipped to his belt. “Detective,” Dante greeted shortly. “Marco’s still unconscious. If you’re here for his statement, you’re wasting your time.” “I’m not here for him, Dante,” Miller said, sitting beside him while the federal agent remained standing, observing Dante like a specimen under glass. “This is Special Agent Ward from the DOJ. We need to align a few things regarding the… ‘incident’ in Alaska.”

We were sitting in her room catching up, we hadn't seen each other in two weeks. "Yeah, he should be here soon." Mia replies. Diego Garcia is our other best friend, Mia, Diego, and I have been inseparable since we were seven years old. Suddenly, the door opened, "I've arrived," Diego shouts. He always does this. He's a very dramatic person. Diego Garcia is a hacker for our mafia, along with Mia, much like me, Diego and Mia never go on missions. We mostly work from our warehouses. "Stop screaming, Diego." I scold him jokingly.

An open mug of lukewarm black coffee sat near his elbow, surrounded by stacks of yellowed, dog-eared case files he had quietly pulled from the decommissioned federal storage logs. Denkley rubbed his tired eyes, tracing a finger down a column of printed names. "This doesn't make any sense," he muttered to himself. He had spent the last three hours cross-referencing the internal serial numbers associated with the physical object he had recovered with historical precinct records dating back fifteen years. He wasn't looking for the relic itself anymore—he was looking for the people who had touched it. And what he found made the hair on his arms stand up. Detective Frank Miller—assigned to an unc