Novel & Cerita Detective Miller

The next day, Scott started to put his plan into action. He knew Florence wasn’t going to like when she heard about it, but a man has to do what a man has to do. He told his assistant he’d arrive late at the office that morning so he could call his private detective for more information without being interrupted. Mr. Miller was one of the best there was in the country and he worked for Scott on several occasions over the years. His service was impeccable and Scott didn’t trust anyone else.

Detective Sullivan attempted his way over towards me, but barely passed Elizabeth when Captain Johnston’s voice was heard throughout the room. “Anderson! My office!” I take one last look at Elizabeth before sulking my way into his office. “Captain.” I say shaking his hand. “Detective Anderson. I didn’t expect to see you back in my office, let alone my squad room. How have you been?” His calm demeanor taking me by surprise. I half expected the same reaction I had gotten from Elizabeth. The way I left everything; I was amazed he wasn’t yelling down my throat.

A two-way mirror that hummed with the presence of unseen watchers. ​Detective Miller was already there. He was sitting with a file folder open in front of him. A styrofoam cup of coffee steamed near his elbow. ​“Sit down, Jerome,” he said. Not Mr. Parker. Jerome. He was trying to establish dominance. ​I sat. The handcuffs were chained to a bolt in the floor, forcing me to lean forward. ​“Where is my lawyer?” I asked. My voice was raspy, dry from hours of silence.

"It'll take a day or two to come through given how uncooperative the carrier's legal department tends to be. But we will get them, Mira. And if there's even a trace of that conversation on their servers, matching what we already found on Jems' laptop, you and I are going to have a very different conversation." Mira just stared at him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I hope you find her," she said quietly. "I hope you find Jems and bring her home safe. That's all I care about. Not whatever you think I did." Miller stood up slowly, gathering his file, watching her the entire time. He'd interrogated hundreds of people over the course of his career. Murderers who cried real tears. Co

7-9-2-Alpha-X. I wrote it down on a scrap of paper. I unplugged the USB and put the silver chip in my pocket. I shoved the bag back on the shelf. I was turning to leave when the door opened. I froze. A detective stood there. A man I recognized. Detective Miller. He had interviewed me after the bomb. "Mr. Thorne," he said, his eyes narrowing. "What are you doing in here?" "I... I was looking for the bathroom," I stammered.

I stared at the screen, hands shaking as Jenna's interview played. Reporters swarmed her. She just smiled, calm as ever. "I have a special ability," she said. "I can see from a killer's perspective. That's how I found the serrated knife and tracked him down." The crowd went wild. "No wonder Detective Blake's unstoppable!" "With her around, criminals don't stand a chance!" Then a reporter cut through the noise: "Since you joined, Detective Mercer hasn't solved a single case. What do you think about that?"

JACE BALDWIN'S POV Nate's lifeless body sprawled awkwardly on the floor, the brown T-shirt he had on soaked with the red fluid of his blood. People got busy snapping away at the body, and murmurs slowly erupted from the people. "What are we dealing with?" Ian had his usual blank look as he and two pack detectives stopped before me. "Murder." A red-haired female detective with upturned eyes responded while shoving a notepad into her pants pocket. "I'm Detective Miller."

“The signal is consistent, Mr. Miller. The last call was recorded clearly. I’ve already made a duplicate to be used as evidence.” Cale nodded. “Keep monitoring. No one makes a move. And what about updates from Detective Aaron’s team?” “He’s made a few movements, but nothing particularly suspicious so far.” “Make sure he doesn’t slip out of our sight.” “Yes, Mr. Miller.” Cale leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk. His smile widened—not the triumphant grin of a final victory, but the quiet satisfaction of someone who knew his opponent had just stepped onto the wrong square.

Detective Miller stood there, her weapon drawn, flanked by four officers. ​"Marcus Vance," Miller said, her face a mask of iron. "You’re under arrest for the murder of Arthur Miller and the attempted bribery of a witness." ​"This is a mistake!" Marcus shouted, his composure finally shattering. "I haven't sent any messages!" ​"We didn't need a message, Marcus," Miller said, holding up a tablet of her own. "We just needed a ping on your GPS. You’ve been at the scene of every 'incident' for the last forty-eight hours. And Mr. Vance here was kind enough to unlock your encrypted drive for us."

He rebutted everything my lawyer said. The most crucial problem was the lack of evidence that Gigi had hit Marie. It just so happened that Gigi's dash cam and the security cameras located at that junction had all broken down that day, so there was no footage from the scene of the crime. Even the previous eyewitnesses changed their statements. Clearly, Zachary had done something.