Detective Miller Novels & Stories

Bernice The news hit like a bombshell, sending shockwaves through the financial world and beyond. I stared at the TV screen in disbelief as the crisp-voiced anchor delivered the story that would dominate headlines for weeks to come. "In a shocking turn of events, Aaron Miller, founder and majority shareholder of the Miller Group, along with his wife Elina Miller, have been taken into custody by the FBI in connection with a 13-year-old murder case," the anchor announced, her perfectly coiffed hair barely moving as she leaned forward slightly. "Sources close to the investigation reveal that the couple is accused of poisoning Aaron Miller's first wife, Doris Miller, in what appears to be a care

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?"

He gently raised his hand towards my face, just as the doorbell rang loudly, interrupting the moment. "Who's there?" he asked, his tone now tinged with anger. I couldn't help but wonder what had caused the sudden shift in his mood. "Your food is here," he quickly responded, rushing towards the door to retrieve our meals. Some minutes later, Ryan entered the room carrying my meal, followed closely by Jessica who rushed in. "Where's that person!" Jessica exclaimed, dropping her bag on the chair. "Wow," Jessica commented, licking her lips. Food was the one thing that could instantly captivate her attention; she had an intense love for it, she's even willing to eat from an enemy's plate.

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.

Then slowly, he opened the clasp. Inside was a neat wad of cash and a few cards tucked into the side pouches. He pulled out one of the cards and read the name printed on it: Paul Miller, Teacher at Greystone High. A teacher’s wallet at a potential murder scene. Regardless of how out of place it seemed, the Sheriff knew he had his first lead—perhaps, his first suspect. And for the first time that evening, it felt like he was closing in on something.