Detective Novels & Stories

Ruby stretched her hands and smiled at the detective. The detective wasn’t sure what to reply. “You might be happy now. You are going to regret it later. But the next thing I’m going to do is find the wickedman. I bet you already know him. Don’t you? I’m not going to leave you until you reveal him.” “Hell, no. Whether you believe me or not, I have never seen his face. He’s always with a weird, scary wolf mask. His whole body is covered in a black suit. He’s...”

Luca nodded. “I’m Detective Harlan, assigned to the case surrounding Mr. Wolfe’s incident and the late Mr. Paolo Virelli.”

He pleaded. "I'm not interested." I said in a serious voice, though it was shaking a little bit. "I’m here because I heard rumors of your detective report, then the hospital incident...The wolves.” My eyes went open in shock. I released him slowly. "How do you know that? He stood up, dusting himself off. "You're pretty strong and rough for a lady...but then again, you're a detective. I should have expected this much." My red eyes were fixed on him, demanding an answer. “Who are you?”

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?"

The grave was halfway full of dirt, the casket no longer visible, just the flowers that were thrown before the first particle of dirt ever fell from his casket. Azrick granted once more, irritated that he seemed to be at the dead end, and the constant murmurs of the media people and journalists—- their speculations and theories of their own. As a detective who needs to see things based on the facts that he had collected and was given to, he needs to see things in an objective way and without the meddling of those people. After he watched the flower be buried under the dirt, the raindrops ever so slowly wetting the ground, turning the dirt into mud, he looked a

She can't help herself they just bring back bad memories for me. Towards the end of the night the evening had died down only a few people where left In the restaurant. She makes myself a cup of tea and sits at the bar and drinks it waiting till the diners all leave. All of a sudden she felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up turning around seeing the detective staring at her, he pulled out a bar stool and sat down and said to her " I'm sorry if I'm staring at you but you look really familiar, I don't know where I've seen you but I feel as though I now you, or maybe you look like someone I just can't figure it out". I smile at him and nod my head b

The detective asked, as she got the glass from Hazel’s hand and placed it back on the table beside her. “Like I died and I’m back or am I?” Hazel asked leaning back at her pillows with a sigh. “Who are you?” She asked, with her eyes still closed. “Excuse my manners. I’m detective Sarah Parker, and I’m the one working on your family case.”

We asked for the detective handling our original case and were led to a small interview room. The detective, a middle-aged man named Harris, listened carefully as I laid out everything. We handed over copies of the investigator’s files the recorded phone call, the photos, the bank records, the evidence of tampered brakes. Bella sat beside me, holding my hand tightly, her face pale but determined.

He’s Jillian May, a detective. “I’m Brandon Niall, a detective as well. This time might not be the best approach considering the burial had just finished, but it’s way better to cooperate with us as soon as the incident is still fresh in your mind.” The other man said as he showed them his identification card as well.

He flashed a wry smile, beginning his introduction. “Welcome, everyone,” he said, his voice smooth and steady. “I’m Detective Jamal Khan. By day, I teach you all how to defend yourselves. By night, I deal with the kinds of cases that make that knowledge necessary— cases involving our kind; werewolves, witches, and all those creatures lurking in the shadows.” A hand shot up from the middle row—a young man with an eager expression. “Have you… taken any lives, Detective?” he asked, his tone part-curious, part-nervous.