Novelas y relatos de Detective

The detective felt odd by seeing Diane's super calm attitude, and her facial expression did not show that she was guilty in this case, he started to suspect something but maybe she was covering up something with that attitude, because every killer has its own character, isn't it? Actually, he was still anxious to find evidence that he did not find at all. he felt in the end but he still wanted to prove that Diane Lockhart was the murderer because he knew exactly and the cases he had ever faced, actually there was no case he had faced like this, usually he found evidence quickly and could even catch any evil killer quickly, why this case is like an endless hole

After Eliza left, Destiny and Jake went to the police station to fill out the reports and answer questions, the same questions asked in different ways over and over again. The detective was a wolf that Jake knew in passing and had a good reputation with both the humans and wolves. "Again Detective Clark, I didn't see the man who tampered with the brakes," Destiny said for the 100th time. "And it wasn't a truck you'd seen before?" Detective Clark asked as Diego, a beta from Wolfgang shook his head. He was the sole eyewitness and was fed up with answering questions.

He mumbled as I got closer . The Detective stretched his hands as we both shook . "What is wrong , Honey ?" As soon as I was a bit relaxed and we had walked away from where the Detective was. "Another one of my men had been found dead ." "Again ?" I asked surprised. "He was found today at the same place we have found other bodies. " "And so what Is he doing here... " I cut myself off as i eyed the detective that was busy already asking another member of the mafia questions ,I continued " He is not suspecting you, is he?"

She has worked so hard her whole life to support me and my career. "Miss Holmes, I want to let you know about your injuries, but before we begin this gentleman behind me has some things to go over with you." Dr. Matthews says. I sit on the chair next to my mother intending to stay in this same spot until someone forces me to leave. I hold my mother's hand and prepare for the worst. I have an idea what this detective is about to say. "Miss Holmes, I'm detective Anderson. I am the one in charge of the investigation regarding your café. He walks closer to the bed my mother is resting on, and I can see the hard lines across his fore

He took a seat in the chair in front of me without saying a word, as his eyes studied me for a good minute. I was utterly confused, but I wasn't complaining. The view was nice. "Hello Miss Leir. I am Detective Deckor and I have a few questions for you, if you don't mind" He introduced, shocking me right out of my skin. "Yo-you're the detective?" I asked as he took a pen and notepad from his coat. "Yes, is there a problem?" He questioned with a perfectly arched eyebrow. I didn't answer, I just regarded him for a while longer. I didn't want to believe it.

THE DETECTIVE'S TESTIMONY LUCIEN'S POV The detective's name is Colin Mercer, he is sixty-one years old. He retired from the police service fourteen years ago on a pension that, it has now been established, was supplemented substantially by a series of payments from a nominee account connected to Victor Hale's network of intermediary companies. He spent eleven days investigating Robert Vale's death. He closed the case as accidental. He retired shortly after and has spent fourteen years in a house in the Midlands with a garden and a routine and the particular arrangement of someone who has agreed with themselves not to examine cer

Sighing in discontent Once off, she tosses the light piece of fabric atop a chair with padded, floral handles that protrude from each side. She glances over at the safe, open, empty. She grimaces but has no time to ponder the outcome of her naïveté for her smartphone vibrates. She walks to the bed, picking it up—displeased when it displays the name DETECTIVE DICK. She answers with a grimace. Bea Larson: I don't have it yet. Detective Dick: You promised me intelligence, Larson. That son of a bitch needs to be locked behind bars. Bea Larson: