Novel & Cerita Detective Rizzoli

Then slowly reached for it, sliding out the file inside. A formal portrait stared back—Detective Inspector Jackson Reyes. Clean-shaven, steel-gray eyes, badge number typed in black below the photo. Another photo: a cropped ID shot. Another—him outside the courthouse in plain clothes. These came from a station database. Riko’s jaw tightened. “This is the guy?” “Yeah,” Luis said. “That’s D.I. Jackson Reyes. Narcotics turned violent crimes. Known for digging when no one wants him to.” “He was posted near the club two nights in a row. Just sitting in his car. Didn’t even try to hide it.” Milo scoffed. “He’s got a death wish hanging around here like that.”

Riele Romano~ Rielle watched as the two men looked at each other weirdly, A lady came in after Reed and quizzed her eyebrows “Good afternoon, Detectives. Is there any lead on my grandmother’s case?” Rielle asked, Breaking both Reed and Demetrio out of whatever silent argument they were having. “Uh, We actually came here to talk to you about it.” The lady says and Riele nods “Please have your sit.” She tells them and watched as the lady pulled Reed away

Streetlights reflected against wet roads while traffic crawled slowly through downtown. Detective Raymond Cole drove quietly through the city with one hand on the wheel. The station had drained him today. There are too many lies. There are too many rich names. There are too many things not adding up. Mallory Allison. Alejandro Romero. Jace Norman. And somehow— A woman who apparently didn’t exist. Cole stopped at a red light and rubbed his tired eyes briefly. Then suddenly— His phone buzzed beside him. Unknown Number. He frowned slightly before opening the message.

Rio whispered, she looks away. “What do you mean?” This time, it was his turn to ask. “I was under investigation for the killings that was happening in Belize.” Rio chew her lips and meet his eyes. “The detective that came here before you said that I was a primary suspect.” @cycy

If she persists, but for the moment, I have only one meeting to go by, but I won't put up with that sort of behavior. Others might tolerate it, but I know people like her, and the more she can upset you, the more you empower them, and I will not give in to that. If I remember rightly,Rio is a detective. Maybe I need to get him to look at his own daughter, or would that be a conflict of interest? This has to suck for him too. He is such a nice person. It is a pity he has a bad apple in the tree. I somehow managed to fall asleep, and when I woke up, it annoyed me that the last person on my mind when I fell asleep was Rissa and what she was up to next.

The door opened again. This time, a woman. Tall, in a sharp suit, and a cool voice. “Detective Dalton. Stand down.” Dalton didn't look like he loved taking orders. I was enjoying this. “He’s playing you too, huh?” officer Dalton asked. She ignored him, turned to me. “Mr. Rossi. There’s been…a development.” Dalton scoffed. “Don’t say it.” She walked past him, clicked the screen, pulled up a news stream.

“A detective, huh? Must be fascinating work. I imagine you hear all sorts of things.” “Comes with the territory,” Jane said, matching her tone. Eleanor tilted her head. “And what do you think of Ridgeview so far? Small towns have their charms, but they also have their secrets.” “Every town does,” Jane said carefully. “True,” Eleanor said, her smile deepening. “And the key to solving a mystery is knowing where to look. Don’t hesitate to stop by the shop if you need anything. We’ve got plenty of books on criminology. Very informative.”

𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀 They officially closed Rina's case today. Just like that, after months of investigation, they stamped it as cold. The detective told me it was because there were no new leads, suspects or interests. The detective said it like he was ordering coffee. “Sorry, Signor Moretti. We’ve done what we can.” What they mean is, Rina wasn’t important enough to keep digging for. She was a servant, a liability, and a woman with a questionable record. Nobody cares to find out who wanted her gone.

I grit my teeth and lift my elbows off the mattress while twisting my torso from side to side. Roman tightens his grip on my wrists. "Yes," he bites out harshly, "that's exactly what I was doing. I'm an undercover detective working organized crime. I was tasked with the responsibility of gathering evidence to help bring down Enzo and the Valentini crime family." My eyes widen with shock. Hearing him make such a bold statement without a hint of remorse makes me want to lash out. To cause pain. I shake my head as tears slip from the corners of my eyes.

But what I discovered instead is a million times worse. His name is Detective Rossi. 62 years old. His wife and daughter deceased. He’s currently suspended with pay from the police department. Has been seen coming and going from the Gallardo Brothers Taxi Company depot several times this past month. The pictures he attaches are the final nail in the coffin. It’s the same man, talking face-to-face with Thorton himself. “He was working with the cops,” I mutter under my breath. “That bastard was working with the fucking cops!”