Detectives Novels & Stories

Grace was still in the doorway to the kitchen, her arms crossed, watching like this was some kind of entertainment. We moved into the sitting room. I sat on the couch. The detectives stayed standing.Detective Santos pulled out a small notebook, flipped it open. She had sharp eyes, the kind that didn’t miss anything. The kind that saw through bullshit. She was already studying me, watching the way I sat, the way I held my hands, looking for tells. “We’re conducting an investigation,” Harrington said. “Your name came up in connection with someone we’re looking into. Do you know a man named Samuel Taylor?”

the detective replied confidently, "Five minutes and I'll get everything I need." The doctor glanced at Damien who gave him a curt nod as a go ahead. The detective stepped closer to Diego and said softly, "Mr Bernadi, I am Detective Stanley from criminal affairs division. I just need to ask you a few questions if that's okay with you." "Miss Lana." Damien breathed painfully, "Miss Lana, where is she?" "That's what we'd like to know, Mr Bernadi," The detective answered. He held on to the bed rails and leaned in closer to Diego, "We know what she did to you but we'd like to hear the details from you as well,"

How did all of this get so out of control? Two detectives came in. One was older, maybe in his mid-fifties. The other was probably in his early thirties. He could tell immediately that the older one would be playing the role of bad cop. He had a scowl on his face that was only partially hidden behind his bushy mustache. They both sat down across from Rome, and the old man shuffled a stack of papers loudly before he cleared his throat and said. “Mr. Verona, I’m Det. Michael Bassett. This is Det. Terry Short. We’re, uh, sorry about your friend. You were good friends with Mark Hutio. Is that right?”

And she, for one, wanted no part in stealing such a mysterious grimoire to fulfill such stupidity. Jess noticed another detective trailing behind the woman, a man she guessed to be in his fifties. There was something familiar about him, a figure she had seen before but never interacted with. He was the head detective, renowned for his remarkable investigative skills. Though Jess knew little of the man, one thing was clear—she needed to keep her distance. Still, her curiosity held her gaze on them, unwilling to let go of the scene unfolding before her.

"Yes, who is this?" "This is Detective Sarah with the Sacramento Police Department. We need you to come down to the station immediately. You're being investigated for fraud and prostitution."

I can’t tell, but it makes my stomach twist. Maverick narrows his gaze. “Who are the other detectives on this case?” “I’m the lead,” Hanks says stiffly. “I didn’t ask that,” Maverick replies smoothly. “I asked who the other detectives are.” Hanks hesitates. “Uh… Assistant Detective Mills and Detective Simons.” “Good,” Maverick says. “Then we’d like to speak to Detective Simons as well.” Minutes later, Simons walks in... warm, approachable, the exact opposite of Hanks.

"I found an incriminating piece of evidence that the murderer left behind yesterday!" Everyone was excited. To save time, I started leading them straight to the suspect's house, explaining, "The crux of this case is the murderer's use of the knife this time…" However, the moment I stepped outside the headquarters, my phone started vibrating. I pulled it out and took a look. Immediately, the latest headlines burned a hole in my eyes. "Rising Star Detective, Nathan Sloan, Cracks Another Unsolved Case—Nabbing the Culprit Behind the 715 Serial Murder Case!"

James introduced himself and Dane, "I'm Detective James, and this is my partner, Detective Dane. May we come in?" Trisha looked scared and asked, "Did we do anything wrong?" Dane observed, "I don't know, you tell me. You seem flushed." Alicia appeared, saying, "Hey, girl, who's at the door?" The detectives entered, and Dane said, "Ahh, you must be Alicia. Our files say you guys are roommates." Trisha warned Alicia, "They're cops." Alicia responded, "We don't know nothing. We didn't do nothing."

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

Despite every rational reason not to. She needed answers. Needed clarity. Needed something. The parking garage felt cold. Concrete. Steel. Flashing emergency lights. The atmosphere alone felt wrong. A sheet covered the body. Police officers moved around it. Photographing. Documenting. Investigating. One detective approached Julian immediately. Middle-aged. Serious. Tired. "We have a problem." Julian's expression didn't change. "I've noticed." The detective didn't smile. Didn't react. "You're going to want to see this."