Female Detective Novels Novels & Stories

In the end, Meredith and George decided to arrange a meeting with the police detective assigned to Helena’s case, Detective Sergio. He was a tall, lean man with clean-cut hazelnut hair. Alice could make out the wrinkles in his forehead and cheeks as he settled himself in front of her. She watched the man remove his black coat and placed it on the table before taking out a medium-sized notepad and a pen. Alice loved comic books about detectives. Her favorite was James Gordon; he was Batman’s acquaintance and a respectable captain of the Gotham City Police Department. Whenever she saw a detective, she could not help but be mesmerized by their badges and work.

Williams smile became brighter “ So she the blood thirsty flower I’ve always heard about. I really did underestimate her identity but this, this is way better” ‘ But she is truly foolish. Did she create the duplicate so that she could see if I could find any new evidence related to the deaths? If it is so, how does she plan to convince me about the dead body? It seems I have to help her now' ........... WELLINGTON STREET Sirens could be heard as police cars surrounded a building It was another death The wife of the victim held the body crying as she kept repeating the same words she had been saying since she was informed of her husband's death

If you're wondering how I became a detective, I would gladly tell the story. *Jane's Back Story* My full name is Jane Crook Watson but I only use the first and last of my name. And also that's why Maria called me Detective Crook. Anywise since I'm in high school, I am very fond of solving riddles and reading mystery books like Sherlock Holmes, Geronimo Stilton, and many more. Let's say I did a little bit of advanced studying during my high school days which leads me to excel in my college days. To cut the story short, I graduated as the top student in our class with a bachelor's degree in criminal justice and applied for police officer training. The agility test was the hardest part of the t

The metallic click of the door handle yanked me from my thoughts. Two figures entered — detectives. Human, of course. The first was a tall, lean man with close-cropped hair the colour of iron and sharp, assessing eyes. He carried himself like a soldier who’d seen too much — all control and no softness. His badge glinted faintly under the sterile lights. The woman beside him was different. She was younger, maybe mid-thirties, with dark curls tied neatly back and a steady, unreadable expression. But her eyes… they were too knowing. She had the kind of gaze that could peel you open if you weren’t careful.

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 and observed every person slowly,

Ferisha said. They were sitting opposite now. Valentino still couldn't understand it because it turned out that the detective hired by Agusta was a female detective. And until the few seconds he had sat in front of the beautiful woman, he still couldn't say what was going on in his head. He was still very surprised because it turns out that in Indonesia there were female detectives who also seemed quite great. "So what can I do for you?" Ferisha asked politely to Valentino. Valentino, who had been daydreaming, immediately focused on the female detective who was asking him.

Most things are about detectives and all their boring stuff but something tells me to go through it because I might know a thing or two. I've opened almost all the books on the first shelf. Turns out detective books are not so bad. I also passed out my time by checking some of the murder novels on the shelve. One really caught my interest. Dying to call you by Elaine Viet. It's about a girl finding her sister's murderer and all that.