Investigators Book 9 소설 & 이야기

Mike had never even imagined he would be standing here, with Killian only a couple of meters in front of him, asking if he wanted to go upstairs with him. Killian was his mate. Yes, and Mike was having more and more difficulties ignoring the fact and doing his job. And his job was investigating Killian. What was the bigger problem was he wasn’t supposed to only investigate Killian, but the leader of the whole criminal empire. Richard. Oh, and by the way, Richard was Killian’s lover, os naturally Killian was chosen to be his future successor. So no, the right answer to the question asked was supposed to be “No, I am not coming upstairs with you. Have a good night Killian.” and all the what-no

He said clearly. I nodded with a fake smile. The next day, Beta Liu and I set out for Alpha Dante's pack house with the investigator, a wolf known for his keen sense of deduction, and the food detector, an experienced tracker of tainted meals. As we approached the pack house, I couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and determination. The truth needed to be uncovered, no matter how unpleasant it might be.

This was all his fault. Aaron Bridges was my captain back at the fraud department. He volunteered one of his detectives for a temporary transfer to homicide, and I managed to be the lucky winner. I silently curse him and everything else before making my way up the front steps. Making my way towards the captain’s office, eyes start following my every move. I knew they were talking about me. I tried to pretend that it didn’t bother me, but man was it hard.

His eyes stay bright despite the exhaustion dragging at him. We shuffle together to the couch. The leather groans as we sink down into it. His hand finds mine immediately. His thumb traces slow, soothing circles on my skin. The simple touch feels like a lifeline after all the recent chaos. He leans in closer. His voice comes out low and rumbling. “The investigator called me last night. They are narrowing everything down. Clara Holt is now the prime suspect.”

He shows me a row of heads spiked on the broken leg of a bar stool. He pulls out his phone and starts to take pictures. I rear back in surprise and can’t hide my disgust, “Because seeing them with your own eyes isn’t enough?” I balk. “Because I want evidence of what happened here. It needs to be documented and Kellen will want to see what we found when we come back with no answers.” He tells me. “Oh right. Good idea.” I forgot the Beta is an investigator. Not just a handsome face and strong. This was his job.

I said after another failed attempt. "Yes, in here, it's all in these book," He said, handing me the old weathered spiraled notepad from his desk. He had gotten the old fashioned way of saving numbers from me. I opened the call book and started searching up private investigators in the P segment. I found a few that seemed promising and circled them determined to make appointments to meet with as many of them as it would take.

The investigator arrived shortly after four, carrying a black document case and the kind of expression Marielle had learned not to trust. Nobody came to someone's house looking like that with good news. Grayson brought him straight into the study, shut the door and asked one of the staff to make sure Theo stayed upstairs. Marielle sat beside Grayson at the desk while the investigator opened the case. He took out two thick folders and placed them side by side. One was marked with a blue tab, the other red. That was it. Two ordinary folders. Marielle had expected something more dramatic after years of wondering what had happened to her father. She wasn't sure what. Maybe evidence was supposed

Instead, I found myself listening intently to the private investigator's voice on the other end of the line, with each word he said adding fuel to the storm that was beginning to form within me "Mr. McAllister, are you still there?" the private investigator's voice crackled through the speaker. I cleared my throat, forcing myself to focus. "Yes, go on Crawford. Tell me everything." As the private investigator began to unveil the truth, I slowly but surely felt my blood begin to boil, with fierce rage gradually building within me like a volcano ready to erupt. Trina Ryder– or whoever she really was– had masterfully erased her past, but even the most thorough cover-up leaves traces. After all,

“What are you doing?” I snapped the book shut and slid it across the table, while I stacked others on top of it as quickly as I could. “Nothing. Just reading.” I laughed thinly, nervously. He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway, stepping closer. “I heard about what happened in the forest the other day. I’m investigating who the culprit was.” I tilted my head, smirking lightly to mask my nerves. “Are you a good investigator?” Ian’s grin widened. “The best. I don’t rest until I get to the bottom of things.”

I did my best to take care not to scratch the leather, but when it fell into my arms, I noticed what looked like a fresh dig. Books were not as common in that era as they were in the future so I felt bad about causing damage to it. My lamenting lasted only briefly. An intense curiosity took over just as soon as I realized that it was a journal. It was not just any journal, either. This journal belonged to the late Elsbeth Sleuth. Could the deep, dark family secret be discovered within its pages? I simply had to find out. Lowering myself into a comfy nearby chair, I opened to the first page and focused on the elaborate handwriting. It took some time to familiarize myself with her dramat