Novel & Cerita Mary Morris Murders

"Werewolf from the eastern territories. Word is she's been assigned to keep Morrison in line, but she can't do much if he decides to go off script." I stood and straightened my tie, mentally preparing myself for what was likely to be an unpleasant encounter. Morrison had lost his parents in a rogue werewolf attack fifteen years ago, and he'd made it his personal mission to prove that all of our kind were violent predators barely restrained by civilization. The fact that he'd been put in charge of investigating Marcus Webb's murder was either terrible luck or deliberate provocation. "Should I call our lawyer?" Kyle asked. "Not yet," I decided. "Let's see what they want first. But record every

The crime scene photos were old and yellowed with age, but the wounds on the victims were identical to the ones in her case—gaping, jagged lacerations that spoke of unspeakable violence. She scanned the report, her pulse hammering in her ears. Lead investigator: Detective Michael Cross. Her father. The world tilted on its axis. "My dad worked this case?" Harris nodded, his expression grave. "Thirty years ago. Same pattern, same full moons, same damn claw marks. He never solved it. And then, one night… he vanished."

Marco sat down and said righteously, "Mr. Marwood, I've gone through your background. I know how powerful the Marwood Family is here, but none of that matters to me." "Who are you?" Tommy asked carelessly. "My name is Marco York. I'm in charge of the murder of Dorothy Faye. Do you know this person?" Marco showed Tammy a photo. "I do." "What's the nature of your relationship?" "Just distant friends. What's the problem?" Tommy appeared to be at ease, as though he was merely sitting on the couch at home. "She called you when she was on the run. Why? Are you in on the murder of Dorothy Faye?"

That means that the culprit behind the murder, is preventing us from finding something. “Who is Kate really?” I found myself asking. According to her she doesn’t remember her parents and her childhood. Melissa’s POV I have to quickly arrange Mary’s burial. I placed a call to her parish. We agreed for the burial to be on Friday. Now, within two months I lost both Albert and Mary. The way am seeing it, the major target is not just Kate but both of us. I quickly called all the detectives for a meeting. Sheriff Morgan’s POV

Roseline because she knew I wasn't happy and I was worried too because Morris was alone with dad and I didn't know why. As we were both taking the last stairs to my room, we heard a loud scream and a thud with the screaming voice of dad and Morris. Frightened, Mrs. Roseline and I ran back downstairs to see what was going on. Morris was on the floor and my dad was breathing hard standing close to him, and the last words I heard from Morris got me shocked. " You killed her, you killed Mom". He was shaking while on the floor with tears falling freely from his eyes.

How? "Ms. Sinclair," Morrison said, leaning forward slightly. "In the past week, we've had one murder, one explosion with multiple casualties, and now two missing persons connected to you. Your boyfriend's business partner "Marcus Trent" is dead. Your boyfriend Evan Grayson is missing and your aunt is missing. You're the common thread connecting all of these incidents." "I'm a victim," I said firmly, letting anger color my voice because it was genuine. "Evan betrayed me, used me and from what I've learned, he was involved in criminal activities I knew nothing about.

I informed him as I watched the doctor check his pulse and then proceed to take a better reading with his stethoscope. When the doctor was sure that the old man, though having been attacked was fine and would probably only need some painkillers if he felt the need to, he left the tablets on the table and then returned back home. “Why would someone attack Elder Morris?” I asked no one in particular as I started to think back to the reason behind this. “There are two cases either someone was trying to rob him or they were aware of who he was and was trying to stop him from helping out the pack,” Dad simply laid the two options down, and though I wanted to believe in the first one I found mysel

A woman in a sharp grey suit who introduced herself as Detective Morales. She looked at Henry. At the gun. At the bullet holes in the wall. Then she looked at Alexander. "Henry Black," she said. "You're under arrest for the murders of Nora Black and Eleanor Vance." "You have no proof." "I have twenty years of witness statements, financial records, and a confession you made to a dying priest in 2015." She pulled out handcuffs. "The priest recorded it. He gave it to us last week. On his deathbed."

She was running over. There were specks of blood on her clothes and her face. She was a terrifying sight. Zorro rushed over. "What happened? Why are your hands like that? Are you hurt?" Merope smiled evilly. Her drunken eyes looked wild. "I'm a murderer, Zorro. I killed Arthur Gabelman. I've finally killed him. I've dreamed of this for years…" She covered her face and wept. Zorro patted her back, his expression unreadable.

Just like the usual nights, Morrigan had the same dreams, the same dark endless hallway she stands every night. The same scene of tall walls of flames, her mother's lifeless body, and the same voices taunting and haunting her eve in her dreams. But this time it was even more frightening. Screams and laughter mixes in her mind, in that endless darkness everything is shrouded in dark clouds, she couldn't see anyone. But when there finally came light in front of her is Lydia's dead body. Drenched in blood, molested, and murdered brutally. It was the same scene but this time behind Morrigan was a tall shadow of a man. When she turned around the maniacal smiles of her uncle was the first thing sh