Misteri Thinking Out Loud Novels & Stories

I defended, knowing it wasn’t entirely true. “I’ve made a background research on you Miss Mia Cruise and I know for a fact that this office is like your secret lair, you still mourn the puppy you lost to a tragic accident three years ago even more than your late father and you are a huge fan of De Brans bar and go there every weekend to get drunk,” he said and caught his breath right on time. I gave him a puzzled look which slowly turned into a wicked smirk. “I’m sure this is an invalid case in the court of law,” I said, resting my head on my jaw.

“Why should I believe you actually work for Mercer?” “Captain Dean Mercer sent your file before you boarded,” he said quickly, glancing down the corridor behind me. “Yours and Detective Hale’s. I know who you are, so do not start doing that thing where you read my thoughts, because I am actively trying not to think anything right now.” Oh. So this was the missing informant Mercer briefly thought was dead. And right now, he was doing that thing where people try not to think anything at all. As if my brain respected effort.

“You’ve got the look. Purpose in your walk. Steel in your voice. You’re not a tourist. And I’ve been in this game long enough to know when someone walks into a room looking for something. Or someone.” I didn’t respond immediately. The silence between us stretched out, heavy with possibility. “I’m looking for someone who deals in information,” I said eventually. “Discreetly.” He raised a brow. “Is that so?” “You know someone like that?” I pressed. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I might be someone like that.” That wasn’t a surprise. I was counting on it. I reached into my bag, pulling out a folded page from the file. It was vague just a transaction list with a set of untrac

Not bad, you are smart,’ he thought. He came back from lunch in a foul mood because nobody was telling him anything; he knew he had been out of the loop for a few days… fine it has been weeks, but it looked like something was happening, and they were disregarding him yet again. The whole time they were having lunch, and none of them were talking, he kept on thinking, ‘I’m part of this family. Why is nobody telling me anything? Are they hiding something from me?’ he asked himself insecurely.

Xain said as he closed the door "So..............?" I asked "That was Mr Harrison Your driver for the night He said he was instructed to not to disclose anything about his boss to you or anyone else but I can at least say I tried" Xain sighed crashing beside me on the couch "I got to say this Mystery guy is pretty smart But I guess all this hide and seek ends tonight" I said feeling a bit sad that it will all be over tonight "Hey! Don't be down I have this feeling in my gut that he is going to do much better than we imagine

He would always be the first and only Aris that I had ever met. Egoistic and conceited. “It’s for you to find out but I won’t ever divulge even a single clue.” I frantically winked at him, impishly destroying his thoughts. “Anyway, let’s just enjoy our dinner together. I’m really famished, I might eat you!” “Eat me then!” He laughed.

You know how thieves thought everyone was a thief? Well, cheaters did too. Thalia could see the wheels in Gideon's head turning. In the past, she wouldn't have thought anything about the look he gave them but after seeing his true colors, she started to notice a few things she might have ignored. Like the little smirk on his lips. It was only for a second but she saw it and she had to wonder what he was thinking.

“You know, Rica, there’s talk going around in our subdivision. That there’s a mistress living here. I don’t know who they’re talking about, though. I just heard it earlier, when my husband and I got home from work.” “What?! Mistress? Who? What’s her name?” (Her questions came one after another.) “Are you okay, Rica? Take it easy with the questions. You’re asking so fast—I don’t even know which one to answer first.” “Sorry, Lorain. So... who is the mistress?” “That’s what I don’t know! But I want to find out. I will—tomorrow. I’ll ask someone I know around here.” (She told Rica on the other end of the line.)

I didn't even know what to say in response. Thus, I just stood up on instinct, grabbed my bag, and left. When I got home, I saw my phone flooded with messages from Elias. He asked how I'd been doing lately. He then asked why I'd been laughing so happily with Graham. Finally, he asked about the report I was supposed to finish for him. I thought of the report I'd burned and let a slow smile curl on my lips. That report had been an important one. I'd carefully selected the topic—something Ashcroft University professors were currently obsessed with.

A beat passed, and when I found my voice, I said, “Thank you.” Perhaps uncomfortable, or maybe overwhelmed, Mistra deflected and launched immediately into a series of “to do” and “not to do” lists, talking about when to leave the pack house, expected attire for when I was here, things not to say to Sirius, topics to avoid when talking to Sirius, topics that were acceptable, ways to pass the time outside of chess, what books to co-read with him to discuss, and more. “Don’t you think it would have been helpful to have all of this information beforehand?” I finally cut in, mentally frustrated and tired of trying to keep track of the sudden brain dump. It felt like a fire hose of information to