Murder Mysteries Short Stories Novels & Stories

Don Niko didn't save me from the hands of death only for me to betray him like this. ‘You already messed up. Retrace your fucking steps Thalia,’ my innervoice urged me, making me slip my hands into my bag. My fingers curled tightly around the gun, my heart fluttering with fear as I slowly pulled it out. In my three years of murdering people, I'd never felt so scared to shoot someone. Christ. Was this what it felt like to be dickmatized? I discarded the thought. I wasn't weak. I wasn't sentimental. It was just sex and nothing more. It didn't change the fact that he was my target to assassinate.

she called the address to where she was going to the cab guy. "Get in" the cab guy replied and she hopped in. **** *Shop* Jasper has been briefed on Drake's murder and Anna's disappearance but what he's finding difficult to understand is how do they get a lead to the murderer behind Drake's death and Anna's disappearance. The four of them were now at the gun shop of Jasper's friend. "What's up nigga?" his friend greeted and did a handshake and a brief hug with Jasper. "I'm good man. I'm here to get some babies for my friends" Jasper replies.

Two months into the third year, he had almost paid back the loan in full, he had also begun to set up farms in Iowa, Minnesota, and Ohio. During the summer of the third year Daniel was vacationing with his girlfriend in Los Angeles, California, when he was murdered in the same fashion as the other victims, with his left big toe chopped off. Like the murders of the other victims, there was little to no evidence that can be used to trace his killer. The case ended up in the basement of the Los Angeles Police department, as one of the cold cases they had no plans of revisiting. Danny poured himself a cup of coffee, before opening the profile of the third victim.

Her shoulders trembled. The prosecutor continued. "Forensic analysis shows the child didn't die instantly. If he had received timely medical treatment, his survival rate would have exceeded 70 percent. It was the defendant who personally prevented rescue efforts and directly caused her son's death. "This was not negligence, and it wasn't an accident. It was a premeditated murder. She simply killed the wrong person." Esther's lawyer had no response. In the end, the judge brought down the gavel. Esther Lawson was found guilty of intentional homicide and sentenced to 15 years in prison.

“Check this out. He documented three nearly identical murders in that same area. 1914, 1951, and 1968. All with the same pattern—slit throats, no signs of entry, houses locked tight. There’s just enough time between them that nobody made the connection—except Anthony. He noted that he was keeping an eye out for a fourth.” She turned the journal toward us. The entries were detailed and clear—maps, names, dates, and disturbing consistencies. “And now here we are,” William said, nodding slowly. “No way one person could’ve pulled off murders that far apart in age,” I noted. “Exactly,” Alexandra agreed. “Alright. I’m in. But we’re not hitting the road tonight, right?” Alexandra gave a small shrug

He always gave the illusion of conceding verbally, but mentally, he was running things exactly how he wanted. She sat down on the bed, took a moment to collect her thoughts, and started her twisted tale. "There was this man who lived off odd jobs, but he changed jobs constantly. At one place he worked, a murder happened. The police got involved and found out the killer had a thing for dressing all the women he murdered in wedding gowns. He'd also do something to their eyes—" "Switch it. Tell me the twisted story you two were talking about this afternoon." Rachel had just been getting into the story when Tyler cut her off.

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.

Yeah, he'd learned to practice patience, but dealing with the police while they questioned Betty had just about driven him to the edge of reason. He opened the car door for her, holding her elbow as she climbed in. Daylight had waned, and the parking garage was dimly lit, the sound of other hospital visitors echoing through the cement structures. Betty listened for other things. Furtive footballs on the pavement. The click of a gun safety being released. The slide of fabric or the soft huff is a breath. Someone had tried to kill Dan just a few weeks ago, and there was no reason to believe that person would be content to let him live. The road went quiet as he stepped around the car. The soun

**** Grief hung heavily in the air within the Maxwell mansion after the hullabaloo of their son's murder remained unsolved. With the passage of time, hope gradually faded, and the search for the killer was reluctantly abandoned. The atmosphere in the mansion grew somber, a blend of fond memories of their lost son and the burden of unanswered inquiries. As the trail turned cold, a resolute detective named Evelyn Greywood entered their home as she was secretly hired, sparking a renewed investigation. Through her careful review of evidence and interviews, she began to uncover concealed family tensions and buried secrets that had long been overlooked.

She pressed. "That depends on your idea of a mystery," I said. "For a writer of murder mysteries, each new bizarre detail makes the plot more difficult to construct and adds to the sense of mystery. But for us working in the real world," I continued, " the ordinary and drab crime with no pattern that poses the greatest difficulties. The sensational, bizarre, and outrageous crimes that make the most popular stories are the easiest to solve. This case has been very odd from the start, Sandra," I added, "and new information never hurts. From the analytical perspective, Hector's visit simplifies our task." "Does it not make things more difficult for you as well?" Sandra asked.