Murder On The Orient Express Audiobook Novels & Stories

“When we found him, he was dead.” Daniel cut me off. “In his own home. Murdered. “Time of death was around four yesterday afternoon. Before your company even left for the escape room. “The weapon was an axe. “And on the doorknob of his apartment, we recovered a fingerprint.” Daniel lifted a fingerprint comparison report. The red markings made my eyes ache. “After analysis, that fingerprint… belongs to you.”

And Alicia took the phone away from her ear for a few moments before putting it back to her ear. "What's wrong?" Alicia looked back at the TV in front of her, her gut feeling again telling her something. "It's very noisy over there. Can you pull over somewhere a little quieter, Nic?" And it seemed that the detective immediately agreed. Alicia could no longer hear the noise that was disturbing her hearing now. Nicholas must have pulled over somewhere else. "A murder that took place in downtown New York," he said breathlessly. "Can you dictate the chronology of the shooting for us?"

"I only said they deserved to die. I didn't kill them. I hadn't even made my move yet, and they just… died. Like the universe decided enough was enough. "I'm not gonna lie anymore. I wanted to kill them, yes. I planned to. But I never got the chance. I don't know why they died before I even touched them." "Hannah." Alex's voice came again. Not cold this time, but steady. Too steady. I raised my head, eyes stinging, and through the blur, I saw it. He was holding a phone in his hand. The screen was cracked, caked with dirt and dark stains. My heart lurched. It was Mike's phone.

“I’ll be down in a second, Hedy… Try not to eat all the pasta without me.” “Pasta?” I brightened and hurried towards the stairs, pretending to hurry away, but I slowed my gait and focused my hearing as Candido and Allen began to speak. It was easier with my instincts so tuned into Candido’s presence. “There’s been another murder,” Allen said. I heard paper shuffling. “In the Eastern slums.” “… a suspect was caught?” My eyes widened, and I strained to hear more. Was it the same person who attacked headquarters or someone else?

Jean Luc could not wrap his mind around it, but maybe that was what the murderer wanted. With quickening breaths, he turned into the gaming room. His craving to resume playing the Human Apocalypse game flew out of the window. He knew the light blue inked pen that the murderer used to write the letter. Perhaps, it had RD's fingerprint somehow. He didn't know. His mind was in such a frenzy of worry that he could barely think straight.

Thank you so much for reading The Snow Storm! If you would like to find out more about what happens to Owen and the rest of the Williamson family then check out the sequel, Murder Motel. Here is a sneak peak of the book.. Chapter One September 17, 2007 “Am I speaking to a mister Owen Matthews?” “Um, yeah, that would be me.. Can I help you?” He does not recognize the female voice on the other end of the line but he has to admit, it is a beautiful voice. He would know how to spot a lovely voice, considering her heard random voices all day long.

I’m usually a black coffee guy, but it’s good. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not asking me to find his bones or solve a cold case?” The old monk laughs and says something to his attendant in Tibetan. Norbu nods in agreement and the old man decides to let me in on the joke. “I told Geshe we found the right man for the job.” “On the phone he mentioned the Chinatown murders. Why don’t you fill me in? From the beginning.”

Jiro warned as Raine took a deep breath before grabbing her gun as she reloaded it with her mana. "I know... I will fulfill my mission while taking my revenge on them," Raine spoke darkly as she aims her gun at Lyndell. *Bathump! *Bathump! Lyndell's hands start shaking, and her heart's beating sound is ringing in her ears. Blurry memories seem to keep appearing and disappearing in her mind, making her head throb painfully. Taking a step back, she didn't notice that Raine has already pulled the trigger of her gun and fired straight at her.

I could barely see the girl's face, since she had it all covered with her hairs, her head bowed down. What a suspisious look. I tried to read her mind, before I got interrupted. Passing by, a man talked on with his companion. "So I spoke with Sven and guess what he told me? He said it's a murder case." I stopped in mid track as I heard the word's that fall out of the man's mouth. I read him. A police officer of The Department of Crime from New York police station.

Antonio stood in front of him, expression unreadable, a silent executioner waiting for a confession. “Tell me, Moretti,” Antonio’s voice was eerily calm. “How much have you funneled into Nuovo Ordine?” Moretti swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Wrong answer. BANG! A gunshot ripped through Moretti’s kneecap. He screamed, body convulsing from the searing pain. Antonio crouched in front of him, a smirk playing at his lips. “Let’s try this again.” “I—I’m just a middleman!”