Nick Browning Killer Novels & Stories

His face paled at the thought. “Call the police. This is urgent. Tell them everything that happened. Let them check the CCTV footage,” he instructed Shelburne. Then his thoughts went to Brooklyn. She was all alone at the villa. “I have to go back to the villa. Brooklyn’s all alone,” he said in a panic as he strode out of the office, too worried to listen to Shelburne’s reply. Nikolas had never felt so scared of his own life as he was for Brooklyn. If anything happened to her, he would never be able to forgive himself. He drove like a maniac, faster than lightning in his haste to reach her. Parking the car in front of the villa, he rushed out towards the main door. However, his heart constric

he snapped. I held his gaze, unflinching. “Do we?” I asked, “Because last I checked, Briggs knew the risks of murdering his own wife in his own home. And now the Feds are closing in, and he’s looking for a way out?" Niko’s jaw tightened, “He’s been useful, Alessandro. And he’s got information on all of us—on you. The Feds found his fingerprints on the murder weapon that killed his wife. They’re gonna nail him to the wall, and if he flips—”

"They don't get any better, Detective; the next guy, Harold Conner, was out on the fucking payroll for burning his victim alive. What kind of dumbass judge would turn a sicko like him loose?" Nick read from the last file that the third suspect, Steven Ballance, had spent most of his life in and out of mental institutions all over the state, then he glanced at me.

"The body was gone." Nobody spoke. Nobody breathed. Even the rain outside seemed quieter. "The body was gone," Adrian repeated. "Victor was gone too." Quinn stared. "What about Mark?" Adrian swallowed. "Mark was still there." The room froze, because that changed everything. For years Adrian had believed Mark died. But according to his own memory, Mark survived. Victor survived. The body disappeared. And somebody removed every trace of what happened. Then Damian suddenly spoke. "What if that's why the killer is targeting everyone now?"

he asked impatiently. “George Brown,” his private investigator replied. And when he saw the confusion on Robert’s face, he continued. “He was an ex-convict, works at an automobile repair shop in the city,” he brought out a brown file, placing it on the table. Robert tore open the file which revealed the images of the so called George Brown who for reasons unknown him, had murdered his wife. A bald man in his mid forties with a huge scar on his forehead. He grimaced at the sight of the man, clenching his jaws as he squeezed the photo in hand. “Where does he live?” he asked through gritted teeth as he stared at the private investigator with blood shot eyes.

“ and it will also explain why no conclusion came out of Mila ‘s case , if the guy was still incharge of his department while the case was still being investigated on , I’m pretty sure he must have deleted those important evidences to close the case for once and for all “ said Lewis knowledgeably . I felt sick in my gut , a few months ago , I was a good citizen of my town and country and had firm believe in the police department of my city but now - turns out Jacob was right , in the end every black stain can be washed out with black money . It cancels everything out - even murder . Pretty soon Seth brought us to his computer room and all of us gathered around him . “ now let’s take a look

“proceed.” “My name is Paul Marshall, also known as Jones Brandon. I am the poetic killer but I was never alone. I had a partner, Andre Green, real name, Benjamin Miller. I am responsible for for the death of thirty young girls including Sarah Martins and Becky Gibson and my parents Mr and Mrs Green. Benjamin and I grew up in the same orphanage know and we had promised to get to each other no matter what separated us not even adoption. We had sworn an oath to stick with each other till death did us part and my only regret is death came too soon.”

I ask, finding it hard to believe that the materialist bimbo I almost married would try to kill me and risk losing my wealth. “No, but she provided the person who did with the opportunity to do it,” Brian says mysteriously. “Stop being a Sherlock Holmes and tell me who did it,” I say firmly. Three people would be suspects if I try to guess. Micheal and her parents, but I don’t have the energy to do the guessing now. I have waited for months for this. “Miss Brown drove the car to her boyfriend she was cheating on you with. That is your almost killer.” I can only shake my head at the discovery. “Micheal.”

Nick was telling the truth that they weren't busy nowadays. Nick asked him to wait for him in the lobby while he arranges everything they need to find Patricia. Gonzalo sat on one of the couches and watched his surroundings. Nick is one of his oldest friends. They met just after he graduated from college. It was when he still despised crime and violence. He may have grown up with killers, but he never once joined his father's activity. Not even when his father forced him to kill. Not until they forced him to kill his wife and son.

"I'm asking you a question, little boy. Where is your little sister?" He stayed silent until he got out of breath and died over his mother's dead body. "What the f*ck? Where's that Minnie Mouse?" He asked one of his men. No one answered. "Nick, I told you to tie her up," he sighed as the killer named Nick scratched his head. "The little rat escaped," Nick answered. He soughed before looking behind him where his newly recruited teenager was standing from the corner of the woman's house. He could see the shock on his face, but the killer just chuckled and walked towards him.