Picture Perfect Mysteries Books の小説・ストーリー

I grabbed one absentmindedly and the rest tumbled down. “Shit!” I cursed and started to pick them up. A single photograph stuck out of the bunch, curiously, I opened that book, my breath catching at the image I saw. “Myra...” Pierce whispered behind me, a guilty expression on his face.

" Mia said with an evil grin on her face. "I'm dead." I walked ahead with a deflated shoulder while they just laughed behind me. Evil friends. *** I walked like a corpse the following day toward the restaurant. Last night, I couldn't sleep, even just a wink. I've been thinking where to get that damn picture. I've been wracking my brain to find the answer but get nothing. If I get it from the Internet, I'm sure my friends quickly find out. Did I ever mention that Mia is a computer genius? I think not, and Cora is an expert in Photoshop. If I photoshop a picture, they'll instantly know it. How could I make up a lie about that boyfriend thing again, ah, because I don't want to go on that blind

He shook her from his mind and pushed open the doors to the study. The rug-lined room was bigger than B’s above-garage apartment. Floor to ceiling bookshelves dampened any noise B might made in his whiskey search. There didn’t seem to be a single inch of space on any one of the shelves. Books of all colors, textures, and sizes were packed together. In front of the book spines sat hundreds of little treasures–seashells, pocket watches, glass figurines, and carvings of creatures. So many creatures. B let his fingers drift over the book spines: The Picture of Dorian Gray. The Catcher in the Rye. The Odyssey. Brave New World. The Call of the Wild. White Noise. So many stories he’d never read and

It was too calculated to keep this place from even the cops in the US and here in London. I walked into my father's room and headed back to the bookshelf where I found the picture of him,my mum and Mrs Grayson and Justin Anderson. I began to scatter through the books on the shelves and every photo album I could find. There was nothing. The giant painting of him just above the table in his study began to look a little too suspicious. I had seen this type of thing in those Sherlock movies where something is hidden behind the portrait. I managed to climb over the office chair with wheels as I try to balance myself from falling off.

I cough when it raises a puff of dust into the air on its way. “I gave you all the ones with more pictures,” Roger murmurs, closing his book and reaching for his next as well. “Wanted to make it easy on you.” My mouth drops open in a little outrage at his implication there but then I see the upturned corner of his lip. “Liar,” I say, smiling down at my book as I open the cover. The title page reads A Complete History of the Cults of the Dark God, 1862. “You just didn’t want to get your hands and clothes dusty touching all these old ones.” Passively, I gesture to my clothes – which are indeed covered in a light layer of grey library dust.

I think I need to find him… but if I do, how can I find him when I don’t know what he looks like? Will he come to my rescue? Will he end these mysteries?

POV: Beatrice A worn copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray wasn’t something I ever imagined finding among Ryuu’s belongings. Yet, there it was, the creased spine and dog-eared pages betraying how many times it had been read. As I picked it up to place it among my own books, a few photographs slipped free, drifting silently to the floor like ghosts of a past I didn’t know existed. Two photos. Both folded, creased with time.

I pulled the car into my designated parking spot and got out just in time to see the very handsome Inspector Epps and his not so handsome partner who I’d caught ogling my breasts getting on the elevator that would take them to the main part of the building. “Inspector Epps and his sidekick are getting into the elevator,” I said, thoughtfully, as I subconsciously placed my hand over my breast in a protective manner. “That seems a bit odd, doesn’t it?” My friend got out of the car and closed the door without looking in the direction that I indicated. “It’s a big building.” I raised a brow. “That’s full of murder suspects?” Her hands were monopolized by a travel cup containing coffee and a h

The hall fell silent, every eye turning towards May, her eyes narrow slits of fury directed at Ivy. "Oh hello there, Ivy," she purred, waving at the petrified girl with three fingers. "I'd like to tell each and every one of you that Ivy manufactured those intimate photos between Isabella and James. They're all fake and I've got evidence. She wouldn't even dare try to deny that!"

Skeptical Eliza may be but not wanting to be rude, she met up with Mirella at a cafe in the mall near her office. It wasn’t Mirella she saw there, however, but a European-looking guy quite as tall as her employers’ sons but not as well-built. She wasn’t sure who he was so she sat a bit further away. The guy approached her, nonetheless.