Reading Mystery Novels & Stories

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come out. "Hello? Eve? What happened?" She continued speaking, but I couldn't hear anything anymore. My phone slipped from my hand and hit the ground with a sharp crack. Slowly, I turned around and looked at the small body lying there. That blue hoodie was exactly the same one my son, Leo Spencer, had. Could it really be him? Step by step, I walked over and lifted the cloth covering the child's face. It was a mangled, bloodied mess. His features were unrecognizable.

Even though I'm still exhausted, I'm wide awake now. I know I won't be able to sleep until I answer some of the questions I have. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to answer any of my questions about the mysterious man I saw at the party. Without a name or any other identifying information, it's impossible to research him. Instead, I start with a simple search for "Raphael Fontaine." It pulls up some things I know and some things I don't. It also brings me to his official website. Curious, I click on the link.

“Nothing seemed to make sense so far. As I tried to piece together an improbable puzzle in my mind, the more my head throbbed with pain. It was almost impossible to attach any meaning to those riddles. Marks and mysteries, the title itself was already a riddle. I, who had gradually climbed to better positions in my career in the police, now felt like an ugly duckling and incapable of solving an apparently simple investigation. In fact, only apparently, because deep down, that race to find some meaning seemed to have no end.

“I’ve been writing, too.” I stared at him, utterly stunned. “You? Writing?” He laughed, a rich, joyful sound that carried on the wind. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re not the only one with a story to tell.” He pulled a small, black moleskine notebook from his coat pocket. “It’s not a memoir. It’s… well, it’s a mystery. About a grumpy, retired surgeon who gets pulled into solving a crime in his sleepy coastal town.” I burst out laughing, the sound mingling with the crash of the waves. “Arthur! You’re writing a murder mystery?”

I can feel a shiver run down my spine as I gulp. Something is weird about the atmosphere... how come everyone suddenly disappears? I slowly swallow the candy that was sitting in my mouth. It was a soft candy, so it didn't hurt my throat. Clenching the handle of my bag tightly, I try to walk as normally as I could master. *Bathump! Bathump!* Calm down... there must be a reasonable explanation why this happened, right? A shadow shape of a person appeared behind me. The more I try to walk faster, the more it follows me. Turning around to the different alleyway, I tried to lose the shadow. Since I wasn't paying attention to where I'm heading, I ended up walking to a dead end.

She knew the scent before she even opened the box—it was her mother’s recipe. Her eyes narrowed. There was no way he could’ve known that. Not unless… She stepped into the hallway and glanced down the corridor, heart starting to pound just slightly. Her eyes scanned the flood of bodies—interns in scrubs, gurneys rolling past, a code blue being paged overhead. And then, through the shifting crowd, she saw a mysterious man. He stood halfway down the corridor, half-hidden behind a group of surgical residents chatting near the elevators. His face was obscured by a black KN95, and a baseball cap sat low on his brow, but even through the layers, something about his presence felt… familiar.

“I want you to ransack her bag and bring whatever you find there.” Immediately Drey nodded and left my office. I moved to my laptop, typing in some things. Long time ago, I had installed camera's st tge gate of the Moon Blood Pack. I wanted to know everything going on with my uncle. With this new discovery, I zoom in to the camera at the mansion. There were numerous cars driving out of the mansion. I frowned. Whatever was going on, my uncle was up to something.

Saying that the inspector left the house. All three friends are in Mack’s house. They were playing dart and were talking loudly. “Hey guys, summer vacation is near,” said Mack. “Yeah. Do you have any specific plan on that vacation? asked Ron. “Yeah, a silly one, a silly one to disclose the mystery of the lake” replied Jerry. He also added “This is not a silly tour rather it is a stupid plan to spoil our vacation. You know few death incidents happed due to the lake and also how far we can go!” Ron’s dart hit the center of the dart board and he shouted yah! “What nonsense are you talking about? I do not want to spoil my vacation with this. I have a plan to visit some place in this vacation wit

I went to the living room and, as expected, found the pair of underwear I was looking for in his bag. Downstairs, I called my best friend. "Help me look up someone. I have shopping records." I started the car, planning to visit the real estate office to check on property transactions. Suddenly, I felt something sharp poking at me from underneath the seat. I reached down and pulled out a black lace bra. Clearly, it matched the underwear. This car was usually Milton's—since I worked near home, I usually took the subway. This meant their entanglement that night had probably started in this very car.

I leaned forward, my breathing slowing as the question that had been nagging at me burst forth. "Are you hiding something from me, Ryan?”