Shattered Cold Case Novels & Stories

This time, he came to destroy. --- It started with a headline. Killian had just stepped into the entrance of the shelter when he heard the buzz — biting whispers, horrified gasps. Janine rushed to him, phone outstretched, her face pale. "You need to see this," she whispered, shaking. Killian took the phone. The article stared back at him, the bold letters screaming: **"Blackwood's Dirty Secrets: From Criminal Empire to Philanthropist Fraud"** He read the words once. Then again. And again.

“So what do we do? Should we still send them the footage of your conversation with Edward? Should we report the sex trafficking?” Dawn meets my eyes, her tone measured but fierce. “If they’ve been flying sex workers across state lines, that’s federal. If anyone coerced those women at the orgy parties, if they were undocumented, vulnerable, and pushed into it for access or money, that would be enough for a full criminal case in Miami.” She pauses just long enough for her words to land before adding, “And also with what Xavier and Alessandro uncovered about the married sports directors involved... this is going to blow up. Publicly. Are you ready for that? They are on standby, waiting for our

Liam stood nearby, silent, unreadable. "Come," Ella said softly, guiding me to the couch. "I'm sorry. Was I shouting too much?" I tried to smile, to ease her guilt. But it came out twisted, hollow. "It wasn't your shouting," I said, my voice weak. "It was the glass. When it shattered, it... brought something back." "Oh, dear." Her hand closed gently over mine, trying to steady the tremble. "Here," Liam said quietly, offering me a glass of water. I stared at him for a moment, surprised. Then I took it. The cold water slid down my throat and seemed to calm the storm in me, at least for now.

It was a notification from her bank. Transaction Alert: $800,000,000.00 Debited. Underneath it, a second notification appeared. It was a photo from her home security system. It showed Grant and Evelyn standing on the sidewalk outside Thorne Manor, surrounded by trash bags. Evelyn was crying, and Grant was staring at the front door as if he expected it to open. Elena swiped the notification away. She felt nothing. No pity. No regret. Just a cold, empty space where her heart used to be.

The photo was taken during Anna’s first date with Havoc; the only one left after he asked his secretary to burn every picture of her. “Where did you get that?” he asked through a message. She can see the burning fire in his eyes. Why? Is he that mad at Sunny or there's a deeper reason behind it. “I borrowed it from Klode in the meantime. He’s the detective in charge of your case.” “Burn that to hell!” “I can’t. This is an item of evidence.” “Burn it!” Sunny saw how his lips moved but no sound came out from them. The more she makes him angry, the more he becomes stubborn.

A simple target putting everyone on edge. Every police and FBI mafia connection reporting that the authorities had nothing on the shooter and that they were just as clueless as they were. There were no shell casings found on any of the possible roof tops that they suspected the assassin to have possibly been on. Nothing with any traces of DNA was found, nothing whatsoever. Only possible theories with absolutely no foundation. An international case which would soon see the inside of a cold case box in a station's evidence storage room. As well as an open and unclaimed maffia bounty on a very publically dead Romanov family member.

“You let us all grieve a lie. You let Mom suffer in silence for years.” “She was a threat to this family,” he snapped suddenly, voice hard. “She wanted to take me down. You don’t know what she’s capable of—” “Don’t you dare twist this.” I stepped back. “I’m done protecting you.” But just as I turned to leave— My phone buzzed. Headline: > BREAKING: Cold Case Reopened – The Murder of Luna Jones. I froze. Oh God. How did the media find out? I hadn’t spoken to anyone.

She'd been assured that he'd be fine, but she couldn't think of anything else until he'd opened his eyes hours later and squeezed her hand. She'd had two cracked ribs from being thrown against the saddle racks, but she hadn't noticed the pain until the doctor pointed out the ribs on the x-ray. She'd also had two of Slater's teeth removed from the back of her scalp. While they were both still in the hospital, there had been extensive interviews with both local law enforcement and the FBI. Beth and Alicia had come to see them, and Beth had headed up the Federal investigation. Then there had been the Boulder police who'd come to tie up what had been their most pressing cold case in years.

The river’s black water rippled under the moonlight as the small boat cut through the night. Alina’s hands were still trembling from the events at the warehouse. The flash drive—the one piece of evidence she had fought to protect—was destroyed. Every painstaking effort, every piece of proof, reduced to nothing.