The Investigator Novels & Stories

And then my phone rang. Private line. No ID. Just a number I had saved without a name. I stood from my desk. “Give me a minute,” I told Kaia, brushing her shoulder as I walked past. She nodded sleepily. I stepped into the hallway and answered. “Blaze speaking.” The voice was low, precise. The investigator. “Mr. Black,” he said. “We’ve found something. Something you’re going to want to see.” I straightened. “Go on.”

I didn’t look back until we were safely inside the car. That night, after I tucked her in and waited until sleep took her again, my phone rang. The investigator’s voice was grim. “Whoever you’re dealing with isn’t an amateur. He tried to cover his tracks. But he was no match for me.” I closed my eyes briefly. “Good,” “A name came up. Malcolm Rex.” The line went dead, that was all I needed. I stood there in the dark, listening to Nyla’s steady breathing from the bedroom.

They gravitated toward safety but was she really safety or just pretending to be? The knock at the door cut through my thoughts. I straightened instantly. “Come in.” The investigator stepped inside, closing the door behind him with care. He was a thin man with restless eyes, dressed too neatly for the way he kept shifting his weight. A briefcase hung from his hand like it weighed more than it should. “You’re late,” I said coolly. “Traffic,” he replied, avoiding my gaze. “And… complications.” That word set something alight inside me.

If what the investigator found could finally shed light on what happened that night, then I would fix this misunderstanding before it gets too late. I clasped my hands behind my back, staring down at the streets below while waiting for them to arrive. A few minutes later, I heard a gentle knock on my door and told them to come in. The door opened quietly, and two pairs of footsteps echoed briefly before one faded away. My assistant had done as instructed. The only person left standing in front of me was the investigator. I gestured toward the couch, and he nodded, settling down across from me. I joined him, crossing my legs as I

Me (reply): “Then start looking. I’ll have another investigator in your place by 9 PM if you can’t move tonight.” I hit “send” before I could second-guess the threat. Seconds later, the investigator’s reply appeared: Investigator: “Understood. We’ll depart at 4:00 AM sharp. ETA at the bakery service door: 6:30 AM. No mistakes.” I leaned back, my breath coming out in a slow exhale. Dawn wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. I tapped one last message: Me: “Good. Confirm when you’re five minutes out. And remember: no witnesses, no errors. You’ll have liability if I hear otherwise.”

My heart pounded like a drum as I swallowed dryly and reached for the folder on the table. However, the investigator pressed it down before I could grab it. "What's the meaning of this?" I asked glumly. The private investigator, a middle-aged man, lounged casually on my couch as he puffed on a cigarette. His sharp gaze behind thick glasses glinted, carrying an unsettling hint of voyeuristic curiosity. "No need to rush, Mr. Zehm. This is your report," he said. "But I have a bad habit—I'm overly curious. So, I'd like to ask you a few questions first."

Beside him was the federal investigator assigned to the case, a man in his early forties with sharp eyes and the kind of calm that came from having seen too many lives unravel in rooms like this. A small black speaker sat in the middle of the table. Inside it lived seven years of buried fire. “Before we proceed,” the investigator said evenly, “I need to confirm that everyone understands the gravity of what we’re about to hear. Once this file is played, there is no reversing its implications.” Sarah nodded once. “Play it.” The investigator pressed a button. At first, there was static—faint, distant, like wind passing through brok

“They could have caught you if you were still there.” I peeked through the gap in the door, the two of them still hadn't entered Doctor Grace's study. “What are you doing?” “Looking at them, I wonder who came.” “Gosh, they can get suspicious if they're snooped around like that,” said Nina quickly. The footsteps of the two people slowly entered the room belonging to Doctor Grace. They are like an investigator who will continue the process of investigation. Usually, investigators will investigate unnatural deaths for several weeks until everything is not clearly revealed.

"The original routing trail doesn’t match the final one. There’s a clear chain of authorizations, approvals, overrides, and redirects. Someone with proper access inserted themselves into the process. They knew exactly how to shift the information without drawing attention." I stared at the paperwork, then asked the question I already feared the answer to. "Evelyn?" The investigator paused for a second, then shook his head. "No." Everything inside me seemed to freeze and not in dramatic shock, but in a quiet, disorienting pause. I had spent days preparing myself for confirmation, not for more uncertainty. "If it wasn’t Evelyn," I said slowly, "then who?"

Hot Chapters

Three years, Three Billion dollars- His worst mistake Chapter 5Three years, Three Billion dollars- His worst mistake Chapter 4Three years, Three Billion dollars- His worst mistake Chapter 3

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