The Investigator Novels & Stories

To my relief, the investigator answered within seconds. "Zerina Cortez. I want to know everything about her." I said to the investigator and then hung up the phone. Mom, I promise I won't put myself in danger.

"Rest assured, I will leave no stone unturned in my pursuit of the truth." Days turned into weeks as Estella awaited the investigator's findings. Impatience gnawed at her, yet she understood the significance of thoroughness in such delicate matters. Time passed in a haze of anticipation and restless nights, her mind consumed by endless possibilities and the weight of the unknown. Finally, the day arrived when the investigator summoned Estella back to his office. As she entered, she noticed a renewed vigor in his gaze, a spark of excitement that had not been there before. It was as if he had stumbled upon a breakthrough, a vital

“This is a restricted area. May I ask what your business here is?” Kamala gave him a polite nod. “Good morning, officer. My name is Kamala Reynolds. I’m a private investigator working on a case that I believe might be connected to the attempted robbery here last night. I was wondering if I could speak to the occupants of this house to gather some information.” The officer raised an eyebrow. “A private investigator? Do you have any identification on you?” Kamala nodded and reached into her bag, pulling out her investigation ID. She handed it to the officer, who studied it carefully, flipping it over and checking the details.

Right when he could no longer comprehend the situation, the investigator smirked. “Okay, now we’re going in, during this moment, I want you to pay close attention, we are about to reveal the identity of the man on this part.” He let the recording continued rolling and there was someone coming out from the lavatory. Adonis bore no reaction when he first saw the person coming out from the lavatory. However, without warning, the investigator stated,

“So what does that mean? That he’s going to lose? That he’s going to sit in a cell for something he didn’t do because it’s ‘almost impossible’ for you to move faster?” “I didn’t say he’s going to lose,” the investigator replied, still maddeningly steady. “I’m on it. I’m pulling at threads, chasing leads. But you have to understand, this isn’t a movie where the truth falls into place in a single night. It takes patience. If I rush, I’ll miss something crucial. And that won’t help him at all.”

“Understood, Mr. Damon.” I rubbed my jaw thoughtfully. “However, I do want to know if anything unusual happens regarding the project.” He immediately took note of my instruction. “I will make sure to prioritize that information.” I nodded once. “Thank you, that will be all.” The investigator gathered his folders neatly. Then he stood up and walked toward the door. Oh, Mia. My thoughts always returned to her. I looked toward the window beside my desk. The city lights were beginning to illuminate the darkening evening sky.

The investigator’s eyes were cold, scanning the room with the practiced efficiency of a man who spent his life pulling down the corrupt pillars of New York’s elite. "Nobody leave the premises," the investigator announced, his voice booming off the vaulted ceiling and instantly silencing the frantic whispers of the house staff. Evelyn Vane, recovering her mask of supreme aristocratic authority, took a sharp step forward. She looked down her nose at the lead investigator, her voice dripping with an icy, condescending venom. "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Do you have any idea whose estate you are invading? I am Evelyn Vane

I asked for the third time, looking around the waiting room as though she might suddenly materialize. "The investigator said she is already here," Poppy reminded me. "They are just waiting for you to arrive so they can do the test." As if on cue, a nurse appeared in the doorway. "Mrs. Whitmore?" I rushed over. "Yes. That is me." "If you will follow me, please." I glanced back at Poppy, who gave me an encouraging nod, then followed the nurse down a long hallway to a small examination room. The investigator stood outside, a middle-aged man with grey eyes and a professional demeanor I had come to trust over the months we had been w

Her gaze was still outside staring into the city, and her mind far away from where she stood, but there was a knock on the door, and the knock broke her out of her reverie. She turned, her eyes narrowing slightly as she walked over to answer it. “Who is it? How may I help you?” she asked, standing by the door. “It's Spider, boss.” The person replied from the other side. And unconsciously, a small smile broke out of her cold face as she thought about Spider. He was her personal Investigator, he had been so for the past years. He was skilled at what he does, tracing people and their actions and getting people to get rid of them and cleaning up his tracks.

Caleb POV The investigator called on a Thursday morning while I was in the kitchen watching Tom argue with his cereal. I expected a final billing summary. That was all that was left. The file was closed, the information was delivered. The investigator had done his job. There was no reason for another call. I stepped into the hallway and answered. "Everything alright?" "I need to correct something I told you," he said. I was quiet.