How To Identify Key Reading Paragraphs In Mystery Novels?

I quit and dipped. City threw a parade. Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it. At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen: "I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!" I laughed. Cold. Not happening. Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind. People started saying I was washed. So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself. She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out. Boom. She's the city's golden girl. I'm the clown with no game. Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag. Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.

There are three things Samara Culkin loves: her father, wearing high heels, and being a detective. But in a world where being a female officer is considered weak, she struggles to find a place where she feels truly belong. Determined to prove The Detective Tag firm that she is worth it, she sets out to solve one of the biggest cases the city of Los Angeles has ever seen. There are three things Clayton Jones likes: his car, detective skills, and the female detective who happens to catch his eye—Samara. As an expert and well-known crime officer, he is given the chance to work with her; a one-time possibility that rarely happens. The only problem is that she hates him. And he does not know why. The Detective Tag is a crime fiction with a twist of romance. Join Samara and Clayton—all the bitterness, dislikes, and romance in between—as they dive into the world of crime cases and murder investigations. Well, maybe a bit of finding love, too.

Murder Inquiry is a crime fiction, whose plot is about Edwin Wolfgang, a rich New York based banker, who gives out loans for which he accepts artworks as collateral, but kills his customers before they are able to pay back the loan. And a FBI agent attached to the New York field office, who's charged with the task of bringing Mr Wolfgang to book. The story is set in three cities, in three different continents, and is full of twists and turns from the killing of Wolfgang's last two victims, up to his eventual arrest.

With the sudden death of his sister, detective Dawson Wills was going to give everything to find her killer, he wanted to do it alone. To find and make the killer pay for causing him so much pain, but unfortunately, life doesn’t always give you what you desire. Dawson was giving a partner, one of the things he disliked as a detective. Jane Johnson was Dawson's dream woman, how would Dawson maneuver his way from falling in love with this beautiful woman who was now his partner and finding his sister’s killer? He dislikes having partners, but detective Jane was too beautiful to be disliked….

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."

The bread knife stuck in Jon doe’s chest had an unusual pattern, I grabbed a camera from the nearest person and clicked a few pictures of the design “Email them to me.” I said as I was handing the camera back to them. It looked ancient and rare, not the usual bread knifes you’d find at our local stores here in Seattle. I looked up to find a detective watching my every move, it seemed that his one side of the face looked sunken in, similarly you only see this in people who don’t have teeth, which prompted me to look into his mouth, to find that all of his teeth had been pulled out. I sighed loudly and said “well, here goes our identification route of checking dental records, this body was left in the hopes that no identification will be made!” Craning my neck to have a look at the coroner who had just arrived on scene, I recalled working with her once before on another case when I first started as a rookie, Dr Leslie Adams is an expert in her field and one of the most professional and efficient woman. She looked down at me, and stated “Detective Rush you do know that the body you are looking at has been dead for more than 3 days, and also looks as if it was stored in a body freezer before being planted at this scene” I shook my head and realised that this is getting more intense by the second, “I hadn’t realised so Doc, that’s the reason we have you here, to help me solve the mystery “- I said whilst walking up to her, I held out my hand and gave her hand a firm handshake.