Crime, when stripped to its skeleton, is often about subtraction—what's been taken, what's gone missing, what doesn't make sense. But sometimes, it's what's left behind that screams the truth.

This story began with a headline: Two bodies found. Three bullets fired. It should have ended there. But the math never added up—and I've learned, in my years studying crime, that when the numbers don't fit, someone is hiding something.

Three Bullets, Two Bodies, One Lie is a story of fractured loyalty, deliberate misdirection, and the kind of deception that poisons everything it touches. You're not just reading a crime novel—you're entering a web where the truth has been rewritten, erased, and buried in plain sight.

This book was written for readers who love puzzles, gray morality, and a darkness that lingers even after the final page.

May you never trust a crime scene again.