Quotes from John Sandford

Sherlock Holmes and that whole Holmes thing—that once you've eliminated the impossible, then whatever remains, must be the truth. What Holmes never admitted was that there is a vast universe of the possible, and sorting through all the possibilities is often impossible.

cheap Mossberg that had seen better days, the barrel hot enough to iron with.

How many people have figured out that if you lie enough, and loud enough, people will start to believe?

Would you trust a bomb to a company called 'Oops'?

dealing with a . . . peculiarity. A week after

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her. "From what you've told us, the killer

blood pumping from his neck like water from a hose.

I'm pretty delicate, Lucas admitted. You know, when I'm not beating someone senseless.

that morning, and a half

Taking a little undertime today?

The woman had thick plastic glasses and looked up at them, eyes large as eggs behind the lenses, and asked, "Jeez, who got murdered?

GREER WAS STANDING OVER Cole Purdy's body when Lucas and the guard got to them and Greer was looking shaky and Lucas looked down at Purdy, who was lying on his back, gray eyes open to the hot sun, but already gone dull and blank. Blood spotted the front of his T-shirt, which was pulled tight over his chest: Greer had shot him six times, all the shots in the space of two hands, including two through Purdy's heart.

He was also virulently pro-life, and Weather was strongly pro-choice.

asked the local media not to mention it, but

Don't get your honey where you get your money

Like Ward Cleaver finding out that June had

Holland's mom would get pissed. She owns Mom's Cafe." "She sure doesn't need the competition," Virgil said. "I ate the worst cheeseburger of my life there about five minutes ago." Skinner winced, and said, "I wouldn't wander too far from a toilet. They got three cooks there; we call them Hepatitis A, B, and C. That burger's gonna hit the bottom of the bucket in one piece, if you know what I mean.

Lucas glanced at him and said, with a grin, "Bell is sometimes too social . . . if you know what I mean." "He talks too much," Robertson said. "But he's a good guy," Lucas said. "Yeah, he is," Robertson said. He leaned back in the seat and put his feet up on the dash, caught himself and said, "Whoops. Sorry about that.

either lived in, or recently had lived

Is your security going after the threat? Or is the security static?" Lucas asked.

it. A message was written in purple ink:

be somebody dead . . . maybe

About a billion cops," Darling said. "You move there, you'll have fifty government workers looking at you, checking your tax records, asking where you moved there from, where you work now, how long you've been there. California is like a Nazi state with palm trees—'Papers, please.' Seriously, I've looked into all of this." "Ah