Quotes from Robert Crais

Tyson's mother worked as an office manager for a law firm in Encino. She appeared neat, trim, and ready for work when she opened the door, but carried herself with so much tension she might have been wrapped with duct tape.

I looked at the picture, and Tyson looked back. Dave was speaking, but his voice was lost. I thought about Devon. She would have questions I couldn't answer. She would need help I wasn't sure I could give.

A shopping bag from a local hobby store contained kits for making buzzers and doorbells. Jugs of liquid resin and rolls of plastic food wrap sat beside the bag, and a mini-loaf baking pan was wedged between the jugs. Plastic sewing kits were stacked next to X-Acto knives, and so many arts and crafts supplies Amy could open a hobby shop. The

When the doors opened, Bud led them into a reception area where an older woman with curly blond hair sat at a desk. She recognized Bud and waved them past. "He's back there somewhere. If he's not in his office, just ask. They're having some kind of problem." Cole nudged Pike and whispered, "Already? We just arrived.

We went through an unmarked door and along a sterile tile corridor and through another unmarked door and then we were in the Blue Corridor and then the Blue Room.

You're a strange dude, Cole. Not as strange as Pike, but strange." Scott slid into his car, and drove away. I looked at Pike. "Are we strange?" Pike went to his Jeep without answering, and brought me back to my car.

Pike didn't know what he would find or if he would find anything, but the Malibu's back seat was filled with their duffels and sleeping bags. Pike checked to make sure no one was watching, then used a jiggler key to open the car. Pike

She gave me the serious goldfish face, then went back to staring at her dress.

She asked me why I always had something flip to say. I said that I didn't know, but having been blessed with the gift, I felt obliged to use it.

Video cams set up on a little platform at the rear of a place that might be called a grand ballroom if you thought small.

If a zombie appeared, Daniel planned to jump out the window after it and rip its putrid, unnatural flesh to pieces with his teeth. He was, after all, a werewolf, which was why he was such a good hunter and killer. Werewolves feared nothing. Daniel

There were dozens of boats and skiers on the water, the powerboats and jet skis buzzing like angry mutant wasps.

The two men shook hands, then the cowboy walked through the main gate to an anonymous Buick and drove away. Watching

Krista Morales had a heart-shaped face, golden skin, and a smile that dimpled her right cheek. Her eyes were deep chocolate, and her hair glistened with the deep black sheen of a crow's wing in the sun. I smiled at the picture, then handed it back. "Pretty.

We have to look at the people who opened the case, and see how they're tied with the I-Man. Melon gave me a hint. He told me the I-Man never does anything alone, and only with people he trusts. He wasn't implying they're honest." "What

Okay, listen. The ATF analyzed the bomb from my car. You know what taggants are?" "Detection markers." Taggants had been required in plastic explosives since the nineties. "The

Pike stepped into the first bay and spotted the man from the Monte Carlo in an office at the rear of the building. He was in front of a television with his back to the door. The Dodgers were playing a day game. Pike checked to see that the other two men were still struggling with the fender, then slipped toward the office as silently as a fish gliding through water. On

Pike didn't believe he would find anything, but he had to check, so he did, ignoring her. Pike had learned this with the Marines—the one time a man didn't clean his rifle, that's when it jammed; the one time you didn't tape down a buckle or secure your gear, the noise it made got you killed.

I glanced at the address. "He lives in Palm Springs?" "Somewhere in L.A., I think. His family has the house in Palm Springs, or it might belong to a friend, but I don't really know. Krista hasn't told me much about him." Old story. The less Krista told her, the less she could criticize. I put the address aside. "Okay.

You'll notice," Pike said, "that the only people in here who look like thugs are me and you." "You, maybe. I look like Don Johnson. You look like Fred Flintstone.

For the longest time, Mimi Warren did not move, then she looked at me and said, "I don't feel anything." I said, "Kid, you've had so much done to you that the part that feels went dead a long time ago." Maybe Carol Hillegas could fix it. Mimi cocked her head the way a bird will, as if I'd said something curious, and smiled. "Is that what you think?

Pike was focused on Dru. She had thrown on shorts and a faded T-shirt in her rush to the shop, and now her hair was mussed and her feet were smudged with green. Pike thought the smart eyes seemed worried this morning, but he couldn't stop looking at her—as if she were a book he wanted to read. "You

I looked at her, and thought that she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. "Can I shoot him later?" She smiled again, and this time patted my hand. "We'll see." Something to live for.

I need you and Dennis on the house. Two men, twenties to thirties, dark hair straight and on the long side, five-eight to five-ten. The shorter guy is probably Latino." "They at your place now?" "No, but they'll be back. They made keys." "Ah. You want'm field dressed?" "Just let me know.