Quotes from James Preller

Bigs jabbed a finger into my chest. Ping. It felt like an aluminum baseball bat. "I paid you," he said. "Now I want my Velma back." "Easy on the chest, will you, Bigs? I store my heart in there.

The minute Bigs hired you, I knew you'd make trouble." "I'm a detective," I replied. "Trouble is my business.

I'm a detective. I ask questions until I like the answers.

A giggle, huh. I guess they think this is a joke," I said. "Well, I'm not laughing.

I called Kim's house the moment I got home. "I've got your necklace, I told her. Kim was thrilled. Mila, on the other hand, was not. She didn't understand why I didn't return to Kim's house. Now I have to walk home alone, Mila complained. No! Don't, I warned her. Call your father. Get a ride. But do not—I repeat, DO NOT—walk home alone. It's too dangerous.

Earl Bartholomew is a teenager . Believe me, you just can't trust teenagers. Besides, I added, I think Earl's a little strange. He's taken too many ramps without a helmet.

Mila punched me in the arm. Don't get goofy on me, Jigsaw! Ghosts are not real. And they don't write books! I'll say this for Mila. She's got a pretty good right hand. My arm ached for the rest of the day.

I suddenly felt tired of listening to my own voice.

Fair is fair, Buzzy—and you're foul by a mile. You tried to pull a fast one with that phony scarecrow. But you messed with the wrong guy. Now the trick's on you. It's time to hit the road. Yeah, Kim said. Just dry up and blow away.

When the store emptied, Frank gasped. "Goodness! You kids have to stop eating! If you're not careful, you're going to turn into grown-ups. We don't want that, do we?

You'll wait right here?" I asked Frank. He nodded. "If you hear any screams . . ." "I'll come running," he said. "Don't worry, Jigsaw. I'll be right here. Trust me .

Good night, boys, he called kindly. Sweet dreams. Yeah. Sure. Sweet dreams. Sour nightmares was more like it.

We told them about Stringbean's missing tent poles. Mr. Jordan knelt down in front of Stringbean. "Don't worry, Greenbean. We'll find a place for you to sleep." Jasper mumbled, "It's Stringbean, sir." Mr. Jordan looked confused. He couldn't understand Stringbean's mumble-jumble. "String cheese?" he asked. "Do you want a piece of string cheese?" "Never mind," Stringbean said.

There I sat and waited. Alone in the dark. Because that's what detectives do. We sit. We watch. And we wait. Sooner or later something happens. It always does.

I sometimes daydream about becoming somebody else. Anybody else. Not me. I imagine how I might lose myself, my old self.

Lately I've been falling asleep with my headphones on, the music paving over my thoughts.

Some days I hate everyone. But no one more than I hate myself.