Quotes About Secrecy

He closed the locker quickly so no one would see the damage. For some reason, he felt ashamed.

Walsh looked at Cole. "Both of you?" Pike said, "He's going to have people. It'll look better if I have people, too." Cole pointed at himself. "I'm his people." Pike went on with it. "He thinks we're meeting to pick up the money. The real reason is to give him this." Stone showed them a handheld GPS locator.

I asked people about you, and those people said if you were looking for a guy, then you probably found him. I just can't figure why you won't come clean." "Maybe they're wrong." He nodded. "Could be." "But maybe I just don't like being muscled, so I'm being petulant.

Don't tell her what I found here, okay? I want to tell her." "Whatever you want." "I have to go." Pike

where I keep my computer. I opened

She spoke in a fast rush. "Can't talk. Meet me in forty minutes. Say where." Forty minutes. Not half an hour or an hour. Forty. Like we were Ukrainian spies. We

Why did Colinski want the house?" "Who knows? A place to hide, cut dope, stash cash, party. Stupid, I said, how are you going to clean up, being involved with a man like this, but the Great Colinski had spoken." "Jacobi and Juan were both addicts. Did Juan trade drugs for the house?" "Yes! This was Colinski's brilliant idea." "Do

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

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.

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.

I put everything back into the envelope, then called my friend Eddie Ditko at the Examiner. Eddie has been a reporter for about ten million years, and he answered with a voice that was maybe three weeks away from throat cancer. "Ditko.

Pike unscrewed the interior light so it wouldn't come on, then left the car. It was full-on dark now, and Pike enjoyed the darkness. Darkness, rain, snow, a storm—anything that hid you was good. He circled the house to check the windows, then slipped back onto the porch and let himself in.

Scott told himself to be patient, but wondered what Cole knew. Cole's offer to help was like a worrisome terrier that wouldn't let go of his ankle. Cole might be one of those people who colored outside the lines, but people who hung it over the edge weren't always wrong. Cole might be able to use his secret knowledge and shady connections to break the case faster than Carter. Scott

Stone held up something that looked like the GPS locator he removed from Pike's Jeep. "Remember this?" Walsh reddened as Stone went on. "It's not yours. We canned the one you put on his Jeep. This one's mine. White-burst digital ceramic, no RF, will not show on airport scanners or wands. It's better than yours." The

We are a people who deny publicly that we are even partially in the Balkans, but we admit our Balkan identity privately, among ourselves.

There is too little mystery in the world; too many people say exactly what they feel or want.

The secret enemy, though, will react with anger. Any strong emotion and you will know that there's something boiling under the surface. Often the best way to get people to reveal themselves is to provoke tension and argument.

Mayer, still not content with the excess, next began operating a money exchange bureau in their yard. What's considered the very first Rothschild bank appeared to be a nine-square-foot hut-but things weren't quite what they appeared to be. Mayer installed a large iron chest that, when opened from the back, revealed a stairway leading to a secret storage cellar.

Your prowess in the bedchamber, my lord." His eyes widened. "How would they know what I'm doing in bed?

As she neared the gazebo, the unmistakable sounds of passion drifted from the interior. She halted as a woman let out a long, soft moan. Oh, Robby, we need to stop. We're missing the party. I canna wait another minute, he grumbled in a low voice. I need you now, Olivia. The woman let out another long moan that Caitlyn could only interpret as surrender. She tiptoed across the grass, headed in another direction. A feminine squeal emanated from the gazebo, followed by a masculine growl.

What's the deal with the secret Santa thing?" "If I told you, it wouldna be a secret.

It is the paradox of truly perceiving that the more you do the less effective you are, and the more you hide the more you show.

From that point on, I guess I sort of realized that my imagination, which made life tolerable, needed to be kept a secret from the rest of the world. But if you keep something hidden away, all tied up, it's hard to summon it when you really need it.

I guess some stories do not need telling.