An Elvis Cole and Joe Pike NovelBook - 2015
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The woman stood in the far corner of the dimly lit room, hiding in Shadows like a fish in gray water.
Charles steered her toward the front door like a shopping cart.
“… but I want to make sure you understand. Everything I told you is strictly off-limits.” “If I understood any better, it would be tattooed on my head.”
He planned the play and worked the plan. Always. Rules. … Making rules gave him order and following those rules gave him peace. His most important rule was one of the first he learned. Never leave a witness.
“Thanks for not shooting me. “ “Too much paperwork.”
“I wouldn’t know a rocket-propelled grenade if I sat on it and neither would Amy.”
Six minutes earlier, she would have walked in on me. Six minutes later, I would’ve driven away and missed he. Sometimes the Private Detection Gods smiled.
I didn’t like how the Dodge had waited to turn. He could have easily turned behind me, but he waited until another car was between us. Drivers in Los Angeles never waited. Other drivers ran over you.
“Military Working Dog?” “Marines. She was trained up dual-purpose. Explosives and patrol.” Johnson looked over Maggie as if he wanted to buy her, but didn’t have enough cash.
Each time she sniffed, scent molecules collected on bony plates in her nasal cavity. These molecules collected a few at a time until enough were gathered for Maggie to recognize. This didn’t take many. With more than two hundred million scent …
“Listen, so you know, just because some idiot sells this crap doesn’t mean it’s going to terrorists. All-American morons from grenades into paperweights, and RPGs into lamps.”
… and reminded himself of another rule: Control your fear, or your fear will make you stupid.
… cheetahs do best of all the big cats, with a kill ratio of nearly fifty percent. The deadliest four-legged African predator is not a bit cat. It cannot be outrun or outdistanced, its pursuit is relentless, and it captures its prey none out of every ten ..
Scott felt like Wile E. Coyote, as if he had run off a cliff into the air, in that terrible moment when he realized nothing was holding him up.
She stared into the cup as if she didn’t remember why it was empty.
“I’d like to keep going. IIlan? Can you tell me what the man looked like?” “I wouldn’t know what to say.” “Gared’s voice cracked liked a whip, “Did he have three arms? A goiter? Don’t be a twit!” … “…Smaller? A burly Adonis, or a spindly pear?... Suburban means what? … Boring. A straight, white, conservative, middle aged male.”
Cole might be one of those people who colored outside the lines, but people who hung it over the edge weren’t always wrong.
Juanito couldn’t afford shoes, let alone a house.
The Los Aneles River flowed southeast across the bottom of the San Fernando Valley to Griffith Park, where it made a hard right turn past Dodger Stadium, Chinatown, and Downtown L.A. to the Long Beach Freeway like a fated lover anxious to find her mate.
She paused her movie as if I had asked for a kidney.
Scott’s mouth felt dry as an East L.A. sidewalk at noon.
“Why? (Deputy Chief)” “Because a sonofabitch was trying to kill me and my dog. (Waters)”
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