84
" Cole was still working on the car when a dark green Lexus stopped across his drive. Cole straightened, and was surprised to see Pike and a young woman with ragged hair and big sunglasses get out. The girl looked wary, and Pike was wearing a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves down. Pike never wore long-sleeved shirts. Cole limped out to meet them. “Joseph. You should have told me we had guests. I would have cleaned up.” Cole smiled at the girl, spreading his hands to show off his gym shorts, bare feet, and wax on, wax off T-shirt. Mr. Personable, making a joke of his sweat-soaked appearance. “I’m Elvis. This is me, doing my Ralph Macchio impersonation.” The girl painted him with a smile that was smart and sharp, and jerked a thumb at Pike. “Thank God you have a personality. Riding around with him is like riding with a corpse.” “Only until you get to know him. Then you can’t shut him up.” Cole noticed how Pike touched her back without familiarity, moving her into the carport. Pike said, “Let’s go in.” Cole glanced at the Lexus, already sensing this wasn’t a social visit. "
― Robert Crais , The Watchman (Elvis Cole, #11; Joe Pike, #1)
85
" Harvey didn’t set his phone to beep or buzz or vibrate like a normal person. Harvey’s phone screeched with a string piece from the Hitchcock movie Psycho, the scene with Janet Leigh in the shower, the knife rising and falling, the string section shrieking with short, staccato stabs, the lone violin slashing through the fermata with discordant glissandos, more violins joining the first, violas adding their teeth, mad strings schooling like orchestral sharks at a blood-drunk feast. "
― Robert Crais , The Wanted (Elvis Cole, #17; Joe Pike, #6)
86
" Cole sensed Pike didn’t want to talk in front of the girl, so he gave her the smile again. “Why don’t you use the shower while I make something to eat?” Larkin glanced back at him, and Cole read a new vibe. She gave him the same crooked smile she had made in the drive, only now she was telling him he could say and do nothing that would surprise her, affect her, or impress her, here in his little house that wasn’t so bad. Like a challenge, Cole thought; or maybe a test. She said, “Why don’t I eat first? The Pikester won’t feed me. He only wants sex.” Cole said, “He’s like that with me, too, but we’ve learned to adjust.” Larkin blinked once, then burst out laughing. Cole said, “One point, me; zero, you. Take the shower or wait on the deck. Either way, we don’t want you around while we talk.” She chose the shower. "
― Robert Crais , The Watchman (Elvis Cole, #11; Joe Pike, #1)
88
" Nora wanted a house, so I bought a damn house, not her, me, and the next thing I know I’m in this toxic maelstrom, the three of them, every day, all the bullshit. I felt bad for those kids. Living with those three was hell, but I felt bad.” He paused, and the scowl deepened. “I tried to fix it. That’s a mistake we make, us guys, thinking we can fix this dysfunctional bullshit. Amber was a mess. Sad, but a mess. Jasmine, she was older. Maybe tougher, and smart. Smart enough to know living with her mother was toxic.” He called her Jasmine, not Jazzi. “Are you and Jasmine close?” He waved the slip. “Nah. I helped her find a place. Told her, I’ll pay the first six months. You don’t have to pay me back, but after that you’re on your own.” I nodded, watching the slip. “Generous.” “It was like throwing a life preserver. Someone’s drowning, how can you not?” He held "
― Robert Crais , The Wanted (Elvis Cole, #17; Joe Pike, #6)
99
" Larkin lay in the darkness, waking, then awake as she realized she had to pee. The house was dark, so she figured he was sleeping or just standing somewhere in that creepy way, so she went directly into the bathroom. She closed the door before she turned on the light. His clothes were hanging from the shower rod, but she didn’t think anything of it. She peed, then drank water from the tap, using her hand as a cup. When she finished, she turned out the light, opened the door, and that’s when she heard him. Soft, frantic grunts and a jerky, cloth-on-cloth swoosh came from the living room. She hesitated, listening as her eyes adjusted, then crept into the living room. He was asleep on the couch. His body was clenched; his arms rigid at his sides as he jerked and trembled. Even in the poor light, she saw the sweat on his face as his head snapped from side to side and the grunts hissed past his teeth. He was dreaming, she thought. Ohmigod. He was having a nightmare. She wondered if she should wake him. She couldn’t remember if you were supposed to wake people who were having a nightmare or not. Maybe waking him would be bad. "
― Robert Crais , The Watchman (Elvis Cole, #11; Joe Pike, #1)