Random in Death (In Death, #58)

by J.D. Robb

“You’re going to work, aren’t you? Maybe buy a small country.” “Only a small one?” “It’s Sunday, so on the small side.”

In New York, the carelessly rich and the quietly desperate breathed the same air.

“What the hell is a dooser?” Eve demanded. “Oh, a cross between a dick and a loser.”

“This is why I don’t gamble. How do you know a sure thing from a sucker bet?” Simple, Eve thought. “They’re all sucker bets. Just ask Santiago’s cowboy hat.”

Eve stopped dead. “Nine hundred dollars? For a pan?” “A pot. A French pot.” “Does the price include going to France to buy it?”

BEWARE THE LAB RATS! THEY’RE SMARTER THAN YOU.

She walked over, put her arms around him, hugged hard and tight. “This is for stuff, and especially the spaghetti, because I’m not hugging Summerset.” “I’ll happily be his proxy. And I’ll remind you there’s pie.” “I might just let you, as proxy, get your hand on my tit for cherry pie. But later, both counts.”

He’s really a kid?” “Age doesn’t matter with monsters.”