Finders Keepers (Bill Hodges Trilogy, #2)

by Stephen King

Rothstein must have looked at while he was writing—that had a certain novelistic roundness, didn’t it? Yes, and that was the great thing about novels: that roundness. The way things always balanced out in the end.

I need to apologize because I really wasn’t so different from Morris Bellamy.”

“That this didn’t start with you finding the trunk.” Hodges looks at it, black and scuffed, a relic with scratched fittings and a moldy top. “It started with the man who put it there. And when you feel like blaming yourself for how it went down, you might want to remember that thing Jimmy Gold keeps saying. Shit don’t mean shit.”

Never so good as what you don’t see.