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“Chris is the one who Liam made cry,” Donna explains. Chris laughs. “I didn’t cry!” “I’m sorry. Chris is the one whose eyes became moist after dealing with Liam.”
“You know, when I walked in this place and someone said my partner was Detective Paige and at least ten heads whipped around to look at me, I was a little bit worried. Someone even gave me a blessing when I was at the urinal. It was the most awkward thing I’ve ever done with my pants down.” “You must not have done much with your pants down if that was the most awkward,” I say. “You’re young. You’ll definitely have more opportunities.”
“I can’t wait for you to solve this in ten minutes while I’m off still trying to get my protective gear on like last time,” he says. “You could dress up as a cheerleader, cheer me on.” “Ah yes. So glad I have such an important purpose in these cases.” “What do you mean? I love praise.”
“She must have been scared.” “Of what? Her own inability to find happiness?” I ask.
I raise an eyebrow at this ridiculous display. “You’re a monster.” Liam looks up at me and grins. “I’m your monster.” “Oh joy,” I say dryly as I loosen my grip on his hair, but I don’t let go.
“What if I lightly kill him?” he asks. “You can’t lightly kill someone.” “Sure you can. Like… I’m going to lightly stab him… oh shit… oh no… he’s stopped breathing. I will lightly try to resuscitate him. And then I will lightly guide him into this unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere.”
I’m thinking it’s that mousy-looking guy who gives me the impression of a man trying to shit out a football every time you talk to him.” “Do you ever feel like that’s a you thing and not a him thing?” “There are a lot of footballs being shat when I talk to people, you’re right. Might be a skill of mine.
I really like helping people.” “There are a lot of jobs you could do that would help people. You could have been an underwear model. That would help a lot of people understand that they’re not as attractive as their filters make them think they are.”
“You are so strange.” “On a scale of one to ten, how sexy is ‘strange’?”
“You might as well stay here again tonight, so it’d be best to leave your car here.” “I don’t know what I’m doing tonight.” I take his head in my hands and direct it to the window where Lucy Fur is sitting in her little window perch pawing at the window. “Look into her eyes and tell your child you’re not coming home tonight. You tell her you’re going out for milk, and five years from now she’ll wonder if you ever found that milk, and question if maybe it wasn’t the milk all along but her that was the problem.”
“Your cat is probably going to shit in my car,” Liam decides. “She might.” “You’d probably still tell her she did a good job and kiss her.”
