Leverage in Death (In Death, #47)

by J.D. Robb

I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father’s protection. —Sigmund Freud

Not only had the nefarious Candy Thief snatched her chocolate, he/she had taken the time and trouble to replace it with the actual item on the freaking menu.

“The heart wants what it wants, sees what it needs to see.”

“I was going to say polka dots don’t change their spots, but sometimes they can. They do. You’re married to a cop, and I’m living in an urban castle.”

He stopped the car, leaned over to kiss her. “Polka dots are spots.” “Until they get smeared and blend together. Then they’re splotches.” “That’s both true and confusing,” he decided. “So we’ve smeared our spots into splotches for each other.

“Life was easier when all I had to do was think about murder.” “Well now, you changed your spots to splotches, didn’t you?” He kissed her again, then pulled out his ’link.