More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Cole McCade
Read between
July 4 - August 1, 2020
right down to the old trench of a scar starting high on his temple and snaking in a jagged line through one severe brow, skipping over his eye, picking up at the cragged line of his cheekbone to leave an indelible mark on tanned, rugged skin.
He would likely get in the way of wrapping up this investigation, but he was interesting nonetheless.
Something about the crime scene felt oddly familiar, yet he couldn’t quite explain why. Not in a way that made sense. Not in a way he wanted to think about. He was probably seeing things that
He should really stop psychologically profiling the people he worked with.
A partnership would require us being partners,” he said. “When I don’t want to work with you. You don’t want to work with me, either. That’s not hard to figure out. But I’ve got a stake in this case, and so do you.
“Mizrahim,”
it wouldn’t be hard to break down crying in front of the cops because you were guilty and afraid, but pass it off as grief and loss. Wasn’t he a fucking cynic.
Maybe next time I’ll tell you my name.
They stared at each other for long moments—as if there was no struggling murderer between them, as if a crying boy wasn’t tied to a chair next to a cart where a horror of undeath sat mounted like a strange display figurine.
LGBTQIA+