Suspect Quotes

“Talk to her, goddamnit. She ain't a stick of furniture. She is one of God's creatures, and she will hear you. I see these goddamned people walkin' dogs, yakking on their phones, makes me wanna kick their sissy asses. What they got a dog for, they want to talk on their phones? That dog there will understand you, Officer James. She will understand what's in your heart. Am I just shouting at the grass and dog shit out here, or are you reading what I am telling you?”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“A dog could see your heart in your eyes, Budress told him, and dogs were drawn to our hearts.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“These dogs are not machines, Goddammit. They are alive! They are living, feeling, warm-blooded creatures of God, and they will love you with all their hearts! They will love you when your wives and husbands sneak behind your backs. They will love you when your ungrateful misbegotten children piss on your graves! They will see and witness your greatest shame, and will not judge you! These dogs will be the truest and best partners you can ever hope to have, and they will give their lives for you. And all they ask, all they want or need, all it costs YOU to get ALL of that, is a simple word of kindness. Goddammit to hell, the ten best men I know aren’t worth the worst dog here, and neither are any of you, and I am Dominick Goddamned Leland, and I am never wrong!”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“The best dog training was based on the reward system. You did not punish a dog for doing wrong, you rewarded the dog for doing right. The dog did something you wanted, you reinforced the behavior with a reward - pet'm, tell'm they're a good dog, let'm play with a toy. The standard reward for a K-9 working dog was a hard plastic ball with a hole drilled through it where Leland liked to smear a little peanut butter.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Scott walked away and did not look back. They knew Maggie would try to follow him, and she did. In her world, they were a pack, and the pack stayed together.

Maggie whined and barked, and he heard her claws scrape the tarmac like files. Budress had cautioned him not to look back or wave bye-bye or any of the silly things people did. Dogs weren't people. Eye contact would make her struggle harder to reach him. A dog could see your heart in your eyes, Budress told him, and dogs were drawn to our hearts.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“That dog is a Marine!”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“These dogs are not machines, goddamnit. They are alive! They are living, feeling, warm-blooded creatures of God, and they will love you with all their hearts! They will love you when your wives and husbands sneak behind your backs. They will love you when your ungrateful misbegotten children piss on your graves! They will see and witness your greatest shame, and will not judge you! These dogs will be the truest and best partners you can ever hope to have, and they will give their lives for you. And all they ask, all they want or need, all it costs YOU to get ALL of that, is a simple word of kindness.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“The best dog training was based on the reward system. You did not punish a dog for doing wrong, you rewarded the dog for doing right. The dog did something you wanted, you reinforced the behavior with a reward—pet’m, tell’m they’re a good dog, let’m play with a toy.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Maggie’s long German shepherd nose had more than two hundred twenty-five million scent receptors. This was as many as a beagle, forty-five times more than the man, and was bettered only by a few of her hound cousins. A full eighth of her brain was devoted to her nose, giving her a sense of smell ten thousand times better than the sleeping man’s, and more sensitive than any scientific device. If taught the smell of a particular man’s urine, she could recognize and identify that same smell if only a single drop were diluted in a full-sized swimming pool.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Pete was relaxed around them, so Maggie tolerated them, but only when Pete was near.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“The Malinois breed bit so hard and well, and showed such bite commitment, they were jokingly called Maligators.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Long strokes. Start at her neck and run your hand back to her tail. They like the long strokes. That’s the way her mama did it.” James stroked her, long and slow, but he glared at Leland instead of relating to the dog. This set Leland off into one of his tirades. “Talk to her, goddamnit. She ain’t a stick of furniture. She is one of God’s creatures, and she will hear you. I see these goddamned people walkin’ dogs, yakking on their phones, makes me wanna kick their sissy asses. What they got a dog for, they want to talk on their phones? That dog there will understand you, Officer James. She will understand what’s in your heart. Am I just shouting at the grass and dog shit out here, or are you reading what I am telling you?” “I’m reading you, Sergeant.” Leland”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Maggie swung her head from side to side, checking the high scents first, then dipped her head to taste the smells close to the ground. The humans behind her might be able to identify five or six distinct smells if they concentrated, but Maggie’s long shepherd’s nose gave her an olfactory picture of the world no human could comprehend: She smelled the dust beneath her feet and the goats that had been herded along the road a few hours earlier and the two young male goatherds who led them. Maggie smelled the infection that one of the goats carried, and knew that two of the female goats were in heat. She smelled Pete’s fresh new sweat and the older sweat dried into his gear, his breath, the perfumed letter he kept in his trousers, and the green ball hidden beneath his flak. She smelled the CLP he used to clean his rifle, and the residual gunpowder that clung to his weapon like a fine dust of death. She smelled the small grove of palms not far from the road, and the trace scents of the wild dogs that had slept beneath the palms during the night and defecated and urinated before moving on. Maggie hated the wild dogs. She spent a moment testing the air to see if they were still in the area, decided they were gone, then ignored their scent and concentrated on searching for the scents Pete wanted her to find. Smells”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Tell him I will continue to pretend I have not seen that dog limp. Please tell him. He will understand.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“These dogs are not machines, goddamnit. They are alive! They are living, feeling, warm-blooded creatures of God, and they will love you with all their hearts! They will love you when your wives and husbands sneak behind your backs. They will love you when your ungrateful misbegotten children piss on your graves! They will see and witness your greatest shame, and will not judge you! These dogs will be the truest and best partners you can ever hope to have, and they will give their lives for you. And all they ask, all they want or need, all it costs YOU to get ALL of that, is a simple word of kindness. Goddamnit to hell, the ten best men I know aren’t worth the worst dog here, and neither are any of you, and”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“As you know, here in the city of Los Angeles, we train our beautiful animals to hold a suspect in place by barking. Heaven help us she bites some shitbird unless he’s trying to kill you, coz our spaghetti-spined, unworthy city council is only too willing to pay liability blackmail to any shyster lawyer who oozes out a shitbirds ass….”
“Your military patrol dog, however, is taught to hit her target like a run-away truck, and will take his un-American ass down like a bat out of hell on steroids. You put your military dog on a shitbird, she’ll rip him a new asshole, and eat his liver when it slides out. Dogs like our Maggie here are trained to mean business.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“I did not tell the police my true reason for being there. I did not mention Amy Breslyn. Not yet, not then, but everything might have been different if I had. Meryl Lawrence had told me little about Amy Breslyn, but now those facts seemed to have a new and dangerous meaning. I promised Meryl Lawrence to keep Amy’s secrets mine, so I kept them. And many, I still keep. We passed the black Suburban with its silent, flashing lights. The people on the sidewalk were gripped by the sight of it like mice entranced by a snake. I was gripped, too. The words on the Suburban explained why we were being evacuated. BOMB SQUAD.         To”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“The Los Angeles Police Department was surrounding their neighborhood like a gathering thunderstorm. A”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“I fingered through Amy Breslyn’s file and skimmed her corporate bio by the hazy glow of the street light. Her corporate portrait showed a round woman with light brown hair, pale skin, a soft face, and the sad eyes of someone who lost her only child for reasons no sane person could understand. If she wore makeup, I could not see it. She was as anonymous as a blur in a crowd except for the fact this particular blur possessed a Ph.D. in chemical engineering from UCLA. I tucked her picture into my pocket. When”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Humor. I am my own best audience. Meryl”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Maggie reached the door well before Scott, and saw another door ahead. The intruder and another man were waiting beyond it. Ten thousand generations filled her with a guardian’s rage. Scott was hers to care for, and hers to keep. She”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Maggie reached the door well before Scott, and saw another door ahead. The intruder and another man were waiting beyond it. Ten thousand generations filled her with a guardian’s rage. Scott”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“We have to look at the people who opened the case, and see how they’re tied with the I-Man. Melon gave me a hint. He told me the I-Man never does anything alone, and only with people he trusts. He wasn’t implying they’re honest.” “What”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Familiar was good. Unfamiliar was bad. A soft scuffing came from beyond the old female’s crate. Maggie instantly lifted her head, and cocked her ears toward the sound. She recognized human footsteps, and understood two people were coming up the drive. Maggie hurried to the French doors and pushed her nose under the curtain. She heard a twig snap, brittle leaves being crushed, and the scuffing grow louder. Tree rats stopped moving to hide in their stillness. Maggie walked quickly to the side of the curtains, stuck her head under, and sampled more air. The footsteps stopped. She cocked her head, listening. She sniffed. She heard the soft metal-to-metal clack of the gate latch, caught their scent, and recognized the intruders. The strangers who had entered their crate had returned. Maggie erupted in a thunder of barking. She lunged against the glass, the fur on her back bristling from her tail to her shoulders. Crate in danger. Pack threatened. Her fury was a warning. She would drive off or kill whatever threatened her pack. She heard them running. “Maggie! Mags!” Scott came off the couch behind her, but she paid him no mind. She drove them harder, warning them. “What are you barking at?” The scuffing faded. Car doors slammed. An engine grew softer until it was gone. Scott pushed aside the curtains, and joined her. The threat was gone. Crate safe. Pack safe. Alpha safe. Her job was done. “Is someone out there?” Maggie gazed up at Scott with love and joy. She folded her ears and wagged her tail. She knew he was seeking danger in the darkness, but would find nothing. Maggie”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Scott ejected the disc. The Club Red disc was by far the superior, which left Scott wondering what the missing disc showed. He dug out Melon’s interview with Richard Levin to make sure he had it right, and reread the handwritten note: R. Levin—deliv sec vid—2 discs— EV # H6218B Scott decided to phone Cowly. “Joyce? Hey, it’s Scott James. Hope you don’t mind. I have a question about these discs.” “Sure. What’s up?” “I was wondering why you gave me only one of the Club Red discs and not both.” Cowly was silent for a moment. “I gave you two discs.” “Yeah, you did. One from Tyler’s and one from Club Red, but there are supposed to be two from Club Red. Melon has a note here saying two discs were logged.” Cowly was silent some more. “I don’t know what to tell you. There was only the one disc from Club Red. We have the LAX stuff, the disc from Tyler’s, and the disc from Club Red.” “Melon’s note says there were two.” “I hear you. Those things were screened, you know? All we got was a confirmation of arrival and departure times. Nobody saw anything unusual.” “Why is it missing?” She sounded exasperated. “Shit happens. Things get lost, misplaced, people take stuff and forget they have it. I’ll check, okay? These things happen, Scott. Is there anything else?” “No. Thanks.” Scott felt miserable. He hung up, put away the discs, and stretched out on the couch. Maggie came over, sniffed for a spot, and lay down beside the couch. He rested his hand on her back. “You’re the only good part of this.” Thump thump.”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Scott found two discs when he opened the envelope, one labeled Tyler’s, the other Club Red. Something about the number of discs bothered him, and then he recalled Melon had logged two discs from Club Red. He wondered why Cowly gave him only one of the Club Red discs, but decided it didn’t matter. Scott”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Scott was feeling a little better. “Whatever you say.” “I say. And if the DNA matches Daryl to the band, we have something to chase, which is all thanks to you.” The”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“If a future judge excluded the watchband, he or she might also exclude all downstream evidence derived from the band. The downstream evidence was called “fruits of the poisonous tree,” under the principle that evidence derived from bad evidence was also bad. If investigators knew they had a piece of bad fruit, they tried to find a path around the bad fruit by using unrelated evidence to reach the same result. This was called a work-around. Mills”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“Mills paced to the door, but didn’t leave, as if he had needed motion to contain himself. “I”
― Robert Crais, Suspect

“nostrils flickered and twitched. Her breathing pattern changed when she sniffed for a scent. Sniffing wasn’t breathing. The air she drew for sniffing did not enter her lungs. Sniffs were small sips she took in groups called trains. A train could be from three to seven sniffs, and Maggie always sniffed in threes. Sniff-sniff-sniff, pause, sniff-sniff-sniff. Budress’ dog, Obi, sniffed in trains of five. Always five. No one knew why, but each dog was different. Scott”
― Robert Crais, Suspect