“Because if she had to be off-track and a little lost, then she was going to have fun while she was at it, dammit.”

“It was sometime in October; she had long ago lost track of all the days and it really didn’t matter because one was like another and there were no nights to separate them because she never slept any more.”

“She had been sharing a house with him for a week, and he had not once flirted with her. He had worked with her, asked her opinion, slapped her on the knuckles figuratively speaking when she was on the wrong track, and acknowledged that she was right when she corrected him. Dammit, he had treated her like a human being.”

“Fuck. This was bad. It had happened, hadn't it? The thing she thought would never happen, the thing she was always so careful not to have happen. She'd lost count, she'd lost track of what exactly she'd taken, and it had happened.”

“And it's just a hunt?" Bea asked. "Just tracking the guy down, or are we going to have to do a little covering up of our own?" Had she just told me she was willing to kill someone and cover it up? She gave me a happy smile, but that glint in her eyes told me that, yes, she'd just offered to off someone.”

“But with a sigh he had released her hand, while she was so lost in the fantasy that she hadn't felt it go away, as if he'd known the best moment to let go.”