Nothing overdone, nothing racy, which made her all the more alluring.
The good guys had to operate on a higher level than the killers--just for society to keep track of who was who.
Watching her, he saw again how she teetered between adolescence and adulthood, with a raw sensuality that had to deposit her in a kind of no-man's land--too much a woman for boys her own age, too young for fully adult men.
What was it about not knowing a person that allowed you to wonder whether she might be the answer to all your problems?
A jealous husband is an ugly thing.
The irrational thoughts were the ones with the power to burn holes in your gut.
Maybe the trying is the thing. Maybe it doesn't get better than that. Maybe you never quite get there. And maybe that's okay.
What about my rights? What about a person's privacy? Did all that just go to hell after 9/11?
The truth will set you free. Unless you're guilty.
Deep down, everyone wants the truth.
