Book Name: The Bone Collector
Writer: Jeffery Deaver
The plane had contacted down two hours late and there’d been a long-
distance race sits tight for the gear. And afterward, the car service had
wrecked; the limo’d left an hour back. So now they were hanging tight for a
cab. She remained in the line of travelers, her fit body listing against the
heaviness of her PC. John shook on about loan costs and better approaches
for rebuilding the debut everything she could believe was: Friday night,
10:30. I wanna pull my sweats and hit the hay. Gazing at the unending
stream of Yellow Cabs. Something about the shading and the similitude of
the vehicles reminded her of creepy crawlies. Also, she shuddered with the
dreadful little animal feelings he recalled from her youth in the mountains
when she and her brother discover a gut-slaughtered badger or kick over
an area-insect home and look at the wet mass of wriggling bodies legs.
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