Just calm down and think, sir. Think. Where is your wife?

Chase stooped to inspect it. Angelo handed him a latex glove, which took Chase three attempts to pull on before tearing it. He had never had a good relationship with latex. He tried two more, tearing each one of those too.

Chase rushed after her in pursuit. The woman lost one of her high-heeled shoes and Chase took advantage of her lack of balance to tackle her. They crashed to the ground.
“Why are you running from the ball, Cinderella?” he asked.

Quote taken from Chapter 1:

"Is Petey Samson a bloodhound for real?” Blue asked. “I could’ve sworn he’s a mixed breed, what my folks used to call a pound mutt.”

“Oh, brother,” Alma said. “I wished you hadn’t said that.”

“I’ll have you know Petey Samson is no pound mutt,” Isabel said, shaking her finger at Blue. “His best breeding lies in his bloodhound line,” she said.

“I didn’t know that,” Blue said.

“Pay no mind to Isabel,” Alma said. “She’s just being overprotective of her fur baby.

Death by misadventure sounds like a hopeful possibility.
--Marjorie Branell-Markson

The criminal is the creative artist; the detective only the critic.