Bee 🐝 Bees

“The usual stuff. School, homework, I don’t remember everything.” Theo had watched enough trials to know that answers should often be kept vague, and that “I don’t recall” and “I don’t remember” were perfectly acceptable in many instances. “Did you chat online?” the detective asked. “No, sir, not last night. Just phone.” They often used Facebook and text messages, but Theo knew not to volunteer information. Just answer the question in front of you. He’d heard his mother say this to her clients many times. “Any sign of a break-in?” Mr. Boone asked. “None,” said Bolick. “Mrs. Finnemore was sound asleep in the downstairs bedroom, she heard nothing, and at some point she got up to check on April. That’s when she realized she was gone.” Theo looked at Mrs. Finnemore, who again shot him a fierce look. He knew the truth, and she knew he knew the truth. Trouble was, Theo couldn’t tell the truth because he’d made a promise to April.”
― John Grisham, Theodore Boone: The Abduction

“Gertrude’s was an old diner on Main Street, six blocks west of the courthouse and three blocks south of the police station. It claimed to serve pecan waffles that were famous around the world, but Theo had often doubted this. Did people in Japan and Greece really know about Gertrude and her waffles? He wasn’t so sure. He had friends at school who’d never heard of Gertrude’s right there in Strattenburg. A few miles west of town, on the main highway, there was an ancient log cabin with a gas pump out front and a large sign advertising DUDLEY’S WORLD-FAMOUS MINT FUDGE. When Theo was younger, he naturally had assumed that everybody in town not only craved the mint fudge but talked about it nonstop. How else could it achieve the status of being world famous? Then one day in class the discussion took an odd turn and found its way to the topic of imports and exports.”
― John Grisham, Theodore Boone: The Abduction

“The abduction of April Finnemore took place in the dead of night, sometime between 9:15 p.m., when she last spoke with Theo Boone, and 3:30 a.m., when her mother entered her bedroom and realized she was gone. The abduction appeared to have been rushed; whoever took April did not allow her to gather her things. Her laptop was left behind. Though her bedroom was fairly neat, there was some clothing strewn about, which made it difficult to determine if she had been able to pack. Probably not, the police thought. Her toothbrush was still by the sink. Her backpack was by her bed. Her pajamas were on the floor, so she at least had been allowed to change. Her mother, when she wasn’t crying or ranting, told the police that her daughter’s favorite blue-and-white sweater was not in the closet. And April’s favorite sneakers were gone, too.”
― John Grisham, Theodore Boone: The Abduction

“He picked up a lightly varnished violin and held it up to the light. “This one has had the first ground layer applied. See, I’ll share a secret with you—one I learned from a master craftsman in Vermont.” She came closer at his urging. “The secret is in the ground coat of varnish. It must be mixed with minerals, such as silica and alumina. And then the subsequent coats of walnut and linseed oil must be sun-thickened.” He pointed to a row of glass jars filled with amber oils lining the windowsill.”
― Charlene Whitman, Colorado Dream