Regardless, he realized that his first impulse-to take off his jordan heels husband's hat and put on his detective's hat-had been a bad idea. In the wake of Oliver Robbins's phone-call, he had realized that he needed to take off both of his hats and put on one of hers. He would have to think like her, and riding the bus she had ridden was a way of starting to do that.
     　　He climbed up the bus steps with his overnight bag in his hand and stood by the driver's seat, looking down the aisle.
     　　'You want to move it, buddy?' a man asked from behind him.
     　　'You want to Chanel bags find out how getting your nose broken feels?' Norman replied without missing a beat. The guy behind him didn't have anything to say to that.
     　　He took a moment or two longer, deciding which seat
     　　he wanted, then made his way down the aisle to it. She wouldn't have gone all the way to the back of the bus; his fastidious Rose would never have taken a seat near the toilet cubicle unless all the other seats were full, and Norman's good friend Oliver Robbins (from whom he had bought his ticket, just as she had) had Ugg boots clearance assured him that the 11:05 was hardly ever full. Nor would she want to sit over the wheels (too bumpy) or too close to the front (too conspicuous). Nope, just about halfway down would suit her, and on the left side of the bus, because she was left-handed, and people who thought they were choosing at random were in many cases simply going in the direction of their dominant hands.
     　　In his years as a cop, Norman had come to believe that telepathy was perfectly possible, but it was hard work . . . impossible work, jordan heels if you were wearing the wrong hat. You had to find your way into the head of the person you were after like some kind of tiny burrowing animal, and you had to keep listening for something that wasn't a beat but a brainwave: not a thought, precisely, but a way of thinking. And when you finally had that, you could take a shortcut-you could go racing across the curve of your quarry's thoughts and some night, when he or she least expected it, there you'd be, stepping out from behind the door . . Chanel Bags . or lying under the bed with a knife in your hand, ready to ram it upward through the mattress the moment the springs squeaked and the poor sap (sapette, in this case) lay down.
     　　'When you least expect it,' Norman murmured as he sat in what he hoped had been her seat. He liked the sound of it and so he said it again as the bus backed out of its slot, ready to head west: 'When you least expect it.'