Hard-ass Palm Beach County judge Bob Isom Gibbs enjoys sending even petty offenders away to do hard time -- which has made the list of miscreants who want him dead longer than a fully grown Florida gator's tail. And a good number of his illwishers are probation officer Kathy Baker's clients, including young Dale Crowe and his psycho uncle Elvin. Now, Kathy's got an even more daunting task than keeping BIG's horny hands off her: keeping "Maximum Bob" alive. Because Gibbs's many enemies seem to be willing to go to any lengths -- be it death by amphibian or some more tried-and-true method -- to permanently end the career of an oversexed, racist jurist who's more interested in scoring than in saving his own red neck.
“Dazzling dialogue . . . A great read.” Bergen Record “Brilliant . . . It bristles with Leonard’s unquestioned skills: his deft way with words, his cut-to-the-chase understanding of how people act, think, and talk.” Detroit Free Press “Maximum Bob is maximum Dutch.” New York Times Book Review “Leonard fans will be delighted.” St. Louis Post-Dispatch “Tense and disquieting . . . Another wonderful book from Leonard . . . A cast of bad guys as colorful and convincing as any he
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topless through a garden to your heart’s content, while my semi-estranged wife is at a seminar in Ohio.” What a picture it turned out to be: this big redheaded nymph, his Nature Girl, ducking through the laurel oak and cabbage palms, not a stitch on, her buddy the judge waiting with a Jim Beam in each hand. Simple pleasures were the best kind. Fond memories to store away—while you work on a new set. Kathy Baker was a different type of girl, more virginal even though she’d been married. He hadn’t
“Call me at the Omar Road office, make an appointment.” He was smiling again. “I’m glad we got a chance to meet.” “You don’t remember the other time?” Look at his face. He had no idea what she meant. “Last August in Riviera Beach, by the projects. You were driving that unmarked Dodge everybody knows is a cop car. I’m walking along . . .” He was smiling now. “You pull over and stop me, want to know if I’m looking for crack or already bought some. You ask to see my ID . . .” Now he was
everything.” “No, I need you to tell me.” “Why? There’s nothing you can do.” “How do you know that? Please, sit down with me. I can be your friend if you want.” “I don’t think so.” “Will you tell me one thing? Why the doctor lets Elvin use his car and gives him a key to the front door.” Hector was staring at her now. “Talk to me,” Kathy said, “and I won’t look for dope. I imagine Earlene brought a few rocks Sunday night, but they’re gone, uh? Listen, I won’t look for guns either.” Hector