The phone call came in at noon, waking Ballard from another deep trench of sleep. The hotel room was dark with the blackout drapes drawn closed. The screen of her phone glowed. It was a number she didn’t recognize, but at least it wasn’t blocked.
She took the call, her voice cracking when she said hello.
“Ballard, it’s Bosch. You asleep?”
“What do you think? What number is this?”
“It’s a landline. I haven’t replaced my cell yet.”
“Oh.”
“You had to work last night? Even though you spent the day saving my ass?”
“I wasn’t on the clock when I did that, Harry. Where are you? Still at Olive View?”
“No, got released this morning. Six stitches, two cracked ribs, and otherwise a clean bill of health. I’m at San Fernando PD.”
“Did they pick up Tranquillo yet?”
“Not yet, but they think they got him surrounded. SIS is sitting on a house in Panorama City where they think he’s holed up. Belongs to his aunt—the one that was married to Uncle Murda. They’re in deep cover, waiting for him to make a move, and then they’ll scoop him up.”
The SIS was the LAPD’s elite surveillance squad that was called in to shadow violent offenders. They carried high-powered weapons and engaged in military-style follow maneuvers. Ballard also knew that SIS tactics had been questioned for decades by the media and law enforcement critics from across the country. Many of their surveillance jobs ended in deadly shoot-outs. The SIS kill count topped all other divisions and units in the department.
“Okay,” Ballard said. “Let’s hope they do.”
“So, what’s on the schedule for today?” Bosch asked, changing the subject.
“Technically, I’m off, but my partner’s not back till Monday and I could use the OT. I was going to work. But my number-one priority is to get up and go see my dog. She probably hates me by now.”
“You have a dog?”
“Yup.”
“Nice. So you see the dog, then what? Where are we on the shake cards?”
It didn’t sound to Ballard like Bosch was a dog person.
“I’ve gone through the finalists and you are welcome to back-read me on them if you want,” she said. “I cleared about twenty and prioritized the rest. I have an appointment at four today with one of the men at the top of the list.”
“An appointment?” Bosch asked. “What do you mean?”
Ballard told him about the shake cards involving the officer who happened upon a porno shoot in a van. She said the two priority names were Kurt Pascal and Wilson Gayley.
“I know somebody in the business,” she added. “She set up a casting meeting with Pascal. He was the one having sex in the van. I’m going to—”
“Where’s the meet?” Bosch asked.
“Canoga Park. She has her own studio. I met her last year on—”
“You shouldn’t go on your own. I’ll go too.”
“You have Tranquillo Cortez to worry about.”
“No, I don’t. I’m just sitting here waiting. But my car’s still at my house. Can you pick me up on the way?”
“Sure. Give me a couple hours to go see my dog.”
“Anything on the GRASP files?”
“Yeah, I picked them up yesterday before the shit hit the fan with you. The professor gave me a thumb drive. I printed hard copies for you before I left work this morning.”
“Good. Did you take a look?”
“Not a deep dive. I did see there was a murder two days before Daisy. But the suspect was in custody before Daisy disappeared.”
“We should probably look at it anyway.”
“I ordered the book last night. Before heading up to you, I’ll see if it’s landed.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Good.”
“And Renée?”
“Yes?”
“You saved my life yesterday. When I was in that cage…all I could think about was my daughter and her being alone…and all the things I was going to miss being with her for…anyway, thank you. It’s not much but…yeah, thank you.”
Ballard nodded.
“You know what I was thinking about, Harry? I was thinking about all the cases that would never get solved if you were gone. You still have work to do.”
“I guess. Maybe.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Ballard disconnected and rolled off the bed. She started getting ready to go see her dog.