The Late Show (Renée Ballard #1)(90)

With time to kill, Ballard got her car out of the pay lot and drove over to County-USC. She found that Ramona was no longer in the acute-care ward. She had been upgraded to fair condition, and with that came a change of rooms. She was now sharing a room with another patient. She was conscious and alert. The swelling around her eyes was way down and the bruising had moved to the yellow-green stage. The stitches had been removed from her lower lip as well. Ballard entered the room and smiled at her, but there didn’t seem to be any recognition.

“Ramona, I’m Detective Ballard. I’m assigned to your case. I came by on Monday. Do you remember?”

“Not really.”

The voice was unmistakably male.

“I showed you photos? To see if one was of the man who hurt you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. In fact, it doesn’t really matter now. That’s why I came by. To tell you that the man who hurt you is dead. So you don’t have to be afraid or worry about him anymore. He’s gone.”

“You’re sure it was him?”

“Very sure, Ramona.”

“Okay.”

She looked down as though she might be about to cry at the news. Ballard knew Ramona was safe now, but only from one predator. She was leading a life that was sure to bring more. Ballard pulled one of the cards she got from Towson out of her pocket and held it up.

“I wanted to give you this. This is a lawyer I’ve worked with, and I think he’s pretty good.”

“Why do I need a lawyer? What do they say I did?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. I’m not supposed to give out legal advice, but if I was, I would tell you that you should sue the estate of the man who did this to you. I am pretty sure he had a large amount of money invested in his house. I think you should get a lawyer and go after some of that money. He victimized you, and you should collect from his estate before anybody else does.”

“Okay.”

But Ramona did not reach out for the business card. Ballard put it down on the table next to her bed.

“It’s right there when you need it.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“I’m going to leave my own card too. Later on, you will probably have questions. You can give me a call.”

“Okay.”

It was an awkward exit, because with the case concluded by Trent’s death, there was no need for Ballard to spend more time with Ramona. As she left the hospital, Ballard wondered if she would ever see her again. Perhaps, she thought, she had suggested the lawsuit against Trent’s estate because she knew she would be called in to testify about the case.

She wondered if it was a subconscious move to seek the kind of fulfillment that came from taking a case from beginning to end. Trent was dead but Ballard might still be able to take him to trial and get a guilty verdict.





33

Ballard sat in an office with Dr. Carmen Hinojos, the director of the Behavioral Science Unit. The room was decorated in blond wood, cream-colored walls, and pale curtains. The window looked across the roofs of Chinatown toward the spire of City Hall. They sat facing each other in comfortably cushioned chairs that contradicted the uncomfortable situation for Ballard.

“Have you ever killed anyone before?” Hinojos asked.

“No,” Ballard said. “First time.”

“How are you feeling about it today?”

“To be honest, I feel fine about it. If I hadn’t killed him, he would have killed me. I have no doubt.”

She immediately regretted starting her answer with “to be honest.” Usually when people said that, they were being anything but honest.

The session continued down avenues of questioning Ballard had fully expected. As with almost every situation an officer faced regarding internal investigations and procedures, she was well versed in what would be asked and how it should best be answered. The union newsletters carried case examples all the time that were analyzed in depth. Ballard knew that the important thing to say and project with Hinojos was that there was no second-guessing of her actions up to and including the killing of Trent. Showing regret or remorse would be wrong moves. The department needed to be assured that if returned to duty, she would not have any hesitation in doing her job, that she would not hesitate if placed in a kill-or-be-killed situation.

Ballard was calm and forthright during the interview and showed discomfort only when Hinojos veered away from questions about the Trent killing to asking about her childhood and the path she took to law enforcement.

Ballard began to feel like she was trapped. She had to reveal herself to a stranger or risk that her return to duty would be delayed by further analysis or treatment. Ballard didn’t want that. She didn’t want to ride the pine. She tried to put a positive spin on things in terms of the good things she had learned from bad experiences. But even she knew that finding the positive in things like her father’s untimely death, her mother’s abandonment of her as a teenager, and the year she spent homeless was a difficult task.

“Maui has the prettiest beaches in the world,” Ballard said at one point. “I surfed every morning before going to school.”

“Yes, but you had no home to go to and a mother who didn’t care,” Hinojos said. “No one should face that at that age.”

“It wasn’t that long. Tutu came for me.”