Desert Star (Renée Ballard, #5; Harry Bosch Universe, #36) (23)

“Looking at the mug shots. I’m guessing meth,” Ballard said.

“Yeah,” Bosch said, pointing at the screen. “All the arrests came after the break-in. Maybe if I was still working the case back then, I would have picked up on it.”

“But you weren’t. You were retired. So don’t beat yourself up about it. Maybe it leads to something now.”

“Maybe.”

But Bosch still felt like he had somehow dropped the ball and let the Gallagher family down. If he had stuck with the case instead of retiring, he would have seen that the burglary and McShane were not linked and there was another reason for his prints to be on the glass paperweight.

As if reading his thoughts, Ballard tried to give Bosch further absolution.

“Just remember,” she said. “Sheila Walsh didn’t see it for what it was and called the police. So you’re not alone.”

“She’s a mother,” Bosch said. “I’m a cop. Was a cop.”

“I’m telling you not to—”

“Can you just send that report to me? Including mug shots.”

“Harry, come on. This is exactly why we review cases. To see with new eyes. To see what was not seen before. So take the win here. You have a whole new angle to work.”

“Will you send it to me?”

“Yes, I’m sending. But don’t go running off on this. I need you on Pearlman and Wilson. I mean it.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have my take on the crime scene and forensics by the end of the day.”

Bosch went back to his station to await her email. Once he had the NCIC report pulled up on his screen, he sent it to the printer. He noted that Boatman’s last arrest was two years before. He might have cleaned up since then and kept himself right—with the law, at least. The fact that he reportedly had a job as a greenskeeper was a strong indication of recovery.

He looked at the booking photos that were part of the package and committed Boatman’s face to memory. He then googled an address for the Sand Canyon Country Club and entered it in his phone’s GPS app.

Bosch closed his laptop and got up to go to the printer and then his car.

“Harry, are you leaving?” Ballard asked as he crossed behind her.

“Printer,” Bosch said. “Then I’m going to take a drive.”

“A drive? Where?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

He could feel Ballard staring at him as he kept going.

While buckling up in the Cherokee a few minutes later, he got a text from Ballard. She was upset.

You undercut my authority when you walk away like that. Please don’t do it again.



Bosch felt both contrite and annoyed. He was trying to solve the murder of a family, and to him that took precedence over everything else in the world. He texted her back but restrained himself from saying anything that would inflame the situation any further.

Sorry about that. You know how I get on a case. Won’t happen again.



He waited to see if there was a reply. When there wasn’t, he started the car and headed for the parking lot exit.

A few minutes later, Bosch was on the northbound 405 in moderate midmorning traffic. The freeway was elevated here and he had a good view of the towers of Century City coming up on his right and the Santa Monica Mountains dead ahead. His GPS app told him it was going to be fifty-eight minutes before he arrived at the Sand Canyon Country Club. He turned KJazz on the radio and caught the Shelly Berg Trio’s take on “Blackbird,” the old Beatles song.

He turned it up. It was good driving music.





13


BALLARD TOLD HERSELF not to be annoyed with Bosch. She knew that putting him on a team did not make him a team player. That was not in his DNA. She got up and went to his workstation. The package from the Wilson case that she had put together for him was sitting on the desk. He had said she’d have his review by the end of the day, but not if he did not have the records with him to review. She picked up the stack and went back to her station. She would do the work on it if Bosch wouldn’t.

In the breakout of team assignments on the case, Ballard had given herself the digital media associated with Laura Wilson. Data from the victim’s laptop and cell phone had been downloaded by the original investigators onto thumb drives that were slipped into the pocket on the inside cover of the murder book. Ballard had gone through the material on each drive earlier and had planned for a deeper dive. But she decided to put that digital work aside and to first review the materials she had given Bosch.

Since she had already studied the forensic reports and crime scene photos at length after connecting the Wilson and Pearlman cases, she decided to approach this new review differently. Whether in person at a crime scene or when looking at photos, the investigator always focuses on the center—the body. These photos were as horrible to look at as those of Sarah Pearlman. A young woman’s body violated in many ways. A still life of stolen hopes and dreams. Ballard decided to put these aside and work her way from the outside in.

The crime scene photographer had been thorough and had taken dozens of “environmental” shots depicting the victim’s entire home—inside and out—at the time of the murder. These included shots of the contents of closets and cabinets and drawers and of photos framed and hung on the walls. All of this allowed the case investigators ready access to the entire environment of the killing location. It also allowed them to better understand the victim by seeing how she had set up her home. It gave them an idea of the things that were important to her in life.