Desert Star (Renée Ballard, #5; Harry Bosch Universe, #36) (53)

“Oh, right.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just … work. I had to go by the lab this morning and I was going to write up some reports and check on a few things. Let me go get a coffee and then we can talk IGG. I’ll get you out of here so you can enjoy your weekend.”

“Uh, okay. I’d probably have more information by Monday but now is good. How was the lab? Good news?”

“No, not good news. That’s why I’m hoping IGG is going to come through.”

“What about Harry? Is he coming back?”

“Actually, he is. I talked to him and he sees the light. Everything’s fine now.”

“Good. I like Harry. He’s a good soul.”

“Yeah. I’ll be back. Set up what you want to show me.”

Ballard left her backpack on the floor next to her chair and went to the break room. No coffee had been made, which was good. It gave her a legit reason to stay away from Hatteras and the pod. She started brewing a pot and then pulled out her phone to text Bosch.

Hang back, Harry. Colleen is in the office. I’ll try to get rid of her. I’ll text you when it’s clear.



Once the glass pot was filled, Ballard poured herself a cup and returned to the pod. Colleen had already pulled a second desk chair over to her station so Ballard could sit next to her and view her screen.

“Give me another minute,” Ballard said. “I have to write a quick email.”

Ballard pulled her laptop out of her backpack and opened it on her desk. She then composed a bait email to Hastings that she hoped would lead to an in-person meeting.

Nelson, something’s come up. I know it’s Saturday but I found records from JP’s first campaign and there is something we need to talk about. Any chance you can come to Ahmanson or meet me somewhere away from City Hall? Let me know.

RB



She read the email over and realized the reference to City Hall revealed that she knew he was working there on a Saturday. She edited it out and then sent it to Hastings. She then grabbed a notebook and a pen to take over to the IGG briefing with Hatteras. But before she could even get up from her chair, she received a cell phone call from Hastings.

“Detective Ballard, what are we talking about here?” he asked.

“Uh, I don’t want to discuss it on the phone,” Ballard said. “Can we meet today?”

“I’m at work today. You’ll need to come downtown.”

“No, I don’t want to be in City Hall for this. There may be others around and I don’t—”

“I understand. I can leave the office at two. You know the Grand Central Market on Broadway?”

“Sure. I can meet you there.”

“There’s a G&B Coffee right at the Hill Street side entrance. Meet me there at two fifteen.”

“Okay.”

“You’re sure we can’t discuss this on the phone right now?”

“I’d rather not. You’ll understand why.”

“Okay, then. See you at two fifteen at G&B.”

He disconnected. Ballard sat for a moment, feeling the rising pressure of having three hours to come up with a story that would not make Hastings suspicious of the need for a face-to-face meeting.

“Are you ready?” Hatteras said from the other side of the partition.

“Coming,” Ballard said as she got up from her station.

She walked around to the next cubicle and sat down next to Hatteras, who had her laptop connected to a 28-inch LG screen. This allowed her to work on a large digital canvas when looking at DNA family trees and toggling through the color-coded graphics of a person’s chromosomes and estimated geographic ancestry.

“You seem tense,” Hatteras said.

“Don’t try to read me, Colleen,” Ballard replied, bristling. “I’m not in the mood. Just tell me what you’ve got.”

Hatteras nodded and looked hurt.

“Fine,” she said. “So, we have previously discussed the IGG basics, right? Centimorgans, shared matches, most recent common ancestors—all of the things we use to find potential ancestors to our sample DNA?”

“Yes, I remember all of that. But I’m not a geneticist or a genealogist, so please just keep this simple and tell me whether you’re narrowing in on any potential relatives for our suspect.”

“Well, we’re getting closer. I can say that.”

For the next twenty minutes, Hatteras went through her IGG findings and what they could mean. The DNA profile obtained from the palm print found on the windowsill in Sarah Pearlman’s bedroom had been uploaded to GEDmatch’s database. GEDmatch then generated comparisons with hundreds of thousands of other users’ raw autosomal DNA data files, which had been uploaded to various consumer genealogy platforms such as 23andMe, AncestryDNA, and more.

So far, there were four hits to users who shared at least some DNA with the man who had left his partial palm print on the sill.

“That means we’re now up to four possible leads to our suspect,” Hatteras said. “The next move would normally be to start building a family tree around one or all of them to see how they might be related to him. But here’s where we got lucky. One of these people has already started a family tree and it’s available to us. It also seems to include the other three people whose matches came up. When you start to build a family tree, you can either keep it private or put it out there for other users who may be looking for you to see. This one is public—at the moment.”