The Dark Hours (Harry Bosch #23)(96)

“Good. Put a toothbrush and anything you might need for an overnight stay in the reusable bag. But don’t take a lot. You don’t want it to stand out.”

“Well, I’ll need my computer. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Okay, your computer is fine. Make it look like you are carrying more bags inside the one you’re carrying.”

“Got it.”

“And what about a mask? What color do you have?”

“Black.”

“Black is good. Wear that.”

Ballard knew she would have to wear her LAPD mask inside out.

“Okay, one other thing, Hannah.”

Ballard looked down at what she was wearing. Because she had come straight from Acton, she was casually dressed, in jeans and a white oxford borrowed from Single.

“Do you have a pair of jeans and white blouse you can wear?” she asked.

“Uh, I have jeans,” Stovall said. “I know everybody has a white blouse. But not me.”

Ballard looked over her shoulder to the back seat, where she had various jackets and other clothing.

“How about a hoodie?” she asked. “You have a red or gray hoodie?”

“Yeah, gray,” Stovall said. “I have it right here. Why are you asking about my clothes?”

“Because I’m going to take your place. Wear the gray hoodie when you come to Starbucks.”

“Okay.”

“What’s the length and color of your hair?”

“Jesus. I have short brown hair.”

“Do you have any hats you can wear?”

“I’ve got a Dodgers cap.”

“Perfect. Wear that, and text or call me on this number before you leave. That way I’ll be ready.”

“I’ll text.”

They disconnected. Ballard was concerned that Hannah might do something that would stand out to anyone who had her under surveillance. But it was too late to worry about it now.

It was now time to call in backup. Ballard felt too alienated from her own department to go inside for help. She was already working without a net and probably providing more fodder for the upcoming Board of Rights hearing. Taking stock of her situation, she noted that her boss was the one trying to fire her, while her partner on the Midnight Men case had been anything but a partner. Lisa Moore had proven herself to be unreliable, lazy, and vindictive.

There was no doubt in Ballard’s mind who she needed to call.

He answered immediately.

“Okay, Harry,” Ballard said. “Now’s when I need you.”





41


The text from Hannah Stovall came in twenty minutes later. Ballard sent her back a thumbs-up and then waited with her eyes on the sideview mirror. A few minutes went by before she saw the silver Audi emerge from North Citrus Avenue and turn right on Melrose. Ballard checked the car as it went by and caught a glimpse of the driver wearing a blue Dodgers cap.

Ballard’s eyes went back to the sideview and she waited and watched. She let two minutes go by. No follow car emerged from Citrus. Ballard pulled out and gunned it down Melrose in an effort to catch up to the Audi, but a traffic signal at Cahuenga undid her. When she finally pulled into the parking lot at Pavilions she had to cruise down two aisles before spotting the Audi. She then caught a glimpse of a woman wearing a Dodgers cap entering the supermarket with a reusable shopping bag that looked weighted with belongings.

Ballard parked and quickly moved to the store’s entrance. Covid protocols dictated that one door was an entrance, and the exit was on the other side of the front facade. Ballard entered and found the Starbucks concession immediately inside the entrance. There was a line of four people, with the woman with the weighted shopping bag in last position. Ballard checked the others in line, saw nothing suspicious and joined.

“Hannah,” she whispered. “I’m Renée.”

Stovall turned to look at her, and Ballard discreetly flashed her badge and put it away.

“Okay, so now what?” Stovall said.

“Let’s get coffee,” Ballard said. “And talk.”

“What is there to talk about? You’ve scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry. But you will be completely safe now. Let’s wait till we’re sitting down to talk about the plan.”

Soon they were at a table off the side of the Starbucks counter.

“Okay, I have another investigator on his way,” Ballard said. “He’s going to take you to a hotel where you can check in and spend the night. He’ll be on guard the whole time. And hopefully this will all be over by morning.”

“Why did these men pick me? I’ve never hurt anyone.”

“We’ve tracked them through their patterns, but we don’t know all the answers yet. That just means we’ll find all of that out when we catch them. And thanks to you being vigilant in your neighborhood and noticing the streetlight, we are in our best position to do that now.”

“It was hard to miss. Like I said, it shines in my window at night.”

“Well, we got very lucky that you noticed it. So, while we’re waiting for my colleague, can I ask you about some of your routines?”

Ballard started going through the questions that were contained in the survey given to the other victims of the Midnight Men. She knew most of these by heart and didn’t need an actual copy of the questionnaire. Soon it became clear that Stovall was even more of an outlier than Cindy Carpenter up in the Dell. Though Stovall lived reasonably close to the first two victims, their worlds didn’t seem to intersect anywhere, other than favoring some of the same local restaurants. During the pandemic Stovall was working from home and rarely left the house except to shop for food. She didn’t even pick up food to go from restaurants, choosing instead to get home delivery. Home delivery had been a subject of interest early in the investigation because the first two victims used it from time to time. But the investigators learned they used different services, and a review of their transactions determined that they had never been served by the same driver.