Dark Sacred Night (Harry Bosch Universe #31)(73)

Satisfied that the house and grounds below were clear, Ballard folded her arms and leaned down on the railing as she tried to decide what to do. She was convinced something had happened to Bosch. She checked her watch. It was now ten o’clock and she knew the detective bureau at Hollywood Station would be in full swing. She pulled her phone and called her boss, Lieutenant McAdam, on his direct line.

“L-T, it’s Ballard.”

“Ballard. I was just looking for the overnight log and couldn’t find it.”

“I didn’t write one. It was a slow night. No calls.”

“Well, that’s one in a million. Then what’s up?”

“You remember I put on the overnight earlier this week that I’m working the cold case with the girl who got snatched nine years ago?”

“Yes. Daisy something, right?”

“Right, yeah. And I was working it with Harry Bosch.”

“Without my permission, but yeah, I know Bosch was in on it.”

“He had the watch commander’s permission. Anyway, here’s the thing. Bosch was supposed to come in this morning and go through old shake cards with me and he didn’t show.”

“Okay.”

“Then we had an appointment with a guy at USC and Bosch didn’t show for that either.”

“Did you call him?”

“I’ve been calling him all morning. No answer. I’m now at his house. The back door was open, there’s uneaten food from last night just sitting on the table, and it doesn’t look like his bed has been slept in.”

There was a long silence as McAdam considered everything Ballard had said. She thought he was on the same concerned wavelength as her, but when he finally spoke, it was clear that he wasn’t.

“Ballard, are you and Bosch…involved in some way beyond this case?”

“No. Are you kidding me? I think something happened to him. I’m not—He’s missing, Lieutenant. We need to do something. That’s why I’m calling. What should we do?”

“All right, settle down. My mistake, okay? Forget I said anything. So, when exactly was he supposed to show up on this thing?”

“There wasn’t an exact time. But he said he’d be in early. I was looking for him around four or five.”

Again, silence.

“Renée, we’re talking about six hours at the most here.”

“I know but there’s something wrong. His dinner’s sitting on the table. His car’s here but he isn’t.”

“It’s still too soon. We have to see how it plays out.”

“Plays out? What are you talking about? He was one of us. LAPD. We need to put out a bulletin, get it on RACR at least.”

RACR, pronounced racer, was an internal text alert system through which messages could be sent to the phones of thousands of officers at once.

“No, it’s too soon,” McAdam said. “Let’s see what happens over the next few hours. Text me the address and I’ll send a car up there after lunch. You’re done for the day.”

“What?” Ballard said.

There was exasperation in her voice. McAdam wasn’t seeing what she was seeing, didn’t know what she knew. He was handling this wrong.

“You’re done, Renée. I’ll send a car up later to check on Bosch. We’ve got to give this at least twelve hours. I’ll call you later when we know more. It’s probably nothing.”

Ballard disconnected without acknowledging McAdam’s order. She was afraid that if she said anything further it would be in a high-pitched voice that was near hysterical.

She kept her phone out and looked up the number for the San Fernando Police Department. She made the call and asked to be transferred to the detective bureau. A woman answered but identified herself too quickly for Ballard to pick up the name.

“Is Harry Bosch there?”

“No, he’s not. Can someone else help you?”

“This is Detective Ballard with the LAPD. Can I speak to his partner, please? This is urgent.”

“We don’t have partners here. It’s interchangeable. We—”

“I need to talk to whoever he was working with last—on the gang murder where the witness was killed.”

There was a pause before there was a response.

“That was me. How do you know about that case?”

“What was your name again?”

“Detective Lourdes. How do you—”

“Listen to me. I think something’s happened to Harry. I’m at his house now and he’s not here and it looks…it looks like he might have been taken.”

“Taken?”

“We were supposed to meet early this morning. He didn’t show. His phone’s turned off and he’s not here. He’s got uneaten food on the table from last night, the bed is still made, and his back door was open.”

“Okay, okay, you need to listen to me now. We got intel yesterday that the SanFers had put a hit out on Harry because they know he was building a case against one of their OGs. Today we were working on it. But last night I warned Harry. I told him. So, is there any chance that he just went into hiding?”

A sharp pressure started building in Ballard’s chest. It was dread.

“I—No, that’s not what it looks like here. His keys are on the table. And his car’s here.”