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“How many boats are we talking about out there?” Bosch asked.
“There’s a lot. My buddy didn’t know which boat this guy was supposedly working.”
“Okay.”
“And if I were you, I’d go now. This part of town is going to start filling up for sunset. Traffic will be a bitch and you’ll never get out of here.”
Bosch lifted his glass and took the first and last sip from it. The bourbon was sweet on his tongue but fire in his throat. He realized he probably should have ordered something that would have gone down easier, like a port or a cabernet.
“Thanks for your help, Tommy,” he said. “Semper fi.”
“Semper fi,” Tommy said, apparently accepting the Marine salutation from a non-Marine. “Those tunnels, man … What a fucked-up place.”
Bosch nodded.
“What a fucked-up world,” he said.
“It’s an angry world,” Tommy said. “People do things you’d never expect.”
Bosch took two of the fifties off the bar top and put them in his pocket. He slid the other two back toward Tommy.
“Finish off the Blanton’s for me,” he said.
“Glad to,” Tommy said.
On his way out, Bosch held the door for a couple in shorts, sandals, and Hawaiian shirts on their way in.
49
BALLARD WAS LEANING against her car in front of Bosch’s house, thinking about the last conversation they’d had. Bosch had said he was going to do the follow-up interview with Sheila Walsh about the Gallagher case. He had hoped she would trade protecting her son for revealing what she knew about Finbar McShane. Ballard decided that if she didn’t find Bosch by the end of the day, then she would locate Sheila Walsh and pay her a visit as well.
Maddie Bosch’s car came around the bend and she pulled into the empty carport. Ballard met her at the front door.
“I knocked,” Ballard said. “No answer.”
“Then I hope he’s not in there,” Maddie said.
“Why don’t you let me do a quick circuit before you come in?”
“I’m a big girl, Renée.”
“Just wanted to make the offer.”
“I get it. Thank you.”
Maddie took a set of keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door. Without hesitation, she pushed it open and entered ahead of Ballard.
“Dad?”
There was no answer. Ballard stepped into the living room and looked around to see if anything seemed out of place. She checked Bosch’s stereo and saw that the record on the turntable was the King Curtis album he had been playing when she picked him up the week before. She guessed that his joining the cold case squad had fully consumed him to the point where he hadn’t had time to listen his music.
“Dad, you here?”
Nothing.
“I’ll check the back,” Maddie said.
She disappeared down the hallway while Ballard went into the kitchen to check the sink and trash can for any signs of life. Both were clean and empty. Ballard went back to the living room and stepped into the dining room, where two neat stacks of documents sat on the table. She moved around behind it and leaned over to read what Bosch was last working on here. She could hear Maddie’s steps on the wood floor and knew she was continuing to move about—a sign that her father was not back there.
