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“What? What are you doing here?”
“Like them, making sure you’re okay.”
“You flew across the country to make sure I was okay?”
“I think you wanted me to. The Sheila Walsh interview. The call to Maddie. You were leaving bread crumbs.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
Bosch stood up and looked around for his socks and shoes. They were on the floor by a chair in the corner. He walked over, sat down, and started putting them on.
“You found McShane, didn’t you?”
Bosch didn’t answer. He concentrated on the task of tying his shoelaces. He then stood up and pulled the curtain open. He squinted at the harsh sunlight reflecting like cut diamonds off the water and into his eyes.
“Where’s the note you left for me?” Ballard asked.
Bosch looked back at her. She was still standing by the door from the entry hall, like she didn’t want to come all the way into his room.
“What note?” he said.
“This wasn’t the first wellness check on you, Harry. They came in last night. You were gone but your wallet was in the drawer, and there was an envelope with my name on it on the desk. Bread crumbs.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do.”
“There’s no note, Renée.”
She was silent and Bosch knew that she had figured out everything.
“Then I guess that means you did find him. What happened?”
Bosch looked back out at the water.
“Let’s just say the case is closed,” he said. “And leave it at that.”
“Harry,” Ballard said. “What did you do?”
“It’s closed. That’s all you need to know. Sometimes …”
“Sometimes what?”
“Sometimes you do the wrong thing for the right reason. And this was that time and this was that case.”
“Oh, Harry …”
Bosch read her disappointment and anguish all in the way she said his name. He still couldn’t turn to face her.
“Would it help you to know I had no choice?” he asked.
“No, not really,” Ballard said. “Whatever happened, however it happened, you put it in play.”
Bosch nodded. He knew that was true.
“Can we just talk about something else?” he said.
