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“I will.”
Ballard pointed to the screen.
“And meantime, all we know for sure is that our suspect will have Midwestern roots,” she said.
“That’s correct,” Hatteras said. “And I’m going to keep at it.”
“And how are you identifying yourself with these people?”
“I’m saying I’m a genealogist looking at cold cases for the police department. As you know, there’s a lot of anti-police sentiment out there lately, so I’m just trying to tread slowly and gently and hopefully gain their trust. It’s better, I think, that I don’t outright say I’m LAPD.”
“I think that’s fine. But keep in mind you aren’t actually LAPD. You’re a civilian volunteer.”
“I understand.”
“Okay, Colleen, good stuff. Keep at it and let me know when you make the next link.”
Since the meet with Hastings was now going to be downtown, Ballard did not see the need to get Hatteras out of the building. She could work here all day if she wanted.
“I will,” Hatteras said. “And, um, Renée?”
“What?” Ballard said.
“Is there anything going on that the rest of us should know about? Feels a little bit like high school, the way you and Harry have kind of teamed up and are whispering all the time. And like that fight you two supposedly had yesterday. That felt like a show you put on for all of us.”
“No, Colleen, there’s nothing anybody else needs to know. There are just some things about the case that are sensitive … politically. Plus, Harry Bosch and I have worked cases going back several years, so we have a shorthand and a level of trust that is already built in. Is that okay?”
“Uh, sure, yes. I was just curious. I didn’t mean—”
“Okay, well, you just do what you do and get me some results, Colleen. And thanks for updating me. I’m going to head out now.”
“I thought you said you had some reports to write.”
“I changed my mind. I’ll do it from home. You should go home, too. It’s the weekend, Colleen.”
Ballard got up and went back to her workstation, returned her laptop to her backpack, and then headed toward the exit. She did not look back at Hatteras but had the feeling that she was being watched the whole way.
28
BOSCH WAS AT the table, looking at his phone, when Ballard entered the second-floor break room. He spoke first.
“Did you bait Hastings? Is he coming in?”
“No, we’re meeting downtown at two fifteen. Grand Central Market. What did you get from military archives?”
“I just emailed two files to you. Open up the one called ‘St. Louis.’”
Ballard sat down and opened her laptop. While she put in her password and went to her email, Bosch told her what Henic had sent him. He tried to contain the energy that he felt building inside.
“The new woman at the military archives in St. Louis called the old guy I used to deal with,” he said. “He vouched for me, said I was good people. So I got the whole military file on Hastings, no redactions.”
Ballard was across the table from him and looking at her screen.
“Okay, what am I looking for?” she asked.
“First, you have his postings, and then on page four you have a field action report,” Bosch said. “He lost part of his foot inAfghanistan. And that’s what got him his disabled vet status. Honorably discharged in ’04.”
“So he was here for Wilson.”
