She was pacing in the brush and running the facts of the case through her mind when she heard Single come up behind her. He put one arm around and used the other to pull her hair back from the nape of her neck. He kissed her there.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“About what?” she asked.
“The view. I mean, look at this place.”
Ballard hadn’t even noticed. She hadn’t been looking past her thoughts on the case.
“It’s pretty,” she said. “Stark.”
“It is,” Single said. “It’s why I like it.”
“No, you like it for the real-estate value and the wide-open space. Cops and firefighters always want space.”
“True. But I gotta be honest. I like the sharp ridges out here.”
“Then I gotta be honest. It’s too far away from the water.”
“What do you mean? We got the Santa Clara River right over that ridge.”
“Yeah, I’m talking about an ocean. The Pacific Ocean. Last I heard, you can’t surf the Santa Clara River — even when there is water in it.”
“But it’s a good counterpoint, mountains and oceans, isn’t it? The desert and beach have got at least one thing in common.”
“Sand?”
“You guessed it.”
Single laughed, and when he stopped, Ballard could hear her phone buzzing on the kitchen counter inside. It was the first time in thirty-six hours, and she had thought she was outside the limit of her cell service, but here it was: a call.
“Let me try to grab that,” she said.
“Come on,” Single said. “We’re talking about the future here.”
She hurried in through the door but the phone’s buzz died before she reached it. She saw the number was a city exchange but didn’t recognize it. She hesitated calling back blindly. It could be about her Board of Rights hearing. She still didn’t know if it would take place as scheduled after she had been taken off suspension and then placed back on. She waited and soon a voice-mail message notice appeared on the screen. She reluctantly played it back.
“Detective Ballard, Carl Schaeffer here from the Bureau of Street Lighting. I saw all the fuss on the news about the so-called Midnight Men and I’m guessing that’s your case and the cat is sort of out of the bag. But just in case it still matters, I wanted to let you know we got a maintenance call today on a light over in Hancock Park and I’m here if you want to know the details.”
Ballard immediately called Schaeffer back.
“Detective, how are you?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Schaeffer. I got your message. Did you send anyone out to repair the light?”
“No, not yet. I thought I’d check with you first.”
“Who called it in?”
“A guy we know over there — we sort of call him the mayor of Windsor Square. It’s not on his street but people there just sort of know he’s the go-to guy on streetlights and other neighborhood stuff. He called it in this morning. Just now, in fact. Right before I called you.”
“Can I get his name?”
“John Welborne.”
Schaeffer also gave Ballard the phone number Welborne had called from to initiate the maintenance request.
“Was I right about the Midnight Men — them being why you came here about the lights?”
“What makes you say that? Was there something in the paper about streetlights?”
“Not that I saw. I just kinda put two and two together. The paper said three different women were attacked, and you had asked about three different streetlights.”
“Mr. Schaeffer — Carl — I think you could’ve been a smart detective, but please don’t talk to anyone about this. That is not fully confirmed and it could hurt the investigation if it becomes public knowledge.”
“Completely understood, Detective. I have not told a soul and I certainly won’t. But thanks for the compliment. I thought about being a cop way back in the day.”
Single came in from outside and saw the serious look on Ballard’s face. He held his hands wide as if to ask if there was anything he could do. Ballard shook her head and continued with Schaeffer.
“Can you give me the address of the streetlight we’re talking about, Mr. Schaeffer?” she asked.
“Sure can,” Schaeffer said. “Let me look it up here.”
He read off an address on North Citrus Avenue.
“Between Melrose and Beverly,” he added helpfully.
Ballard thanked him and disconnected. She looked at Single.