Ballard stared at him in awe. The mantrap door was opening.
“You’re a detective, L-T,” she said. “That’s amazing. But there’s another reason I called Bosch.”
“And what’s that?” Robinson-Reynolds asked.
“Ten years ago he worked a homicide here in Hollywood. I connected the Raffa case to his case through ballistics. His case is still open. I wanted to talk to him about it and we agreed to meet at the Raffa memorial.”
Robinson-Reynolds leaned back in his chair as he considered this.
“And when were you going to tell me this?” he asked.
“Today. Now. I was waiting for the chance.”
“Ballard …”
He decided not to say what he was going to say.
“Just make sure Ross Bettany gets everything you’ve got on the case,” he said instead.
“Of course,” Ballard said.
“And look, I don’t mind what you did. But I mind how you did it. You’re lucky I think Davenport up there in GED is an empty suit. Why he’s mad at you, I don’t know. Sounds like professional jealousy. But what I do mind is you breaking into my office. That can’t happen again.”
“It won’t, sir.”
“I know it won’t. Because I’m going to get one of those Ring cameras and put it in here so I get an alert anytime somebody comes in.”
Ballard nodded.
“That’s a good idea,” she said.
“So take your little black bag and go call West Bureau and arrange to hand off the case,” Robinson-Reynolds said. “Then call Bosch and tell him his services on the case are no longer needed. That West Bureau will take it from here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And then I want you to get together with the Sex team to figure out next moves on the Midnight Men. I want to be briefed before you split.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can go now, Ballard.”
Ballard stood up, took the lockpicks off the corner of the desk, and headed for the door. Before leaving, she turned back to the lieutenant.
“By the way, I’m off the next three nights,” she said. “Did you put somebody on call yet?”
“Not yet,” Robinson-Reynolds said. “I’ll figure it out.”
“How did you know about Lisa and Santa Barbara?”
“Because I was in Santa Barbara. I’m walking on the beach and hear this voice and I look, and there is Moore in a cabana in front of the Miramar.”
“Did you say something?”
“Nope. I’m going to bring her in here like I did with you. See if she tells me a story or tells me the truth. And don’t you warn her, Ballard.”
“I won’t.”
“If she tells me the truth, we’ll be fine. If she lies to me … well, I can’t have that.”
“I understand.”
Ballard left the office and took an immediate right turn, away from the squad room and toward the station’s front hallway. She went to the break room to brew a cup of coffee. She knew it was going to be a few hours before she would get to sleep. She also didn’t want to be in the detective bureau when Lisa Moore showed up for work and the lieutenant summoned her to his office. She didn’t need to have Moore blaming her for not giving her a warning.
As the coffee dripped, Ballard considered firing a text to Moore telling her not to lie to the L-T.
But she didn’t. Moore could make her own way and deal with the consequences.
27
Ballard walked into the squad room through the back hallway and saw Matt Neumayer and Ronin Clarke at their workstations in the Crimes Against Persons pod. Lisa Moore’s station was empty. Ballard walked over, put her coffee down on one of the half walls that separated the workstations. It was a six-person pod; one half was the Sexual Assault Unit and the other was the actual CAPs Unit, which handled all assaults that were not sexually motivated.
“Lisa coming in?” Ballard asked.
“She’s here,” Clarke said. “L-T called her in for a powwow.”
Ballard glanced toward the lieutenant’s office and through the glass could see Lisa sitting in front of Robinson-Reynolds’s desk.
“You know, Ronin, you’re not supposed to use words like that anymore,” Neumayer said.
Ballard looked at Neumayer. It did not look like he was serious.
“Powwow?” Clarke said. “My bad — I’ll add it to my list. I guess I’m just not woke enough.”
Clarke then turned to Ballard.