“So, Ballard, are you Indian?” Clarke said. “You look like there’s something going on there.”
He made a gesture as if circling her face.
“You mean Native American?” Ballard asked. “No, I’m not.”
“Then what?” Clarke persisted.
Neumayer cut in before Clarke could put both feet across the line.
“Renée, sit down,” he said. “Tell me about the weekend.”
She sat in Moore’s station and had to adjust the seat up so she could see both Neumayer and Clarke over the dividers, though she was going to talk mostly to Neumayer.
“You know about the new Midnight Men case, right?” she asked.
“Lisa told us before she got called in,” Neumayer said.
“Well, I think we need to change the focus a little bit,” Ballard said.
“Why?” Clarke asked.
“The new case is up in the hills,” Ballard said. “The Dell. And it’s not the kind of neighborhood you walk into to peep in windows and find a victim. She was targeted and followed there. At least that’s my take. So that changes how we should look at victim acquisition. The first two, the thinking was that the suspects picked the neighborhood because of access and then found their victims. That doesn’t work with victim three. So there’s something about these victims that connects them, and whatever that is — a place or an event either real or virtual — that’s what put them on the suspects’ radar.”
“Makes sense,” Neumayer said. “Any idea where that … point is?”
“The nexus?” Ballard said. “No, not yet. But victim three runs a coffee shop in Los Feliz. That means she has many interactions with strangers on a daily basis. Anyway, that’s what I stuck around for. To talk it out with Lisa and you guys.”
“Well, here she comes now,” Neumayer said. “Let’s all go into the task force room. Nobody’s using it.”
Moore walked up to the pod. She had either gotten a sunburn over the weekend or was colored with embarrassment or anger.
Ballard started to get up from her chair.
“No, that’s okay, Renée,” Moore said. “Take it. You earned it.”
“What are you talking about?” Ballard asked.
“You got my job,” Moore said. “Might as well start today.”
Now she had the attention of Clarke and Neumayer, who was already gathering files to take to the task force room.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ballard said.
“Sure you do,” Moore said. “Next deployment I’m on the late show and you’re on Sex. And don’t play stupid. You set me up.”
“I didn’t set anybody up,” Ballard said. “And this is news to me.”
“Me too,” Clarke said.
“Shut up, Clarke,” Moore said. “This is between me and this backstabbing bitch.”
Ballard tried to remain calm.
“Lisa, wait a minute,” Ballard said. “Let’s go back into L-T’s office and — ”
“Fuck you, Ballard,” Moore said. “You know I’m a single mother. I’ve got kids — how the hell am I going to work midnights? And all because you got pissed that you had to cover for me.”
“Lisa, I did cover for you,” Ballard said. “I did not tell the lieutenant one thing about you or this — ”
“He already knew, Lisa,” Neumayer said. “He knew about the Miramar.”
Moore jerked her laser focus off Ballard and onto Neumayer.
“What?” she asked.
“He knew,” Neumayer said. “The Miramar, right? Santa Barbara? Dash told me Thursday he was going up there for the weekend. If that’s where you were when you should have been working with Ballard, then he probably saw you. Did he just ask you how the weekend was?”
Moore didn’t answer but didn’t have to. Her face betrayed her. She was realizing that the trap she had just walked into in the lieutenant’s office had been set by herself.
“Bang, the penny drops,” Clarke said. “You fucked up, Moore.”
“Shut up, Clarke,” Moore said.
“Okay, can we put this little dustup aside for now?” Neumayer said. “Let’s all go to the TFR. We’ve got a pair of rapists to catch.”
There was a lull before Moore made a sweep of her hand toward the hallway that led to the task force room.
“Lead the way,” she said.