But as he came around the last curve he saw Eleanor’s car, the beat-up Taurus, parked at the curb in front of their house. She had left the carport open for him. He felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders begin to relax. The tightness in his chest began to ease. She was home.

The house was quiet when he entered. He put his briefcase down on one of the dining room chairs and started stripping off his tie as he moved into the living room. He then moved down the short hallway and looked into the bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark except for the outline of exterior light around the window. He saw Eleanor’s still form under the covers on the bed. Her brown hair was splayed over the pillow.

He moved into the bedroom and quietly took off his clothes, draping them over a chair. He then went back down the hallway to the guest bathroom to take a shower without waking her up. Ten minutes later he slid into the bed next to her. He was on his back, looking through the darkness to the ceiling. He listened to her breathing. He didn’t hear the slow, measured breaths of her sleeping that he was used to.

“You awake?” he whispered.

“Mmm-hmm.”

He waited a long moment.

“Where were you, Eleanor?”

“Hollywood Park.”

Bosch didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to accuse her of lying. Maybe Jardine, the security guy, had simply missed her during his survey of the video screens. He stared at the ceiling, wondering what to say next.

“I know that you called there looking for me,” Eleanor said. “I knew Tom Jardine in Las Vegas. He used to work at the Flamingo. He lied when you called. He came to me first.”

Bosch closed his eyes and remained silent.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I just didn’t want to have to deal with you then.”

“Deal with me?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Not really, Eleanor. How come you didn’t answer my message when you got home?”

“What message?”

Bosch realized he had played the message back himself earlier. There wouldn’t have been a flashing light on the machine. She would not have heard the message.

“Never mind. When did you get home?”

She lifted her head off the pillow to look at the glowing numbers on the bedside clock.

“Couple hours ago.”

“How’d you do?”

He didn’t really care. He just wanted her to keep talking to him.

“All right. Came out a little ahead but I messed up. I missed a big one.”

“What happened?”

“I went with a long shot when I should’ve stuck with a sure thing.”

“What do you mean?”