“It was raining on that particular day. Just like today, hard and sad. So I only visited with her for a few minutes. I got back to the house early. I guess they didn’t hear me come in because of the rain. But I heard them. They were in his office talking . . . I’d had my suspicions so I went to the door. I didn’t make a sound. I stood outside the door and listened.”

Bosch leaned forward. This was the payoff. He’d know in a moment how legitimate she was. He doubted two men involved in the killing of a twelve-year-old girl would sit around reminiscing about it. If Kate Kincaid said that was the case, then Bosch would have to think she was lying.

“What did they say?”

“They weren’t talking in sentences. Do you understand? They were just making short comments. I could tell they were talking about girls. Different girls — it was disgusting what they said. I had no idea how organized this all was. I had deluded myself into thinking that if something had happened with Stacey it was a weakness on his part, something he struggled with. I was wrong. These men were organized predators.”

“So you were at the door listening . . . ,” Bosch said by way of getting her back on track.

“They weren’t talking to each other. It was like they were commenting. I could tell by how they spoke that they were looking at something. And I could hear the computer — the keyboard and other sounds. Later I would be able to use the computer and find what it was they were looking at. It was young girls, ten, eleven . . .”

“Okay, we’ll get back to the computer in a couple of minutes. But let’s go back to what you heard. How did this . . . these comments lead you to conclude or know something about Stacey?”

“Because they mentioned her. I heard Richter say, ‘There she is.’ And then my husband said her name. The way he said it . . . almost with a longing — it wasn’t the way a father or a stepfather would have said it. And then they were quiet. I could tell, they were looking at her. I knew.”

Bosch thought about what he had seen on Rider’s computer screen the night before. It was hard for him to imagine Kincaid and Richter sitting in an office together watching the same scenes — and with decidedly different responses to them.