BooksBarbecue
Back Desert Star Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. ALSO BY MICHAEL CONNELLY
  3. DEDICATION
  4. PART 1
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. PART 2
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. EPILOGUE
  61. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  62. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Because the BMW was pointed east, Bosch assumed that Rawls would drive out of the alley on the east side when he left his business. He put his car in reverse and backed down 17th Street and into the driveway of the first home south of the alley. The spot gave him a direct view of the alley’s exit.

He had just put the transmission into park when a call came in from Ballard.

“Rawls is here,” he said. “His car is in the alley behind the shop and I think he might be about to take off. Where are you? Do you have the warrant?”

“I got it signed,” Ballard said. “I’m just leaving now.”

“If he takes off, it’s going to be tough to run a one-car follow on a guy probably looking for it.”

“I understand. I’m on my way.”

Bosch disconnected and focused his attention on the alley exit. He didn’t like not having eyes directly on the BMW, but he also didn’t want to leave his vehicle and risk being seen by Rawls or losing him if he drove off and Bosch was separated from his car.

Because he was looking to the right through the windshield, he didn’t see the man come up on his left side and rap his fist on the roof of the car. Bosch startled and turned.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” the man said. “But do you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

“Uh, I’m waiting for somebody,” Bosch said.

Bosch turned from him to check the alley, then looked back.

“Someone living in this neighborhood?” the man asked.

“It’s not really any of your business,” Bosch said.

“Well, I’m going to make it my business. This is my driveway, and I want to know why you’re sitting in it.”

“Sorry about that. I’ll move out onto the street.”

He started the engine.

“That’s not good enough,” the man said. “If you’re hanging around here, then I need to know why or I’m going to call the police.”

“Mister, I am the police,” Bosch said.

He turned from the man and dropped the car into gear. He drove out onto the street and took a right. He cruised slowly past the alley and took a quick glance toward the BMW.

It wasn’t there.

His eyes were drawn to a set of brake lights flaring at the far end of the alley as a car turned right onto 16th Street.

“Shit,” Bosch said.