The front door was unlocked. Bosch and Mendenhall entered, covering the angles from both sides of the frame. They came into a circular entry room with a thick oval of glass sitting atop a three-foot-high stump of cypress. There was nothing else in the room, just the table for keys and mail and packages. From there they started down the main hallway, clearing first a dining room with a table long enough to seat twelve, and then a living room that had to have been at least two thousand square feet, with twin fireplaces at opposite ends. They moved back into the hall, which jogged around a grand staircase and into a smaller back hallway that led to the kitchen. On the floor here was the dog that had charged toward Bosch the night before. Cosmo. He had been shot behind the left ear.

They hesitated in front of the dog, and almost immediately the kitchen lights went out. Bosch knew what was coming.

“Get down!”

He threw himself forward to the floor, coming up behind the dog’s body. A figure appeared in the darkness of the kitchen doorway and Bosch saw the gunpowder flashes before he heard the shots. He felt the dog’s body jerk with the impact of shots meant for him and he returned fire, putting four shots through the doorway into the dark. He heard glass shattering and wood splintering. Then he heard a door opening and the sound of footsteps running away.

No shots followed his volley. He looked around and saw Mendenhall huddled next to a bookcase that stood against the right wall, filled with cookbooks.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Fine,” she responded.

He turned and looked down the hallway behind them. They had left the front door open. The shooter could be circling the house to come in on them from behind. It was time to move. Time to clear the kitchen.

Bosch pulled himself up into a crouch, then sprang forward, jumping over the dog’s body and moving quickly toward the dark doorway to the kitchen.

He entered the room and immediately swept his hand up the wall to his right, flicking four switches and bathing the kitchen in harsh light from above. To his left was an open door leading to a backyard pool area.

He swept his aim back across the room and saw no one else.

“It’s clear!”

He moved toward the open doorway, stepped out and then immediately to the right so he would not be silhouetted in the door’s light. The dark water of the rectangular pool shimmered in the light from the kitchen, but beyond that there was only darkness. Bosch could see nothing.

“Is he gone?”

Bosch turned. Mendenhall was standing behind him.

“He’s out there somewhere.”