City Of Bones

everything.”
    She smiled at the line and put her hand out but Bosch was right in the middle of tying one of the boots. He stopped and shook her hand.
    “Sorry,” she said. “My timing is off today.”
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    He finished tying the boot and stood up off the bumper.
    “When I blurted out the answer in there, about the dog, I immediately realized you were trying to establish a rapport with the doctor. That was wrong. I’m sorry.”
    Bosch studied her for a moment. She was mid-thirties with dark hair in a tight braid that left a short tail going over the back of her collar. Her eyes were dark brown. He guessed she liked the outdoors. Her skin had an even tan.
    “Like I said, don’t worry about it.”
    “You’re alone?”
    Bosch hesitated.
    “My partner’s working on something else while I check this out.”
    He saw the doctor coming out the front door of the house with the dog on a leash. He decided not to get out his crime scene jumpsuit and put it on. He glanced over at Julia Brasher, who was now watching the approaching dog.
    “You guys don’t have calls?”
    “No, it’s slow.”
    Bosch looked down at the MagLite in his equipment box. He looked at her and then reached into the trunk and grabbed an oil rag, which he threw over the flashlight. He took out a roll of yellow crime scene tape and the Polaroid camera, then closed the trunk and turned to Brasher.
    “Then do you mind if I borrow your Mag? I, uh, forgot mine.”
    “No problem.”
    She slid the flashlight out of the ring on her equipment belt and handed it to him.
    The doctor and his dog came up then.
    “Ready.”
    “Okay, Doctor, I want you to take us up to the spot where you let the dog go and we’ll see where she goes.”
    “I’m not sure you’ll be able to stay with her.”
    “I’ll worry about that, Doctor.”
    “This way then.”
    They walked up the incline toward the small turnaround circle where Wonderland reached a dead end. Brasher made a hand signal to her partner in the car and walked along with them.
    “You know, we had a little excitement up this way a few years ago,” Guyot said. “A man was followed home from the Hollywood Bowl and then killed in a robbery.”
    “I remember,” Bosch said.
    He knew the investigation was still open but didn’t mention it. It wasn’t his case.
    Dr. Guyot walked with a strong step that belied his age and apparent condition. He let the dog set the pace and soon moved several paces ahead of Bosch and Brasher.
    “So where were you before?” Bosch asked Brasher.
    “What do you mean?”
    “You said you were new in Hollywood Division. What about before?”
    “Oh. The academy.”
    He was surprised. He looked over at her, thinking he might need to reassess his age estimate.
    She nodded and said, “I know, I’m old.”
    Bosch got embarrassed.
    “No, I wasn’t saying that. I just thought that you had been somewhere else. You don’t seem like a rookie.”
    “I didn’t go in until I was thirty-four.”
    “Really? Wow.”
    “Yeah. Got the bug a little late.”
    “What were you doing before?”
    “Oh, a bunch of different things. Travel mostly. Took me a while to figure out what I wanted to do. And you want to know what I want to do the most?”
    Bosch looked at her.
    “What?”
    “What you do. Homicide.”
    He didn’t know what to say, whether to encourage her or dissuade her.
    “Well, good luck,” he said.
    “I mean, don’t you just find it to be the most fulfilling job ever? Look at what you do, you take the most evil people out of the mix.”
    “The mix?”
    “Society.”
    “Yeah, I guess so. When we get lucky.”
    They caught up to Dr. Guyot, who had stopped with the dog at the turnaround circle.
    “This the place?”
    “Yes. I let her go here. She went up through there.”
    He pointed to an empty and overgrown lot that started level with the street but then quickly rose into a steep incline toward the crest of the hills. There was a large concrete drainage culvert, which explained why the lot had never been built on. It was city property, used to funnel storm water runoff away from the homes on the street. Many of the streets in the canyon were former creek and river beds. When it rained they would return to their original purpose if not for the drainage system.
    “Are you going up there?” the doctor asked.
    “I’m going to try.”
    “I’ll go with you,” Brasher said.
    Bosch looked at her and then turned at the sound of a car. It