Echo Park

curves on the way up to Mulholland. He told her that his boss, Abel Pratt, was the setup man, that what had happened in Beachwood Canyon had been his plan. He told her that for the second night in a row he had been outside Bosch’s home.
    “How do you know all of this?”
    “I just know. I’ll be able to prove it all later. For now, it’s a fact.”
    “What was he doing outside?”
    “I don’t know. Trying to see if I was home, I think.”
    “Your phone rang.”
    “When?”
    “Right before you called my cell. I didn’t answer it.”
    “It was probably him. Something’s going on.”
    They came around the last bend, and the four-way stop at Mulholland was ahead. Bosch saw the taillights of a large vehicle just as they disappeared to the right. Another car moved up to the stop. It was the car that had made Pratt move on. It went straight through the intersection.
    “The first one must have been Pratt. He turned right.”
    Bosch got to the stop and also turned right. Mulholland was the winding snake that followed the crest line of the mountains across the city. Its curves were smoother and not as deep as Woodrow Wilson’s. It was also a busier street, with plenty of night cruisers. He would be able to follow Pratt without causing much suspicion.
    They quickly caught up to the vehicle that had turned and confirmed that it was Pratt’s Commander. Bosch then dropped back and for the next ten minutes tailed Pratt along the crest line. The sparkling lights of the Valley sprawled below on the north side. It was a clear night and they could see all the way to the shadowy mountains on the far side of the sprawl. They stayed on Mulholland through the intersection with Laurel Canyon Boulevard and continued west.
    “I was waiting at your house to say good-bye,” Rachel suddenly said.
    After a moment of silence, Bosch responded.
    “I know. I understand.”
    “I don’t think you do.”
    “You didn’t like the way I was today, the way I went after Waits. I’m not the man you thought I was. I’ve heard it before, Rachel.”
    “It’s not that, Harry. Nobody is ever the man you think they are. I can live with that. But a woman has to feel safe with a man. And that includes when they are not together. How can I feel safe when I’ve seen firsthand how you work? It doesn’t matter whether it is the way I would do it or not. I’m not talking about us cop to cop. What I’m talking about is that I could never feel comfortable and safe. I’d wonder every night if it’s the night you won’t be coming home. I can’t do that.”
    Bosch realized he was giving the car too much gas. Her words had made him unconsciously press the pedal down harder. He was getting too close to Pratt. He slowed down and pulled back from the taillights a hundred yards.
    “It’s a dangerous job,” he said. “I thought you more than anybody would know that.”
    “I do. I do. But what I saw out there today with you was recklessness. I don’t want to have to worry about someone who is reckless. There’s enough to worry about out there without that.”
    Bosch blew out his breath. He gestured toward the red lights moving in front of them.
    “Okay,” he said. “Let’s talk about it later. Let’s just concentrate on this for tonight.”
    As if on cue, Pratt hooked a hard left onto Coldwater Canyon Drive and started dropping down toward Beverly Hills. Bosch delayed as long as he believed he could and made the same turn.
    “Well, I’m still glad I’ve got you with me,” he said.
    “Why?”
    “Because if he ends up in Beverly Hills I won’t need to call the locals because I’m with a fed.”
    “Glad I could do something.”
    “You have your gun with you?”
    “Always. You don’t have yours?”
    “It was part of the crime scene. I don’t know when I’ll get it back. And that’s the second gun they’ve taken from me this week. It’s gotta be a record of some kind. Most guns lost during reckless gunplay.”
    He looked over to see if he was getting under her skin. She showed nothing.
    “He’s turning,” she said.
    Bosch snapped his attention back to the road and saw the left-turn signal on the Commander blinking. Pratt made the turn and Bosch went on by. Rachel bent down so she could see out the window and up at the street sign.
    “Gloaming Drive,” she said. “Are we still in the city?”
    “Yeah. Gloaming goes way back in there but there’s no way out. I’ve been in there before.”
    The next street down was