The Black Box

you.”
    “Dad, no one has to stay with me. I’m sixteen and I have a gun. I’m fine.”
    “I know that but I want her to stay. It will just make me feel better. Can you do that for me?”
    She shook her head but agreed halfheartedly.
    “I guess. I just don’t—”
    “She’s very excited about staying. And she won’t get in your way or tell you when to go to bed or anything like that. I already talked to her about all of that.”
    She put her half-eaten hamburger down in a manner that Bosch had come to learn meant that she was finished with her meal.
    “How come she never stays over when you’re there?”
    “I don’t know. But that’s not what we’re talking about.”
    “Like last night. We had a great time and then you dropped her off at her house.”
    “Maddie . . . that stuff’s private.”
    “Whatever.”
    All such conversations universally ended with whatever . Bosch looked around and tried to think of something else to talk about. He felt he had fumbled the Hannah situation.
    “Why did you suddenly ask me before why I became a cop?”
    She shrugged.
    “I don’t know. I just wanted to know.”
    He thought about that for a moment before responding.
    “You know, if you’re thinking about whether it’s the right choice for you, you’ve got plenty of time.”
    “I know. It’s not that.”
    “And you know that I want you to do whatever you want to do in life. I want you happy and that will make me happy. Never think you have to do this for me or follow in my footsteps. It’s not about that.”
    “I know, Dad. I just asked you a question, that’s all.”
    He nodded.
    “Okay, then. But for what it’s worth, I already know you would be a damn good cop and a damn good detective. It’s not about how you shoot, it’s about how you think and your basic understanding of fairness. You got what it takes, Mads. You just have to decide if it’s what you want. Either way, I got your back.”
    “Thanks, Dad.”
    “And just getting back to the simulator for a second, I’mreally proud of you. Not just because of the shooting. I’m talking about how cool you were, how confident you were with your commands. It was all good.”
    She seemed to take the encouragement well, and then he watched the line of her mouth turn down in a frown.
    “Tell that to the flight attendant,” she said.

26
    B osch left in darkness Monday morning. It was at least a five-hour drive to Modesto, and he didn’t want to waste the day just getting there. He had rented a Crown Victoria from Hertz at the airport in Burbank the night before because LAPD regulations didn’t allow him to use his department car while on vacation. Normally that would be one of the rules Bosch would bend, but with O’Toole checking his every move these days, he decided to play it safe. He did, however, bring the mobile strobe light from the work car and transfer his equipment boxes from trunk to trunk. There were no regulations about that, as far as he knew. With the rented Crown Vic he would look the part if he needed to.
    Modesto was pretty much a straight shot north from Los Angeles. Bosch took I-5 out of the city and up over the Grapevine before splitting off on California 99, which would take him through Bakersfield and Fresno on the way. As he drove, he continued through the catalog of Art Pepper’s music that Maddie had given him. He was now up to volume five, which was a concert that happened to be recorded in Stuttgart in 1981. It contained a kick-ass version of Pepper’s signaturesong “Straight Life,” but it was the soulful “Over the Rainbow” that made Bosch hit the replay button on the dash.
    He got to Bakersfield during the morning rush hour and dropped below sixty miles per hour for the first time. He decided to wait out the traffic and pulled over for breakfast at a place called the Knotty Pine Cafe. He knew of it because it was just a few blocks from the Kern County Sheriff’s Office, where he had had business on occasion over the years.
    After he ordered eggs, bacon, and coffee, he unfolded the map he had printed Saturday on two sheets of paper and then taped together. The map showed the forty-mile stretch of the Central Valley that had become important to the Anneke Jespersen case. All the points he had marked hugged CA-99, beginning with Modesto at the south end and moving north through Ripon, Manteca, then Stockton.
    What was noteworthy to Bosch was that the map he had taped together stretched across two