The Closers

box on a pole next to Bosch’s open window.
    “Yes, who is it?”
    It was a woman. She sounded young.
    “Amanda Sobek?” Bosch asked in reply.
    “No, this is her assistant. Who are you two?”
    Bosch looked again at the box and saw the camera lens. They were being watched as well as listened to. He pulled out his badge and held it a foot from the lens.
    “Police,” he said. “We need to talk to Amanda or Mark Sobek.”
    “About what?”
    “About police business. Open the gate, please, ma’am.”
    They waited and Bosch was just about to punch the call button again when the gate slowly started to automatically open. They drove in and parked in a turnaround circle in front of the two-story portico.
    “Looks like the kind of place it might be worth killing a tow truck driver to protect,” Bosch said quietly as he cut the engine.
    The door was opened before they got there by a woman in her twenties. She was wearing a skirt and a white blouse. The assistant.
    “And you are?” Bosch asked.
    “ Melody Lane. I work for Mrs. Sobek.”
    “Is she here?” Rider asked.
    “Yes, she’s getting dressed and will be right down. You can wait in the living room.”
    They were led into an entrance hallway, where there was a table with several family photos on display. It looked like a husband, wife and two teenaged daughters. They followed Melody into a sumptuous living room with large windows looking out on Santa Susana State Park and Oat Mountain beyond.
    Bosch checked his watch. It was almost noon. Melody noticed.
    “She wasn’t sleeping. She worked out earlier and was taking a shower. She should be down -”
    She didn’t need to finish. An attractive woman in white slacks and blouse left open over a pink chiffon shirt came hurrying into the room.
    “What is it? Is something wrong? Are my girls all right?”
    “Are you Amanda Sobek?” Bosch asked.
    “Of course I am. What is wrong? Why are you here?”
    Bosch pointed to the grouping of couch and chairs in the center of the room.
    “Why don’t we sit down here, Mrs. Sobek.”
    “Just tell me if something is wrong.”
    The panic on her face looked real to Bosch. He started to think they may have made a wrong turn somewhere.
    “Nothing is wrong,” he said. “This is not about your daughters. Your daughters are fine.”
    “Is it Mark?”
    “No, Mrs. Sobek. As far as we know he is fine, too. Let’s sit down over here.”
    She finally relented and walked quickly to the big chair to the right of the couch. Bosch moved around a glass coffee table and sat on the couch. Rider took one of the remaining chairs. Bosch identified himself and Rider and showed his badge again. He noticed that the glass on the table was spotless.
    “We are conducting an investigation that I can’t tell you about. I need to ask you some questions about your cell phone.”
    “My cell phone? You scared me to death over my cell phone?”
    “It’s actually a very serious investigation, Mrs. Sobek. Do you have your cell phone with you?”
    “It’s in my purse. Do you need to see it?”
    “No, not yet. Can you tell me when you used it yesterday?”
    Sobek shook her head like it was an inane question.
    “I don’t know. In the morning I called Melody from the gym. I can’t remember when else. I went to the store and called my daughters to see if they were on their way home after school. I can’t remember anything else. I was home almost all day except for the gym. When I’m home I don’t use my cell. I use the regular phone.”
    Bosch’s misgivings were multiplying. Somewhere they had made a wrong move.
    “Could someone else have used the phone?” Rider asked.
    “My daughters have their own. So does Melody. I don’t understand this.”
    Bosch pulled the page from the pen register out of his coat pocket. Out loud he read the number of the phone that had called Tampa Towing.
    “Is that your number?” he asked.
    “No, it’s my daughter’s. It’s Kaitlyn’s.”
    Bosch leaned forward. This changed things further.
    “Your daughter’s? Where was she yesterday?”
    “I already told you. She was in school. And she didn’t use her phone until after, because it’s not allowed at school.”
    “What school does she go to?” Rider asked.
    “ Hillside Prep. It’s over in Porter Ranch.”
    Bosch leaned back and looked at Rider. Something had just come full circle. He wasn’t sure what it was but it felt important.
    Amanda Sobek read the looks on their faces.
    “What is