The Narrows

here."
    "Something like that."
    "Something like that."
    "It is hard to miss. How many bodies you got out there?"
    "What makes you ask that? Who said anything about bodies?"
    I smiled and shook my head. She was going to play it hard all the way.
    "Do you mind if we take a look inside your car, Mr. Bosch?" she asked.
    "I think you probably already have."
    "And what makes you think that?"
    "I was a cop in L.A. I worked with the FBI before."
    "And so you know it all."
    "Put it this way, I know what a body dig smells like and I know you've looked in my car. You just want to get my permission now to cover your ass. I'm not giving it to you. Stay out of my car."
    I looked at Zigo and then over at Walling. It was then that I placed her and a whole profusion of questions came up out of the depths.
    "I remember you now," I said. "It's Rachel, right?"
    "Excuse me?" Walling asked.
    "We actually met once. A long time ago in L.A. In Hollywood Division. You were out from Quantico. You were chasing the Poet and you thought one of the guys on the table was the next target. All the time you were right there with the Poet."
    "You worked homicides?"
    "That's right."
    "How is Ed Thomas?"
    "Like me, he retired. But Ed went and opened a bookstore down in Orange. Sells mystery novels, if you can believe it."
    "lean."
    "You're the one who shot Backus, right? In the house on the hill."
    She didn't answer. Her eyes went from mine to Agent Dei's. There was something I didn't get. Walling was playing the lesser role here, but she obviously should have had seniority on Dei and her partner, Zigo. Then I put it together. She had probably been knocked down a notch or two in the scandal that came in the aftermath of the Poet investigation.
    That leap led to another. I took a shot in the dark.
    "That was a long time ago," I said. "Even before Amsterdam." •
    Waiting's eyes flared for a split second and I knew I had hit something solid.
    "How do you know about Amsterdam?" Dei asked quickly.
    I looked back over at her. I pulled out the shrug again and gave it to her.
    "I just know, I guess. Is that what this is about? Is that the Poet's work out there? He's back, isn't he?"
    Dei looked at Zigo and signaled him to the door. He got up and left the RV. Dei then leaned forward so that I would not misunderstand the severity of the situation and her words.
    "We want to know what you are doing here, Mr. Bosch. And you are not going anywhere until we get what we want."
    I mirrored her posture by leaning forward. Our faces were two feet apart.
    "Your guy at the checkpoint took my license. I'm sure you took a look at it and know what I do. I'm working a case. And it's confidential."
    Zigo came back in. He was short and squat, must've just made it in over bureau regs. His hair was cut short like a military man's. He carried Terry McCaleb's file on the missing men in his hand. I knew inside it were the photos I had printed from Terry's computer. Zigo put the file down in front of Dei and she opened it The photo of the old boat was on top. She lifted it and slid it across to me.
    "Where did you get this?"
    "That's confidential."
    "Who are you working for?"
    "That's confidential."
    She flipped through the photos and came to the surreptitious shot Terry had taken of Shandy. She held it up tome.
    "Who is this?"
    "I don't know for sure but I'm thinking it's the long lost Robert Backus."
    "What?" Walling exclaimed.
    She reached over and grabbed the photo out of Dei's hands. I watched her eyes flick back and forth as she studied it.
    "Jesus Christ!" she whispered. She got up and walked with the photo over to the kitchen counter. She put it down and studied it some more.
    "Rachel?" Dei asked. "Don't say anything else."
    Dei turned back to the file. She spread the other photos of Shandy out on the table. She then looked back up at me. There was fire in her eyes now.
    "Where did you take these photos?"
    "I didn't."
    "Who did? And don't say it's confidential again, Bosch, or you are going to find yourself in a deep dark hole until it becomes wn-confidential. This is your last chance."
    I had been in one of the FBI's deep dark holes before. I knew if I had to I could take her best shot. But the truth was I wanted to help. I knew I should help. I had to balance that desire with what would be the best move for Graciela McCaleb. I had a client and I had to protect her.
    "Tell you what," I said. "I want to help. And I want you to help me. Let me make a phone call and see if I