my family to the job and then risking my family to the job, that I’m letting it slide? You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Bosch was stunned silent by the verbal shot. Ferras had hit him right in the spot where he had been living for the past seventy-two hours. Finally, he shook it off and came back.
“Ignacio,” he said calmly. “This isn’t working. I don’t know when I will be back into the squad this week, but when I get in there, we’re gonna talk.”
“Fine. I’ll be here.”
“Of course you will. You’re always in the squad. I’ll see you then.”
Bosch closed the phone before Ferras could protest his final shot. Bosch was sure Gandle would back him when he asked for a new partner. He went back into the kitchen to grab a beer and take the edge off the conversation. He opened the refrigerator and started to reach in but stopped. It was too early and he was going to be driving his daughter around the Valley shopping for the rest of the afternoon.
He closed the refrigerator and walked down the hallway. The door to his daughter’s room was closed.
“Maddie, you ready to go?”
“I’m changing. I’ll be out in a minute.”
She had answered in a clipped don’t-bother-me tone. Bosch wasn’t sure what to make of it. The plan was to go to the phone store first and then to get clothing and furniture and a laptop computer. He was going to get his daughter whatever she wanted and she knew it. Yet she was being short with him and he wasn’t sure why. One day on the job as a full-time father and he already felt like he was lost at sea.
41
The next morning Bosch and his daughter set to work assembling some of the purchases of the day before. Maddie was not in school yet because her enrollment would take an additional day to wind through public school bureaucracy-a delay Bosch welcomed because it gave them more time together.
First in line for assembly was the computer desk and chair they had bought at the IKEA store in Burbank. They had gone on a four-hour shopping spree, accumulating school supplies, clothes, electronics and furniture, completely filling Bosch’s car and leaving him with a feeling of guilt that was new to him. He knew that buying his daughter everything she pointed at or asked for was a form of trying to buy her happiness-and the forgiveness that would hopefully come with it.
He had moved the coffee table out of the way and spread the parts of the prefabricated desk out on the floor of the living room. The instructions said it could be completely assembled with only one tool-a small Allen wrench that came with it. Harry and Madeline sat cross-legged on the floor, trying to understand the assembly map.
“It looks like you start by attaching the side panels to the desktop,” Madeline said.
“You sure?”
“Yes. See, everything that is marked ‘one’ is part of the first step.”
“I thought that just meant you have one of those parts.”
“No, because there are two side panels and they’re marked ‘one.’ I think it means step one.”
“Oh.”
A phone rang and they looked at each other. Madeline had gotten a new phone the day before and it was once again a match to her father’s. The trouble was, she had not selected an individual ring tone, so both phones sounded the same. She had received a series of calls throughout the morning from friends in Hong Kong whom she had sent messages to, saying she had moved to Los Angeles.
“I think that’s you,” she said. “I left mine in my room.”
Bosch slowly climbed to his feet, his knees aching after being rescued from his cross-legged position. He made it over to the dining room table to grab the phone before the caller hung up.
“Harry, it’s Dr. Hinojos, how are you?”
“Plugging away, Doc. Thanks for the callback.”
Bosch opened the slider and stepped out onto the deck, closing the door behind him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get back until today,” Hinojos said. “Mondays are always brutal here. What’s up”
Hinojos ran the department’s Behavioral Science Section, the unit that offered psychiatric services to the rank and file. Bosch had known her almost fifteen years, ever since she had been a frontline counselor assigned to evaluate him after he’d had a physical altercation with his supervisor at Hollywood Division.
Bosch kept his voice low.
“I wanted to ask if you would do something for me as a favor.”
“Depends on what it