The concrete blonde - By Michael Connelly Page 0,139
The deputy had been right. Nobody was home. Bosch looked in the garage and Sylvia's Cherokee was not there.
Still, Bosch made a second sweep of the house, opening closets, looking under beds, looking for any indication that something was amiss. The deputy was standing in the living room when Bosch finally came out of the bedroom wing.
“Can I go now? I was pulled off a call that seems a little more important than this.”
Bosch noted the annoyance in the deputy's voice and nodded for him to go. He followed him out and got the rover out of the Caprice.
“Edgar, you up?”
“What do you have there, Harry?”
There was the sound of genuine dread in his voice.
“Nothing here. No sign of her or anything else.”
“I'm at the station, you want me to put a BOLO out?”
Bosch described Sylvia and her Cherokee for the Be On Look Out dispatch that would go out to all patrol cars.
“I'll put it out. We got the task force coming in. Irving, too. We'll be meeting here. There's nothing else to do but wait.”
“I'm going to wait here a while. Keep me posted… . Team One, you up?”
“Team One,” Sheehan said. “We went up to the door. Nobody home. We're standing by. If he shows, we'll bring him in.”
Bosch sat in the living room, his arms folded in front of him, for more than an hour. He now knew why Georgia Stern had held herself this way at Sybil Brand. There was comfort in it. Still, the silence of the house was nerve-wracking. He was staring at the portable phone he had put on the coffee table, waiting for it to ring, when he heard a key hit the lock on the front door. He jumped up and was moving toward the entry when the door opened and a man stepped in. It wasn't Locke. It wasn't anyone Bosch knew, but he had a key.
Without hesitating Bosch moved into the entrance and slammed the man up against the door as he turned to close it.
“Where is she?” he shouted.
“What? What?” the man cried out.
“Where is she?”
“She couldn't come. I'm going to watch it for her. She's got another open in Newhall. Please!”
Bosch realized what was happening just as the pager on his belt sounded its shrill tone. He stepped away from the man.
“You're the Realtor?”
“I work for her. What are you doing? Nobody's supposed to be here.”
Bosch pulled the pager off his belt and saw the readout was his home phone number.
“I have to make a call.”
He went back to the living room. Over his shoulder he heard the real estate man say, “Yeah, you do that! What the hell is going on here.”
Bosch punched the number into the phone and Sylvia picked up after one ring.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, Harry, where are you?”
“At your place. Where have you been?”
“I picked up a pie at Marie Callendar's and took it and the flowers I cut to the Fontenots. I just felt like doing—”
“Sylvia, listen to me. Is the door locked?”
“What? I don't know.”
“Put the phone down and go make sure. Make sure the sliding door to the porch is locked, too. And the door to the carport. I'll wait.”
“Harry, what is—”
“Go do it now!”
She was back in a minute. Her voice sounded very timid.
“Okay, everything's locked.”
“Okay, good. Now listen, I'm coming there right now and it will only take me half an hour. In the meantime, no matter who comes to the door, don't answer it and don't make any sound. Understand?”
“You're scaring me, Harry.”
“I know that. Do you understand what I said?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Bosch thought for a moment. What else could he tell her?
“Sylvia, after we are done here. I want you to go to the closet near the front door. On the shelf there is a white box. Take it down and take out the gun. There are bullets in the red box in the cabinet over the sink. The red box, not the blue. Load the gun.”
“I can't do—what are you telling me?”
“Yes, you can, Sylvia. Load the gun. Then wait for me. If anybody comes through the door and it's not me, protect yourself.”
She didn't say anything.
“I'm on my way. I love you.”
While Bosch was on the freeway going south, Edgar came up on the radio and told him Sheehan and Opelt still had made no sighting of Locke. The presidents had been dispatched to USC but Locke was not at his office, either.
“They're going to sit on both locations. I'm working on a warrant for