“Harry Bosch.”

“I know. I’ve heard of you.”

“I deny everything.”

She smiled at the line and put her hand out but Bosch was right in the middle of tying one of the boots. He stopped and shook her hand.

“Sorry,” she said. “My timing is off today.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He finished tying the boot and stood up off the bumper.

“When I blurted out the answer in there, about the dog, I immediately realized you were trying to establish a rapport with the doctor. That was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Bosch studied her for a moment. She was mid-thirties with dark hair in a tight braid that left a short tail going over the back of her collar. Her eyes were dark brown. He guessed she liked the outdoors. Her skin had an even tan.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re alone?”

Bosch hesitated.

“My partner’s working on something else while I check this out.”

He saw the doctor coming out the front door of the house with the dog on a leash. He decided not to get out his crime scene jumpsuit and put it on. He glanced over at Julia Brasher, who was now watching the approaching dog.

“You guys don’t have calls?”

“No, it’s slow.”

Bosch looked down at the MagLite in his equipment box. He looked at her and then reached into the trunk and grabbed an oil rag, which he threw over the flashlight. He took out a roll of yellow crime scene tape and the Polaroid camera, then closed the trunk and turned to Brasher.

“Then do you mind if I borrow your Mag? I, uh, forgot mine.”

“No problem.”

She slid the flashlight out of the ring on her equipment belt and handed it to him.

The doctor and his dog came up then.

“Ready.”

“Okay, Doctor, I want you to take us up to the spot where you let the dog go and we’ll see where she goes.”

“I’m not sure you’ll be able to stay with her.”

“I’ll worry about that, Doctor.”