I heard Seguin’s voice echoing off the walls behind me.
“I’ll keep her close, Bosch! I’ll keep her right here with me! Eternally together! Eternally mine!”
When I got to the steel door, I hit it with both fists until I heard the electronic lock snap and the guard began to slide it open.
“All right, man, all right. What’s the hurry?”
“Just get me out of here,” I said as I pushed past him.
I could still hear Seguin’s voice echoing from the death house as I crossed back across the open field.
One-Dollar Jackpot
The call came in after the usual killing hours. Bosch checked the clock as he rolled to the side of the bed and sat up. It was 5:45 A.M. and that was late for a murder call.
It was Lieutenant Larry Gandle with the news.
“Harry, you and Ignacio are up. Pacific is turning over a case to us. Female, thirty-eight years of age, name of Tracey Blitzstein. She got shot to death this morning in her car. One in the head. She was parked in her own driveway.”
The name sounded slightly familiar but Bosch couldn’t immediately place it.
“Who is she and why are we getting it?”
“She’s sort of a TV star. She plays poker. Uses the name Tracey Blitz. Her husband plays, too, I’m told. So if you watch that sort of thing on cable, then you’ve probably seen her a few times. She gets profiled. They use her on the commercials. She was good-looking and apparently the best thing the female species had to offer in the arena of professional poker.”
Bosch nodded. He only watched poker on TV when he had insomnia and the World Series of Poker reruns were on ESPN. He knew it was very popular. But all that wasn’t why he knew the name Tracey Blitz. Years earlier the name came up from time to time with his ex-wife, who also played poker for a living.