The Drop(26)
She hesitated. He could see her eyes in the dim light from the dash.
“Um, Detective . . .”
“You can call me Harry.”
“Harry, I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”
“Really? Why? I’m talking about a quick sandwich. I have to bring soup home.”
“Well, because . . .”
She paused and then started laughing.
“What?”
“I don’t know. Never mind. Yes, I’ll meet you there.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
He got out of the car and headed to his own. The whole way to Jerry’s he kept checking the rearview mirror. She was following him and he half expected her to suddenly take a screaming turn to the left or right when she changed her mind.
But she never did and soon they were sitting across from each other in a booth. In the well-lit deli he noticed her eyes for the first time. There was a sadness in them he had not noticed before. Maybe it was from the work. She dealt with the lowest form of human life. The predators. Those who took advantage of the smaller and the weaker. Those the rest of society couldn’t stand to look at.
“How old is your daughter?”
“Fifteen going on thirty.”
She smiled.
“She’s home sick from school today and I barely got the chance to check in on her. It’s been a busy day.”
“It’s just you and her?”
“Yes. Her mother—my ex—died a couple years ago. I went from living alone to trying to raise a thirteen-year-old. It’s been . . . interesting.”
“I bet.”
He smiled.
“The truth is, I’ve loved every minute of it. It’s changed my life for the better. I just don’t know if she’s better off.”
“But there’s no other choice, is there?”
“No, that’s the thing. She’s stuck with me.”
“I’m sure she’s happy, even if she doesn’t express it. It’s hard to read teenage girls.”
“Yeah.”
He checked his watch. He felt guilty now that he had put himself first. He wouldn’t get home till at least eight thirty with the soup. The waiter came and asked for their drink order and Bosch told him that they needed to order everything to save time. Stone ordered half a turkey sandwich. Bosch ordered a whole turkey sandwich and the soup to go.
“What about you?” he asked when they were left alone.
Stone told him she had been divorced for over ten years and had had only one serious relationship in the time since. She had a grown son who lived up in the San Francisco area and she rarely saw him. She was pretty much dedicated to her job at the Buena Vista, where she had worked for four years after a midlife change in direction. She went from being a therapist who specialized in treating narcissistic professionals to retooling for a year in school before treating sex offenders.
Bosch got the idea that her decision to change her professional life and work with the most hated members of society was some sort of penance but he didn’t know her well enough to go further with his suspicion. It was a mystery he would have to wait to solve, if he got the chance.
“Thank you for what you said back in the parking lot,” she said. “Most cops, they just think these people should be taken out and shot.”
“Well . . . not without a trial.”
He smiled but she didn’t see the humor in it.
“Every one of these men is a mystery. I’m a detective like you. I try to find out what happened to them. People aren’t natural-born predators. Please don’t tell me you believe that.”
Bosch hesitated.
“I don’t know. I sort of come in after the fact to clean things up. All I know is that there is evil out there in the world. I’ve seen it. I’m just not sure where it comes from.”
“Well, my job is to find that out. Find out what happened to these people that put them on this path. If I can find it out, I can help them. If I help them, then I am helping the cause of society. Most police don’t get that. But you, what you said tonight, I think maybe you do.”
Bosch nodded but felt guilty about what he was hiding from her. She read it right away.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He shook his head, embarrassed at the easy read.
“Listen, I want to level with you about today.”
Her stare turned hard. It was as though she realized the dinner invitation had been some sort of a setup.
“Wait, it’s not what you’re thinking. I didn’t lie to you today but I didn’t tell you the whole story about Pell. You know the case I’m working? With Pell’s DNA on the victim? It’s twenty-two years old.”