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December 31, 2018 - January 27, 2019
Her eyes were looking hard at distant memories.
Time had eroded the bond between them. They were strangers who shared the same story.
Loneliness had been the trash can fire he huddled around for most of his life.
Bosch stood there, aware that he was about to let events control him, something he knew he should avoid.
The view alone was worth the price of the house, no matter how many millions that was.
“She just got to know me too well. I don’t blame her for anything. I’ve got baggage. I guess maybe I can be hard to take. I’ve lived alone most of my life.”
“Sometimes the sunset looks like lava pouring down on the city.” “That must be beautiful.” “It makes you forgive a lot, forget a lot… That’s the thing about Los Angeles. It’s got a lot of broken pieces to it. But the ones that still work, really do work.”
It was a thirty-minute ride out into the desert northwest of the strip. The neon-and-glass buildings retreated and the cab passed through residential neighborhoods until these, too, became sparse. The land was a ragged brown out here and dotted unevenly with scrub brush. Bosch knew the roots of every bush spread wide and sucked up what little moisture was in the earth. It made for a terrain that seemed dying and desolate. The houses, too, were few and far between, each one an outpost in a no-man’s-land. The streets had been gridded and paved long ago but the boomtown of Las Vegas hadn’t quite
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“It’s the same argument you made the other day about people not taking responsibility. Well, the inverse of that is people who take too much responsibility. And you are becoming one of them. Let that go, Harry. Let it go. Let someone else take some responsibility for some things. Even if that someone else is dead. Being dead does not absolve them of everything.”
“The past is like a club and you can only hit yourself in the head with it so many times before there is serious and permanent damage.
