Lost Dog (A Gideon and Sirius Novel Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

website, there are plenty of departmental Twitter accounts you can follow. Don’t hesitate to ask those accounts to reference your case.”
    I called out some of the Twitter accounts I knew offhand, such as @LAMurderCop and @77thHomicideCop, and saw some people writing them down.
    “Two more questions,” Walker announced.
    I looked at the clock and was amazed to see it was already six forty-five.
    “And one of them better not be where you can find the best doughnuts,” I said.
    It was the best comic relief I could come up with for what had been an intense evening.
    The Hispanic woman who’d been helping Langston earlier raised her hand. She was an attractive woman, but her prominent frown lines and heavy dark circles bespoke a troubled life. I signaled her with my finger.
    “I’m Catalina Ceballos,” she said. “My husband was shot to death three years ago. According to LAPD, his case has been solved, and yet his murderers have never been convicted. When I tell people this, no one seems to understand how that could be. There was never even an arrest. On the books, LAPD says they solved this case. They call it a ‘cleared other.’ Because of that I’m in limbo. The police say they know who killed my husband, but the district attorney said there wasn’t enough evidence to make a case. How is this possible?”
    “I am sorry for your loss,” I said. “Unfortunately, there are certain homicides that don’t lead to an arrest but are sometimes still designated as ‘cleared other.’ For example, murder/suicides are almost always categorized as ‘cleared others.’”
    “My situation wasn’t like that,” Catalina said, her voice cracking slightly. “And there are others here”—she glanced at a white man sitting next to her—“whose cases LAPD also solved with an eraser.”
    Her voice had grown huskier, but she fought off tears and tried to continue speaking.
    “The men that murdered my husband have never spent a day in jail. And when I try to get the detectives to do something, the only thing that happens is that I get threatened by the gang that murdered my husband!”
    Catalina stopped speaking, her emotions silencing her. The man sitting next to her offered his hand and then stood up. He had long brown hair and appeared to be in his early thirties.
    “I’m James,” he said. “Catalina’s situation is Kafkaesque. LAPD is cooking the books to improve its homicide clearance rate and not giving us any answers.”
    “While I sympathize with what Catalina has had to go through,” I said mildly, “I wouldn’t call it cooking the books.”
    “Then why does the L.A. Times continue to run stories saying the department’s homicide solve rates are bogus?”
    I had read those stories, and also the department’s rebuttal. “LAPD admitted that in 2014 and 2015 there were some clerical errors, but subsequently the solve rates turned out to be actually better than first reported.”
    From her seat, Catalina found her voice: “Did you know that more than ten percent of LAPD’s homicide solve rate over the last few years have been ‘cleared others’?”
    “No, I didn’t know that,” I said. “But sometimes there are reasons that are out of the hands of LAPD as to why charges weren’t filed or arrests weren’t made. As a cop, I can tell you we like putting away the bad guys.”
    “When a case is officially closed,” said Catalina, “detectives no longer have any reason to gather evidence.”
    “Is there a question there?” I asked.
    She shook her head, and it was clear I hadn’t won her over. “I’m not sure if there is. I just thank God that Langston is trying to help reopen my husband’s case.”
    Langston decided I’d been on the hot seat for long enough. “Ronaldo, last question,” he said.
    A Hispanic man who looked to be about forty stood up. He was wearing a soccer shirt in the colors of one of the Premier club teams, but I didn’t know which one. I wondered if Ronaldo was his