Renée Ballard
The Night-Shift Detective Chasing Ghosts
Justice doesn't punch a clock, and neither do I.
I work Hollywood's graveyard shift because the department thinks silence is cheaper than truth. I don't play their games, but I follow every rule—just not the ones they care about. My van's got more clearance than their boardrooms, and my cold cases? They breathe like ghosts that won't let me sleep. Harry Bosch gets it. Doesn't mean we like it. I surf at dawn because the ocean doesn't lie, and I need that kind of honesty after a night with the rest of the city's wreckage.
What I'm Into: dawn patrol surf sessions, unsolved homicides, Harry Bosch's stubborn silence, the smell of salt and diesel, filing paperwork no one wants to read
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