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BALLARD CALLED SETH Dawson, hoping he was up and about, maybe even surfing. But when he answered, she could tell he was in a moving car with the windows open. She was in a moving car herself.

“It’s Detective Ballard,” she said. “Are you going to the water?”

“You guessed it.”

“Which break? I’m on my way out too, and I have something for you.”

“Zuma. Going with the app.”

Ballard had checked the Surf’s Up app herself and knew that Zuma was the recommendation. She was already heading toward Venice and she’d have to turn around on the PCH to get back to Zuma. She tried to judge how much time she’d get on the water going all the way up there.

“I’ll meet you there,” she said.

She finished the call and made a U-turn in front of Pepperdine. Thirty minutes later, she was on her board, waiting for her first wave. There was no sign of Dawson.

She got in two long runs on five-footers before she saw Dawson carrying his board across the beach. She paddled parallel to the shore to meet him on the break.

“Hey,” he said after paddling out. “How is it?”

“Not bad,” Ballard said. “Fives and sevens. Fives mostly.”

She paddled closer and turned her board so they were side by side.

“Got something for you,” she said.

She had the Breitling watch on her arm almost all the way to the elbow of her wetsuit. She slid it down and over her hand, then held it out to Dawson.

“No way!” he exclaimed, taking the watch. “You found it?”

“Check the back,” Ballard said.

He did, then gripped the watch in his hand.

“That’s it,” he said. “I told my dad it was gone. He won’t believe this. How’d you get it back?”

“Well, I can’t tell you everything,” Ballard said. “It’s part of an ongoing investigation. But the person who stole it took it to a fence that cooperated with us. So we found it.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Glad to return it to you. I know it means a lot. Now I’m looking for one more wave and then I gotta go to work.”

Ballard glanced over her shoulder. The next set was coming in. It looked like more of the same—five-footers. She leaned forward and started paddling. She called back to Dawson, “That’s my wave. See you.”

Dawson started paddling too.

“Thank you!” he called after her.

They both got up on the wave but Dawson bailed early to go back out for more. Ballard was done for the day. She rode it all the way in, then stepped off the board in the shallows. She turned back to see Dawson holding up his hand, his fingers spread wide—a familiar surfer goodbye. She returned the gesture and lifted her board out of the surf.