The Betrayal by Jerry B. Jenkins Read Free Book Online Page B

not a corner cut. Everything looked of old movies and TV shows, lots of dark wood and leather.
    And to Boone’s surprise, no lackey delivered him to a conference room. Zappolo himself breezed out and motioned to Boone to follow. “Better we talk in my office,” Fritz said.
    Friedrich Zappolo looked like he had been put together with a kit. Tall, trim, late fifties, tanned, and with short, bristly white hair, he was clearly a fitness buff and a connoisseur of fine suits.
    Boone took in the cavernous office with an expansive view of the Loop and Lake Michigan. “Nice.”
    Zappolo grabbed a leather-bound legal pad from his desk and pointed to a round side table. Boone had never had a powerful lawyer come out from behind the desk and sit with him. He had to wonder if Fritz would have done that if Boone weren’t in the news.
    Regardless, Haeley needed the best.
    Boone cleared his throat as he sat. “You take this case and your client is a civil service clerical worker, currently unemployed. That makes me the payer.”
    Zappolo snorted. “You couldn’t afford me if you were the superintendent of police. Find me five grand for incidentals and consider the rest pro bono.”
    â€œYou serious?”
    â€œThat’s if the case is worthy and interests me.” He pulled a Montblanc from his pocket. “Shoot.”
    Over the next half hour Boone spilled the story.
    Zappolo wrote quickly in neat, compact lines. Finally he sat back and stretched his legs, crossing his feet at the ankles. With his hands behind his head, he seemed to study the ceiling. “I know all these people,” he said. “Except Ms. Lamonica, of course, and I may have even met her. I’ve been in and out of those offices a lot.”
    â€œYou know Fox?”
    Zappolo chuckled. “Everybody knows Garrett. I half expect him to try to hire me. Thankfully this precludes that.”
    â€œYou mean you’ll take Haeley’s case?”
    â€œOf course. That she’s in County is an outrage. Let’s get her out of there.”
    As Zappolo was pulling on his coat, he pressed a button on his desk. “I need the car, and bring Detective Drake his coat.”
    â€œWe’re going now?” Boone said.
    â€œIt’s less than ten miles, Drake, and she shouldn’t be there a minute longer than necessary, should she?”
    2:15 p.m.
    By the time Boone and the lawyer reached the street, a sleek Town Car was waiting, the driver standing by the back door.
    â€œAre they necessary?” Zappolo said, nodding at the uniformed cops who had followed them out.
    â€œâ€™Fraid so,” Boone said. “And we need to give them a minute to get their squad.”
    â€œTell them to hurry. And they don’t have to come inside the jail, do they? Can they wait outside?”
    â€œI’ll make it happen.”
    But when they were on their way, Boone’s cell phone rang. Jack Keller.
    â€œWhere you goin’, Boones?”

7
    County
    Boone heard Fritz Zappolo on his own cell tracking down Haeley’s location and disposition while Jack Keller was bleating at Boone on his.
    â€œDo I have to spell this out for you?” Jack said. “Every gangbanger in the city, in or out of jail, wants your head. You were safe where you were.”
    â€œSo if it was you, Jack, what would you do? You’re a target, you’re wounded, you’re in a cozy hospital, and Margaret is in trouble.” It wasn’t often Boone found Jack Keller stumped. “Puts a different spin on things, doesn’t it? I’m listening, boss. I need my mentor, my champion, to tell me what I ought to do.”
    â€œYou should’ve sat tight,” Keller muttered, plainly with zero conviction.
    â€œThat’s what you would have done? Margaret’s missing. Or kidnapped. Or, wait, how about she’s in the worst holding pen known to man, charged with something so unlikely it