Read Online Suspicion of Betrayal by Barbara Parker - Free Book Online

plate, nudging the chunks of pork into a straight line. She had no appetite, and the thought of pork made her queasy.
    "Anthony, I need to see a client of yours, Harry Lasko." Anthony's fork paused halfway to his mouth. "It's about the Sweet case you sent me. Wendell Sweet says he has no money, but he's lying. Harry Lasko knows him and might be able to tell us what he did with his cash. If I don't get some information, Jamie could be in real trouble. And my fees! I've got twenty-two thousand dollars' worth of time in this case. The judge won't rule on it until he knows what Wendell can afford. I've got to talk to Mr. Lasko."
    Anthony shook his head as he finished chewing. "No."
    "What do you mean, no?"
    "N-o. I can't let Harry talk to anyone until I work out a plea with the prosecutors. They could tack on more charges if anything else comes up."
    "Such as?"
    He made a slight shrug. "One never knows."
    Gail was still looking at him. "Give me something about Wendell. Come on."
    Anthony didn't want to get into it, she could see that. Barely moving his lips, he said quietly, "Harry and Wendell had some business dealings on Aruba, and before you ask—yes, they were legitimate. However. Wendell knows some questionable people, and the DEA is interested in who they are. I don't want to open that can of worms, not while I'm trying to persuade the government that poor, bumbling Harry Lasko tripped on his shoelaces and fell over the line—"
    "Wendell is a drug dealer?"
    "Let's say . . . that Wendell has terrible taste in friends."
    "I don't see what all this has to do with a divorce case," Gail said.
    "It doesn't. But if Harry slips up and says more than he should, and you file a list of assets in the Sweet case that shows a connection in any way to Harry Lasko—"
    "Who would see it?"
    "No, Gail."
    "I just want to talk to him. It would be confidential."
    "Sorry."
    "Well, I don't see why not."
    "You don't practice criminal law, bonboncita."
    "Then I defer to your expertise—reluctantly."
    "Thank you." Anthony leaned away to ask Alex for the beans and rice. Alex, favor, los moros — The only place Anthony ever ate Cuban food was here, she had noticed. Otherwise, he preferred pasta or steaks.
    "Why is Harry pleading guilty?" Gail whispered.
    "That often happens when a client thinks he'll do worse at trial."
    "But you're too good a trial lawyer to give up so easily."
    "Well, the situation is not so simple."
    "What do you mean?"
    Ignoring her question, Anthony tapped vinegar onto the moros. "This is what we'll do. After I work out a plea, you can talk to him. He'll be around for a while. All right?"
    "When are you going to do this?"
    "Probably next week."
    "I don't want to wait too long," Gail said. "Wendell has to comply with an order of discovery, but what if he doesn't? He could drag this out past the report date, and I'd have to go after him on a motion for contempt—"
    "Gail, pass me the bread, will you?"
    The baby fussed, and Digna held out her arms. Betty got up and carried him around to her. He opened his eyes and stared at his great-grandmother, then cooed in, a toothless grin. When everyone broke into laughter, he started to wail. Digna shushed them and cradled the baby on her breast. Ernesto Pedrosa announced that this little machito already knew how to charm the ladies.
    Then Pedrosa tilted his head to focus his glasses on the other end of the table. Anthony was talking about real estate with Xiomara's husband, Bernardo. Pedrosa broke in with a comment in Spanish, and Anthony disagreed. Pedrosa laughed and made a dismissive wave with one large, bony hand. Anthony returned a frosty smile down the length of the table and spun off some figures. The old man's glower turned into a shrug. He acknowledged that his grandson could be right for once. He allowed a smile before snapping his fingers for more puerco asado.
    Gail had noticed the similarities—the physical resemblance, the dry humor, the pride—but