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

sheet, then looked over the top of his glasses. “What’s a case like this doing in my court? Your client also a hooker?”
    â€œYour Honor would be advised not to verge on slandering an upstanding Chicago civil servant, a mother, and a woman with not even a hint of a record.”
    The judge leveled his gaze at Zappolo. “And counsel would be advised not to lecture the court. This may not be Mahogany Row, but the same rules apply.”
    â€œBegging Your Honor’s pardon, may I suggest that my client be released on her own recognizance until this misunderstanding can be sorted out? She poses no flight risk and is eager to be reunited with her young son.”
    â€œMaybe she should have thought of that before she—” the judge pursed his lips as he again perused the charge sheet—“violated the public trust and her oath of—”
    â€œAs I say, Your Honor, a misunderstanding. I pledge personal responsibility for the custody of Ms. Lamonica and—”
    â€œOh, come now, counsel. I’m not going to just let you walk out of here with a fugitive. Your client may well be innocent of these charges, but if she’s not, she’s at least indirectly responsible for a Chicago Police Department hero being gravely wounded in the line of duty. This man was almost single-handedly responsible for ridding our streets of the worst sort of—”
    â€œWould it aid the court to know that the very victim you speak of is present in support of the defendant, clearly persuaded that she bears no responsibility?”
    Boone had just started to feel better, the anesthetic beginning to dull his pain. Now he wanted to hide. He knew Zappolo would make up for his minuscule fee by riding the publicity, but did Fritz have to use him in the process? Jack Keller would be spitting bullets.
    The announcement of Boone’s presence seemed to catch the attention of every lowlife in the room. The judge asked that Boone rise and introduce himself, and when he hesitated, Zappolo whirled and glared at him.
    The judge said, “Where is our phantom hero, counselor?”
    Boone stood. “Detective Boone Drake, sir. Gang Enforcement Section, Organized Crime Division, Chicago PD.”
    Over a smattering of applause the judge said, “Allow me to thank you on behalf of a grateful city.”
    â€œMay I speak, Your Honor?”
    Zappolo shook his head, but the judge said, “The court would be honored to hear from you.”
    â€œIt happens that Ms. Lamonica and I care deeply for each other, and so it makes no sense that she would have had anything to do with endangering my life.”
    â€œThank you, sir,” the judge said. “Bail is set at one hundred thousand dollars, which I assume counsel has in his wallet.”
    Zappolo sprung to his feet. “A hundred thousand?”
    â€œSit down, counselor. Can’t a judge have a little fun? You realize how long it’s been since I’ve set any bond, let alone six figures? Make it ten grand, final offer.”
    Twenty minutes later, when Haeley emerged from the women’s locker room, she looked like a different woman. Her suit was wrinkled, and while she had done nothing more with her hair, she had apparently found her makeup. She still looked exhausted and pale, but nothing like at Cook County.
    She laid her head gently on Boone’s good shoulder and sighed.
    In the back of the Town Car she thanked Zappolo profusely and said she wanted to be driven to her car so she could rush to her son. “That’s fine,” the lawyer said, “as long as you know I am going to need a chunk of your time tomorrow.”
    It was after seven when Boone retrieved his own car and followed Haeley to her apartment—his department escorts not far behind. They waited out front.
    Max hugged his mother like he’d never let go and sat in her lap as Florence brought her up to date. “He’s not been happy,” the