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help. That’s the only way I can make this make sense.”
    â€œThat’s a stretch, Jack,” Boone said as Keller rose. “Haeley helping Fox?”
    â€œDo me a favor, Boones. Hard as this is, stay here a couple more days; let me come and get you when it’s time to go home. Find Haeley a lawyer and get her out of there, but don’t do anything stupid. Stay under the radar. And I’ll get you out to see PC before your surgery. Okay?”
    â€œNo promises.”
    â€œHow about if I make it an order?”
    Boone shook his head. “Still no promises. You know I don’t want to do anything that could hurt you, but I’ve already lost one family. I’m not about to let anything happen to my next one.”
    11:00 a.m.
    As soon as Keller was gone, Boone began planning the most inconspicuous time to make his break. He needed a lawyer for Haeley, but he also needed to get out of the hospital. He wasn’t doing her any good here.
    Money would be no object. Fritz Zappolo was the most impressive criminal defense attorney Boone had ever come across. He’d try to get an appointment with him, then have lunch in his hospital room. Then, before his tray was removed, he’d have the uniformed cops escort him to his car. With luck, no one would even question them.
    While his cell did not work within the hospital, Boone was able to access his contacts and find a phone number for Zappolo. But as he was reaching for the landline phone, it rang.
    â€œThis is Boone.”
    â€œMr. Drake. This is Brigita Velna. Remember me?”
    â€œOf course.” How could he forget the CPD counselor he’d had to meet with after losing his family?
    â€œYou can’t seem to keep yourself out of trouble, can you?”
    Boone appreciated the humor in her voice. “No, ma’am. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”
    â€œI’ve drawn the short straw again and have been assigned to meet with you. When’s convenient for you?”
    He told her of his upcoming surgery. She suggested that as soon as he was mobile after that he should make an appointment with her.
    â€œWill do. But you’re not going to try to talk me into full disability, are you?”
    â€œFrankly, Officer, you’d be crazy not to take it. But no, that is not my role. My job is to protect the interests of the department. If I determine that that means reassigning you, that will be my recommendation. I look forward to meeting with you again. Everyone is most proud of you, and I must say, you have gone from a terrible low to a most impressive high. I hope you’re well.”
    Low to high to low was the truth, but he wasn’t about to get into it. He promised to call Ms. Velna after surgery. Before he was able to call Zappolo, however, a nurse breezed in to check on him.
    â€œYou ought to be watching the news,” she said. “Just saw it on channel 9. Your shooter turned out to be a member of some funny-named coalition of street gangs. Dee-something.”
    â€œThe DiLoKi Brotherhood?”
    â€œThat’s it!” she said. “Mean anything to you?”
    â€œMeans everything. No surprise, but it is telling.”

6
    Fritz
    Boone called Friedrich Zappolo’s office just before lunch was to be delivered and insisted on talking with the man himself. The receptionist went into a long riff about how that was not the way things worked, that one of the legal assistants evaluated potential clients and determined whether Mr. Zappolo would become personally involved. “And then—and only then—you might land an appointment with him.”
    Boone wanted to ask why it seemed easier to get an audience with God, but rather he said, “He knows me. Please tell him my name.”
    â€œHe knows everybody, sir.”
    That was hard to argue. Most cops had been cross-examined by Fritz Zappolo at least once. Boone had squared off with him three times.
    â€œTell