Runaway Tide: A Chase Gordon Tropical Thriller (Chase Gordon Tropical Thrillers Book 4) by Douglas Pratt

Author:Douglas Pratt [Pratt, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

19

Christian stepped off the elevator on the third floor of the Panama City Municipal Building. Judge David Becker’s courtroom was situated on the backside of the building. Since the courtrooms were windowless, their placement in the building didn’t matter. However, the judge’s chambers which adjoined the courtroom created a heinous feat of organization. Each judge wanted an office view relative to their status. If one of the others in the building garnered a superior view, all hell would break loose.

While Christian understood the importance of stroking the egos of bureaucrats like Becker, he wasn’t here for niceties. Decisions had to be made. Initially, he viewed Rolton and Becker as manageable risks. Once Seine was removed from the picture, the others shouldn’t be an issue. Of course, that plan was crumbling around him.

Jacobson was dead, beheaded, and burned beyond recognition after flipping in a stolen Donzi. The aftermath of a public shootout on the streets of Miami was creating an ever-growing issue. National media was on the scene covering the incident, and the former Army colonel’s death was fueling the flames of speculation.

So far, the media and police hadn’t identified Seine or Gordon despite connecting several of the bodies they left behind to the military. Christian learned from a source that a Miami Police detective had connected two of the bodies to the same Army unit. Without Jacobson to control the information, Christian wasn’t sure how long it would take to piece together who each of the corpses was.

He was insulated. It was more a matter of inconvenience.

When Christian approached the chamber door, he paused, considering whether to knock or barge straight in. Tactics mattered. He made a split decision to harness control over the judge.

The door swung open, and Christian stormed through the outer office past a pretty young law clerk the judge was certainly bedding.

“Can I help you?” she tried to interject as the fixer blew past her.

The second door led to the judge’s chamber where the adjudicator sat behind a dark brown mahogany desk. The judge was in his early 50s, and despite the addition of a soft middle over the years, he was relatively thin.

“Who the hell are you?” Becker demanded, rising to his feet.

“Sit down, Judge,” Christian ordered, shutting the door behind him.

Instead, Becker reached for the phone, no doubt to call security.

“Let’s talk about Peter Garrison,” Christian suggested as he took the seat across from the judge’s desk.

The name took almost five seconds to register with Becker. Once it dawned on him, Becker froze in place.

“Why don’t you tell your girl everything is fine?”

The judge nodded, lifting the phone. “Samantha, hold my calls for a bit,” he told her through the phone.

When he hung up, his eyes turned toward Christian. “Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Christian informed him. “What you want to know is how I can help you.”

This was a calculated risk on Christian’s part. Becker had far more clout than Rolton, and rather than removing them both from the field, he preferred to pocket the judge’s influence.

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