Unlawful Chase by C.J. Schnier (read ebook pdf .TXT) 📕

asked, but Lurch ignored me. "Yeah, there is no way this job is legal," I thought as we changed directions again.

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The ride lasted only a short while before we were touching down on a concrete pad with a giant white "H" stenciled on it. Nearby, a path led through a copse of red hibiscus and azalea flowers, winding its way towards a house. No, house was the wrong word. The building looked more like a museum than a residence.

Statues of various beasts and gods, some of which were familiar, others that were totally alien to me, surrounded a wide flagstone courtyard. The house surrounded the courtyard on three sides, forming an elongated horseshoe shape. Extending from one wing to the other, a large pool bisected the entire stone patio as if someone had torn a wall down and replaced with a luxurious moat of sparkling water. Two stone bridges crossed the pool, allowing access to the house proper. Beyond these were large stone arches set into the main walls of the building.

Each of these stood open with a matching arch on the far side of the building. The twin archways had the effect of creating an effective breezeway, and the fronds of the many tropical plants sprouting from their pots and planters scattered throughout the ground floor rustled audibly.

"It's impressive isn't it?" Lurch said, pointing towards the house, "Mr. Pruitt will meet with you shortly. Please, make yourself at home while I tell him you are here."

In awe of the place, I shuffled across the larger of the stone bridges, noticing the small army of gardeners working on the grounds and the less conspicuous armed guards watching from the crenulated second story roof. Whoever this Pruitt guy was, he was important. Or at least he thought he was. It was a lot of muscle for a private citizen. I'd seen foreign diplomats have weaker security.

I poked my head in through an arch. The open ground floor housed several well furnished sitting areas, each with an expensive-looking rug and an assortment of artifacts or statues. In fact, every piece in the room seemed to be some sort of antique or rarity. Ivory elephant tusks, Egyptian god statues, a silk kimono draped over a mannequin, and a set of full plate armor were among the eclectic collection.

A pair of flintlock pistols in a glass and ebony wood case caught my attention. The level of craftsmanship was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Intricate silver and gold adorned every surface, including the striker and the trigger. Several coats of arms stood out against the glossy dark wood, each with such fine detail even the greatest of jewelers would have a tough time replicating them.

"They're quite the pair, aren't they?" A reedy voice exclaimed from behind my right shoulder. I spun around to see a flamboyantly dressed waif of a man walking towards me. "A man named Samuel Brunn made them, and they once belonged to the British Royal Family. How they came into my possession is quite the tale."

"I've never seen anything so exquisite. They must have cost you a fortune. Mr. Pruitt, is it?" I asked.

"Indeed, you're right on both accounts. They were quite costly and I am, in fact, Mr. Pruitt. Adrian Pruitt, to be exact. And you are Chase Hawkins. A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," I said, holding my hand out, which the thin man grasped immediately. "Though with a house like this, I almost expected you to introduce yourself as Don Pruitt," I added dryly.

"Hardly. I'm not Spanish. Now, let's cut to the chase, if you'll pardon the expression. I'm sure you are wondering why I have summoned you here."

"Well, your errand boy wasn't exactly a fount of information. He didn't leave me too many options on the matter either. How do you even know who I am?"

Pruitt looked offended, "Why, I know all about you, Captain Hawkins. And I am certain you are just the sort of man I need for a very delicate job."

"I'm afraid that doesn't answer my question, Mr. Pruitt. I must ask you again, before we go any farther, how did you come across my name?"

"From my good friend Senator Valentine, of course. He once told me how you helped him win his election bid, I must admit it intrigued me. Enough so that I did a bit of research on my own. I was most impressed by what I discovered. You have a certain talent for getting the impossible done, and from what I've been told, you stick to your own moral compass. Both qualities I look for in a contractor."

Valentine was a name I had not wanted to hear again. I helped him frame a political rival a little over a year ago. My job had been to steal his rival's yacht from his waterside mansion on Lake Boca. Valentine had paid me handsomely for my trouble. Unfortunately, I owed it all to a drug cartel and never got to enjoy the money.

"The job I did for Valentine was a onetime deal. Stealing super yachts isn't exactly normal for me. I'd prefer to stay out of trouble."

"Wouldn't we all," he said with a chuckle. "No, I don't want you to steal a boat, and I won't ask you to run drugs like you did for Santiago Acosta and his cartel. Though if I'm being honest, this job isn't exactly legal. But that is why I'm willing to pay so much."

"Like I said, Mr. Pruitt, I want to stay on the right side of the law. The last time I strayed to the shady side of life, I lost someone I loved. No, I'm afraid you're wasting your time. That moral compass you mentioned is pointing away from you right now. I'm sorry if I wasted your time."

"Tell me, Captain Hawkins, which way was your moral compass pointing when you were running drugs for a Cuban cartel? Where was it when you stole a politician's yacht for his competitor, knowing it would