{"product_id":"silent-justice-isbn-9780345428134","title":"Silent Justice","description":"When a powerful corporation is charged with dumping toxic chemicals into a community's drinking water and killing innocent children, Ben Kincaid knows the class action suit is a suicide mission. Facing off against the small Kincaid staff is Tulsa's largest law firm. Challenging Ben in the courtroom is the firm's fabled top gun--not to mention a hot-headed judge with a notorious soft spot for big business. But as Ben prepares for legal battle, a sadistic killer strikes. With each gruesome murder, a terrifying connection is more deeply drawn between Ben's quest for justice and another man's relentless hunt for the spoils of his own private--and very dirty--war.\"A FAST-PACED, ENJOYABLE MYSTERY . . . BERNHARDT JUST GETS BETTER AND BETTER.\"\u003cbr\u003e--The Daily Oklahoman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"IT'S HARD NOT TO LIKE [BERNHARDT'S] FEISTY MAIN CHARACTER.\"\u003cbr\u003e--Chicago TribuneWilliam Bernhardt is the author of thirteen books, including Primary Justice, Blind Justice, Deadly Justice, Perfect Justice, Double Jeopardy, Cruel Justice, and Naked Justice--which led Library Journal to dub the author \"master of the courtroom drama.\" His newest novel is Murder One. He has twice won the Oklahoma Book Award for Best Fiction. A former trial attorney, Bernhardt has received several awards for his public service, and in 1993 he was named one of the top twenty-five young lawyers in the nation. He lives in Tulsa with his wife, Kirsten, and their children, Harry and Alice.* Six Months Before *\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWho let him in here? Ben Kincaid wondered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe peered across the study quad at the scruffy-looking\u003cbr\u003eolder man hovering near the front double doors to the University\u003cbr\u003eof Tulsa College of Law. Ben's attention was drawn by\u003cbr\u003ethe fact that the man was wearing a long overcoat; it was ill-fitting,\u003cbr\u003ewrinkled, and stained. The man's chin was covered\u003cbr\u003ewith salt-and-pepper stubble. His eyes were red and ringed,\u003cbr\u003eas if he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. He was\u003cbr\u003elooking for something, or someone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen couldn't imagine who or what that might be. The man\u003cbr\u003edid not look as if he belonged here. Even the lawyers-to-be\u003cbr\u003ewith the most rudimentary grasp of personal hygiene did not\u003cbr\u003erise to this level of dishevelment. Ben wondered if maybe the\u003cbr\u003eman had gotten lost on his way to . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo what? The homeless shelter? Come to think of it, there\u003cbr\u003ewasn't anyone or anything anywhere on the TU campus that\u003cbr\u003ewas likely to welcome this visitor. Ben wondered if he should\u003cbr\u003eask the man what he wanted. Or perhaps whisper a word into\u003cbr\u003ethe ear of Stanley Robinson, the security guard he'd just seen\u003cbr\u003eoutside the dean's office.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen was distracted by a petite, attractive woman making\u003cbr\u003eher way toward him. She had a creamy complexion perfectly\u003cbr\u003eaccented by two tiny patches of freckles on either side\u003cbr\u003eof her aquiline nose. Her engaging gait not only spoke of extreme\u003cbr\u003eself-confidence but, as an added bonus, did remarkable\u003cbr\u003ethings to the curly strawberry-blond hair dancing just above\u003cbr\u003eher shoulders. As she sidled up to Ben, he admired her crazy-quilt\u003cbr\u003eminiskirt, which had more colors than a jumbo box of\u003cbr\u003eCrayolas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen arched an eyebrow. \"Is that a dress or a cry for help?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChristina McCall didn't bridle. \"It's ethnic chic. I'll have\u003cbr\u003eyou know this pattern is all the rage in Mozambique.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Is that a fact?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It is.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I haven't kept up with Mozambiquii fashion trends the\u003cbr\u003eway I used to.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"More's the pity.\" Christina tilted her head back, sending her\u003cbr\u003ehair bouncing behind her shoulders. \"I hear you're teaching\u003cbr\u003eThe Tiger's class this afternoon.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"True.\" Although Ben had been practicing law for years,\u003cbr\u003eonly recently had he begun teaching classes at the local law\u003cbr\u003eschool as an adjunct professor. As he had quickly learned,\u003cbr\u003eThe Tiger was Professor Joseph Canino, a curmudgeonly\u003cbr\u003eIchabod Crane who'd been teaching Civil Procedure since the\u003cbr\u003edawn of time. \"Apparently he was called away at the last moment.\u003cbr\u003eSome kind of emergency.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Probably heard of a law student somewhere he hadn't\u003cbr\u003epublicly humiliated and rushed off to remedy the omission.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Quite possible.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I don't know where such a student might be, though.\u003cbr\u003eMozambique, perhaps.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen smiled. Professor Canino was of the old school; he\u003cbr\u003eused the Socratic method like a dagger to slit the throats of\u003cbr\u003ethe unwary or unwitting. \"I gather you're in this class?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChristina had worked as Ben's legal assistant for as long as\u003cbr\u003ehe'd been in solo practice in Tulsa. Two years before, she'd decided\u003cbr\u003eto expand her horizons and start law school. Since they\u003cbr\u003eworked together and knew each other personally, they both\u003cbr\u003eagreed it was best that she not be in any of Ben's regular\u003cbr\u003eclasses. But it looked like this morning they were going to be\u003cbr\u003ein the same classroom whether they liked it or not.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I am,\" she replied. \"So don't be cruel.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'll try to restrain myself.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChristina scampered off toward class, leaving Ben to admire\u003cbr\u003eonce again her seemingly inexhaustible high spirits. It had\u003cbr\u003ebeen almost ten years since Ben finished law school, but it\u003cbr\u003ehadn't been so long that he'd forgotten how much he'd hated\u003cbr\u003eit. Egomaniacal professors, arbitrary subjective grading, unrelenting\u003cbr\u003epressure to succeed, unrestrained favoritism--a hideous\u003cbr\u003egauntlet one was required to run in order to practice the\u003cbr\u003eworld's least respected profession. What a deal.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs Ben crossed the study quad, he observed that most\u003cbr\u003eof the students' sentiments were aligned with his own, not\u003cbr\u003eChristina's. The sweaty brows and twisted grimaces of those\u003cbr\u003epurporting to study told him that law school had not changed\u003cbr\u003emuch over the past decade.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn a carrel just off the main hallway, Ben spotted the\u003cbr\u003egrizzled man in the overcoat he'd seen near the front doors.\u003cbr\u003eWhat was he doing? Certainly not studying; he wasn't even\u003cbr\u003ecarrying a book. His eyes were still roaming about. Who was\u003cbr\u003ehe expecting to see?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOr maybe he had it wrong, Ben reasoned. Maybe his first\u003cbr\u003eimpression had been correct. Perhaps the man was homeless\u003cbr\u003eand he was just looking for a place to lie down where security\u003cbr\u003eguards wouldn't hassle him. Ben considered recommending\u003cbr\u003eone of the cushioned sofas in the library. It was quiet in there,\u003cbr\u003eand if he covered his face with his hands, the staff would take\u003cbr\u003ehim for another student who had fallen asleep while reading\u003cbr\u003ethe rapturous words of the distinguished Learned Hand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Which class did you draw this time?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen turned and saw Professor John Matthews, the leading\u003cbr\u003etort law expert in the state of Oklahoma. He'd written\u003cbr\u003etexts and hornbooks on the subject; he was the unquestioned\u003cbr\u003eauthority.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm filling in for The Tiger.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMatthews stroked his beard and smiled. \"Ah. Lucky man.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"How do you figure?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If those kids are expecting to see The Tiger walk through\u003cbr\u003ethat door, they'll be virtually orgasmic when they see anyone\u003cbr\u003eelse. Even you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You sure know how to flatter a guy, John.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMatthews laughed and headed down the corridor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen entered the classroom. All at once, the students fell\u003cbr\u003esilent, shifted around, and turned their eyes front and center.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat a marvelous ego trip, Ben thought, not for the first\u003cbr\u003etime. This must be how judges feel when they enter the\u003cbr\u003ecourtroom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe classroom was designed in the Greek theater style:\u003cbr\u003ethree tiers of elevated seats and continuous tabletops formed\u003cbr\u003ea semicircle around the podium, which was on the lowest\u003cbr\u003elevel. Ben took his place in the center, opened his teacher's\u003cbr\u003eedition of the textbook, and started.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"My name's Ben Kincaid, and I'm filling in for Professor\u003cbr\u003eCanino this morning, as I expect most of you already know.\u003cbr\u003eSo let's get to it. Who can tell me what a JNOV is?\" He\u003cbr\u003eglanced at his seating chart. \"Mr. Brunner?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA middle-sized man in his early twenties pushed himself\u003cbr\u003eunhappily to his feet. \"Uh . . . what were those letters again?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"JNOV,\" Ben repeated, enunciating clearly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"JNOV,\" Brunner repeated thoughtfully. \"Is that a rock\u003cbr\u003eband?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere was a tittering of laughter throughout the classroom.\u003cbr\u003eThis would never happen if The Tiger were present, Ben\u003cbr\u003eknew. Apparently Ben had a less imposing reputation. He\u003cbr\u003ewondered what his nickname was. The Titmouse, perhaps.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"No, Mr. Brunner, you must be thinking of Run-DMC. Or\u003cbr\u003eperhaps, ELO, if you're as old as I am.\" He turned his attention\u003cbr\u003eto the rest of the classroom. \"Who can tell me what a\u003cbr\u003eJNOV is?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe first hand up rose above a very familiar head of red\u003cbr\u003ehair. Ben supposed he was obliged to call on her. She\u003cbr\u003eshouldn't be penalized for knowing the substitute prof. \"Ms.\u003cbr\u003eMcCall?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChristina bounced to her feet. \"A JNOV is a judgment\u003cbr\u003enotwithstanding the verdict.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Excellent.\" Ben put a little check mark beneath her name\u003cbr\u003eon the seating chart. He had no idea what, if anything, The\u003cbr\u003eTiger planned to do with these check marks, but Christina\u003cbr\u003ehad certainly earned hers. \"And what does that mean?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It means that after the jury delivers its verdict, the judge\u003cbr\u003emay set it aside.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You're two for two, Ms. McCall. On what grounds may\u003cbr\u003ethe judge disregard the jury's verdict?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Well . . . it looks to me like the judge can do it on just\u003cbr\u003eabout any legal grounds he wants. Anything the judge believes\u003cbr\u003ecalls the verdict into question.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"That's exactly right.\" Ben's eyes swept across the three\u003cbr\u003eraised tiers of seats. \"There's a lesson to be learned here, future\u003cbr\u003eadvocates--one you must never forget. In the courtroom,\u003cbr\u003ethe judge is King of the Forest. So try not to cross him or her.\"\u003cbr\u003eHe glanced down at his notes. \"Ms. McCall, could you give\u003cbr\u003eme the facts of Conrad versus Richmond Pharmaceuticals?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo his surprise, Ben saw that she was no longer looking at\u003cbr\u003ehim. Her eyes had diverted toward the door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe glanced over his shoulder. It was that shabby man in the\u003cbr\u003eovercoat--the homeless man, or whatever he was. He was\u003cbr\u003epeering through the glass in the door, the expression in his\u003cbr\u003eeyes strange and intense.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat was his problem? Ben wondered. He was definitely\u003cbr\u003ebeginning to regret not reporting the man to Security. Something\u003cbr\u003eabout the sight of him lurking outside the door was\u003cbr\u003eunsettling.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen turned back around and cleared his throat. \"The case,\u003cbr\u003eMs. McCall?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Oh. Right. Sorry.\" She glanced down at her textbook.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Conrad was a woman who had been advised to use a new\u003cbr\u003esedative manufactured by Richmond while she was pregnant.\u003cbr\u003eTurned out the drug had serious side effects, although that did\u003cbr\u003enot become apparent for--\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen heard the click of the door behind him. The man in the\u003cbr\u003eovercoat was entering the classroom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Can I help you?\" Ben said, not doing a very good job of\u003cbr\u003emasking his irritation. Somehow he knew The Tiger would\u003cbr\u003enever tolerate such an intrusion.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man kept walking until he was far too close to Ben for\u003cbr\u003ecomfort. His breath reeked; Ben detected traces of several diverse\u003cbr\u003emeals and perhaps some alcohol as well. His body was\u003cbr\u003enot much better; the smell rising from beneath that coat was\u003cbr\u003eso pronounced Ben almost winced.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe stranger spoke in a quiet, hushed voice. \"You the\u003cbr\u003eprofessor?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm trying to be,\" Ben said, with an edge that could cut\u003cbr\u003ebutter. \"What is it you want?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You know what I want.\" The man stepped even closer and\u003cbr\u003ewhispered in Ben's ear. \"Is the merchandise secure?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You heard me. Is it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm afraid I must ask you to leave.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Not until you tell me what I want to know.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen's irritation was augmented by the feeling that he was\u003cbr\u003elosing control of the classroom. \"Sir, once again, I must insist\u003cbr\u003ethat you leave.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Answer me!\" The hush was gone; the man's voice swelled.\u003cbr\u003e\"Is the merchandise secure?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I don't know what you're talking about.\" Ben looked at\u003cbr\u003eChristina, then jerked his head toward the door. Intuitive as\u003cbr\u003eever, she received the message and started for help.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Is it secure?\" The man's breathing accelerated. Sweat\u003cbr\u003etrickled down the sides of his grimy face. \"Is it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOut of the corner of his eye, the man saw Christina making\u003cbr\u003eher way toward the door. \"Stop!\" he shouted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChristina did not stop. On the contrary, she picked up\u003cbr\u003ethe pace.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the blink of an eye, the man reached beneath his wrinkled\u003cbr\u003eovercoat. Less than a blink later, he was holding a sawed-off\u003cbr\u003eshotgun in his hands, cocked and ready to fire. \"I said, stop!\"\u003cbr\u003eChristina froze in place, obviously unsure what to do next.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShrieks pealed out of the gallery. Some of the students\u003cbr\u003erose; some of them ducked under the desks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"He's got a gun!\" someone cried.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"He's crazy!\" shouted someone else. Frenzied confusion\u003cbr\u003efollowed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDamn! Ben thought. Where had that shotgun come from?\u003cbr\u003eThis man was crazier than he'd thought--and more dangerous,\u003cbr\u003etoo.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen took a hesitant step forward. \"Now, look, let's stay\u003cbr\u003ecalm.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man whipped the sawed-off around so it was pointed\u003cbr\u003eat Ben's face. \"Stay back! Stay away from me!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSomeone in the rear of the classroom screamed, a loud,\u003cbr\u003eear-piercing cry that sent chills down Ben's spine. The\u003cbr\u003estranger faded back till he was pressed against the chalk-board.\u003cbr\u003eHe panned back and forth with the weapon, assuring\u003cbr\u003eeveryone present that they were within his line of sight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen felt his knees beginning to tremble, but he tried to\u003cbr\u003eblock that out of his mind. He was in charge in here--in\u003cbr\u003etheory, anyway. If anyone had a chance of bringing this maniac\u003cbr\u003earound, it was him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe took a cautious step toward the man. \"Please stay calm.\u003cbr\u003eI'm sure we can find out whatever it is you want--\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Stay back, I said!\" The man pressed forward, his eyes\u003cbr\u003ewild and crazed. \"Don't think I won't fire. I will! I got\u003cbr\u003enothing left to lose!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBehind him, Ben saw Christina quietly roll back into action.\u003cbr\u003eShe was trying to take advantage of the momentary diversion\u003cbr\u003eof the stranger's attention to slip out the door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo! Ben tried to send her an unspoken message with\u003cbr\u003ehis eyes. But it was no use. Christina kept edging toward\u003cbr\u003ethe door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I warned you!\" the man bellowed as he whirled around\u003cbr\u003ewith his shotgun--and fired.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen's heart stopped at the report of the shotgun, like a\u003cbr\u003esonic boom in the small classroom. The shot hit the wall just\u003cbr\u003eabove Christina's head, spewing plaster and chalky dust all\u003cbr\u003eover her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChristina threw up her hands. \"All right! I'm not moving!\u003cbr\u003eI'm not moving!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe intruder rushed toward her, gun still at the ready. He\u003cbr\u003egrabbed her by the hair, wrapped it around his fist, then\u003cbr\u003eshoved her back against the wall, hard.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMore of the students shrieked as Christina's head slammed\u003cbr\u003eagainst the wall. Her eyes batted rapidly as she struggled to\u003cbr\u003emaintain consciousness.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Don't hurt her!\" Ben shouted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man with the gun stepped back, bringing Ben into his\u003cbr\u003eline of sight. \"I can hurt all of you. I will hurt all of you. If you\u003cbr\u003edon't tell me what I want to know!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe fired the gun again, this time into the ceiling. Ben\u003cbr\u003educked behind the podium. This man was insane, Ben\u003cbr\u003ethought grimly. He had to be. And he couldn't count on reasoning\u003cbr\u003ewith a man who had no reason. They were all in\u003cbr\u003edeadly danger.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Fine,\" Ben said, choking on the plaster dust that filled the\u003cbr\u003eair. \"Fine. I'll tell you anything. Anything. Just ask.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man's teeth were clenched tightly together. \"I already\u003cbr\u003edid! Is the merchandise secure?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen stretched out his hands. \"I don't know what you're\u003cbr\u003etalking about!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man fired the gun again, this time near Ben's feet. \"Is\u003cbr\u003ethe merchandise secure?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Yes!\" Ben shouted. \"Yes! It is! It's so secure--you\u003cbr\u003ewouldn't believe how secure it is.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man rushed toward him. He grabbed Ben's lapel and\u003cbr\u003eshook him. \"You're lying to me!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm not! I don't know anything about your . . . merchandise!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere was a momentary flicker in the man's steely gaze, as\u003cbr\u003eif a new thought was being processed for the first time. \"Isn't\u003cbr\u003ethis your classroom?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Yes, but . . .\" Ben's lips parted. \"Do you think I'm Professor\u003cbr\u003eCanino? Because I'm not.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You're not? But you said--\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm filling in for him. I'm a substitute teacher.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man stepped away from Ben, slowly and cautiously,\u003cbr\u003ekeeping his wild eyes on the entire classroom, daring anyone\u003cbr\u003eto move.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis retreat was interrupted by the clattering of footsteps\u003cbr\u003ejust outside the door. Security, Ben saw through the window.\u003cbr\u003eThank God. Stanley must've heard the shots.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThree security officers started through the doors, including\u003cbr\u003eStanley. As soon as Stanley saw the man holding the shot-gun,\u003cbr\u003ehe drew his own weapon. Ben feared there would be a\u003cbr\u003eshoot-out--and then he realized it was going to be something\u003cbr\u003eelse, something far worse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man with the shotgun grabbed the back of Christina's\u003cbr\u003ehead and shoved her forward, using her as a human shield.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Stand back! I'll shoot her! I will!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe three security officers froze.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Drop your guns!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen could well imagine what was going through Stanley's\u003cbr\u003emind. Normally, cops were taught never to relinquish their\u003cbr\u003eweapons. But Stanley wasn't a cop. What's more, the man\u003cbr\u003ewith the shotgun was acting crazy. They might be able to talk\u003cbr\u003ehim down, prevent him from doing anything brutal. But if\u003cbr\u003ethey continued to threaten the man now, he would probably\u003cbr\u003eexplode--and Christina would be caught in the fallout.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith evident reluctance, Stanley laid his pistol on the floor.\u003cbr\u003eThe other security officers did the same. The man with the\u003cbr\u003eshotgun rushed forward, pushing Christina ahead all the way,\u003cbr\u003etill he had recovered the weapons and shoved them into one\u003cbr\u003eof his outer coat pockets. \"Now, get out of here! Now!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStanley tried to maintain a calm demeanor. \"Couldn't I\u003cbr\u003estay and talk? I know you don't really want to hurt anyone.\u003cbr\u003eWhy don't we--\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe gun exploded in Stanley's face. The shot struck just\u003cbr\u003eover and behind him, splattering the wall. Stanley ducked,\u003cbr\u003ehorrified, clutching the side of his face. The shot had come so\u003cbr\u003eclose it had singed his cheek.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Now get out of here!\" the man screamed. \"Now! Now!\u003cbr\u003eNow!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis time the security guards left, including Stanley. After\u003cbr\u003ethe door closed, the man with the shotgun whipped around.\u003cbr\u003eHe shoved Christina down to the floor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Nobody moves! Nobody goes anywhere! We're all staying\u003cbr\u003eright here until I get what I want!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBen rushed to Christina's side. He took her hand and\u003cbr\u003ehelped her up. \"How are you?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChristina shrugged. \"I'm fine, damn it.\" She gazed at the\u003cbr\u003emaniac with the shotgun. \"Wish I'd moved a little faster.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You and me both.\" Ben helped her to an empty seat in the\u003cbr\u003efront row. He had a sinking feeling they were both going to be\u003cbr\u003ehere for a good long while.","brand":"Ballantine Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300388557029,"sku":"NP9780345428134","price":7.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345428134.jpg?v=1767736623","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/silent-justice-isbn-9780345428134","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}