by Keith Yocum
Judy sat forward in her chair.
“What do you mean? What did you do to her?”
“I lost it. I mean, I just lost control. It happens. She had no business doing that you.”
“Dennis, what did you do to her?”
“Louise?”
“Yes, of course, Louise!”
“I found where she lived. Then I followed her one day to a grocery store.”
“Dennis, that’s creepy!”
“Well, I just needed to confirm some things. God, she was tough. But I was prepared.”
Judy stood up and moved to sit next to him.
“Dennis,” she said. “Please tell me what you did to her.”
“Well, to get her to admit everything, I had to make her think I was crazy. I mean, real crazy. So I stained my face and hands with a yellowish bronze tanning solution.”
Judy looked confused.
“I told her I had liver failure and that it didn’t matter if I lived or died. That if she didn’t come clean I’d kill her.”
“Is your liver failing?”
“No, of course not.”
“But you threatened her?”
“Of course I did. I had a gun. Though to be honest, I don’t think she gave a shit about the gun.”
“Oh, God.” Judy fell back in her chair. “Oh, God, help me.”
“Well, the good news is that she told me everything, and it adds up. I get it. Clever stuff. I should have known that operations would plant people in our unit.”
Judy sat up again, grabbed Dennis’s right hand and folded her two hands around his. “Dennis, what did you do to Louise?”
“When?”
“When you confronted her. You said you had a gun.”
“Oh, that. Well, when she finally confirmed that she used you to deliver the message to Arnold, well, I lost it.”
“But what did you do to her?”
“I pulled out the stupid pistol, and before I knew what happened, I pulled the trigger.”
Judy fell back into the chair, covering her eyes with her both hands. She let out a little sound. “My God, Dennis. You killed her.”
Dennis grabbed her wrists and pulled them off her face.
“I didn’t kill her. Who told you I killed her?”
“You did!”
“I said I shot her in the forehead.”
She closed her eyes again and wiped away a small tear with her right hand.
“It was a squirt gun, for God’s sake.”
“A what?!” Judy shrieked. Several people nearby stopped and turned to look at them.
Dennis noticed their stares and tried to calm Judy.
“I didn’t tell you it was a squirt gun?”
“No!”
“Sorry. I bought one of those fancy, authentic-looking squirt guns. They’re illegal, but I found one online. The Chinese manufacture everything.”
“You didn’t kill her?”
“Why would I do that? I mean I admit to being really, really pissed off. But I wouldn’t kill Louise.”
Judy sprawled back in the chair, slouching awkwardly, and stared at the ceiling.
“So that was your plan, to threaten her into telling you everything? And then shoot her with a squirt gun?”
“No, silly. I didn’t intend to squirt her. It just happened at the end.”
“But she didn’t know it was a squirt gun?”
“Hell, no,” he said. “You should have seen her face when I pulled the trigger. We were in the back seat of her car.”
“What did she do?”
“When?”
“Damnit, Dennis, when you squirted her in the face! What did she do?”
“Ah, well. Something I never expected from her. Kind of caught me off guard.”
“What?”
“You know she’s not that big, right? Maybe five foot two?”
“Yes, I met her. Remember?”
“Yeah, right. Well, I just stuck the gun about two inches from her forehead, and the water hit her right there,” he said pointing to his forehead. “She jerked backward, then when she realized what had happened, she kind of closed her eyes and sat there for maybe five seconds.”
“That’s it?”
“No. Then she hit me. I still don’t know how she did it, because I swear I never saw it coming. Her fist caught me right under my chin and nearly knocked me out. I saw honest to God stars. Next thing I know, I’m on the ground next to her car and she’s peeling out of the parking lot. Some old man came over and asked if I needed help.”
Judy sat forward again and clasped Dennis’s right hand in her two hands. The two of them sat silently for several minutes, watching the muted doubles tennis match through the thick plate glass windows.
“Do you like tennis?” Dennis asked.
“Not particularly.”
“Neither do I,” he said. “Kind of boring.”
She gently rubbed his hand.
After several minutes of silence she said, “A squirt gun.”
“Yeah. I made one mistake, though.”
“And that would be?”
“I should have put ink in the gun instead of water.”
“Water was enough, Dennis.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
OTHER BOOKS FROM KEITH YOCUM
Color of Blood
(BOOK 1 OF THE DENNIS CUNNINGHAM SERIES)
Dennis is glad to be back at work. His wife’s death left him devastated but he’ll do anything to lose himself into work at the Inspector General’s office of the CIA. A brilliant, if prickly investigator, he’s spent his career chasing down the Agency’s thieves and liars. When his boss forces him to take a low-level assignment to investigate a missing employee in Australia, he soon finds that even in the red dust of the Outback, there is romance – and death – just a sweltering heartbeat away.
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“Very intelligent. Expertly written and suspenseful as hell. I can see this coming to a Multiplex near you pretty soon.” – Robin, Amazon review
“Awesome concept, title, cover. The writing is excellent. A great hook. What more can you ask for?” – Susan, Amazon review
“Yocum is an excellent story creator and teller and Color of Blood is definitely a top-of-the-pile find.” – Harry, Amazon review
“This book was different than other spy stories which made for a great read.” – Ian, Amazon review
“I love the thriller with unexpected ending. And this kept me intrigued until the end. I recommend it to everyone.” – Amparo, Amazon review
Daniel
STRANGE THINGS HAPPEN IN WAR – BUT THEN VIETNAM WAS ALWAYS DIFFERENT.
In January 1972, during the waning days of that sad war, a lone soldier crawled through the barbed wire and entered an isolated American firebase. He said his name was Daniel Carson, but could remember nothing else. A quick check found that a soldier with the same name and physical description was already buried at Arlington National Cemetery. So who was this new soldier named Daniel? Was he a crazy man, a common deserter or something else entirely? And why did he have such a profound effect on the unlucky company of grunts trying to survive the last days of the war? As a fierce regiment of North Vietnamese regulars prepare to destroy the forgotten hilltop firebase, the odd little soldier named Daniel seems to have all the answers to their survival. Several years after the war, three survivors of the firebase meet in Washington, D.C. and, almost by accident, discover the shocking truth about Daniel.
Can you figure out the mystery of Daniel?
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“If you like Dan Brown and Michael Crichton’s style of historical/ mystery/supernatural well researched and fact-checked kind of writing, you’ll like Keith Yocum’s “Daniel”, a novel
set on the last functional firebase at the end of the Viet Nam war.” – Amazon review
“I made the mistake of picking it up “for a few minutes” with about a third remaining unread one night when I was having difficulty sleeping at 2AM, and finished it at 6AM because I had to see if the author could resolve the mystery. He did, I wasn’t disappointed, and you won’t be either.” – Amazon review
“This book was on my “recommended” list for a long time. Finally, for $2.99 who could resist. I can honestly say this is one of the best books I have ever read, and I have been reading voraciously for over sixty years.” – Amazon review
“Haunting and intense, this book will stay with me for a long time.” – Amazon review
“I’m not a Viet Nam vet, but I am an Iraq vet, and this work does a great job of depicting the chaos and confusion of armed conflict to my standards.” – Amazon review
“I missed the fact that it is a true story. I just thought it was a well done novel based on the thoughts of a creative writer. I was pleased with the story and amazed that it was true. It is fascinating.” – Amazon review
Titus
A Union soldier is found dead on the outskirts of camp, his neck sliced open from ear to ear. But when another and yet another soldier is found with his throat slit, an uneasy mood falls over the Union regiment.
Who is killing these soldiers, and what does the strange mark on the dead men’s foreheads mean? A young Union lieutenant and an eccentric field surgeon are ordered to get to the bottom of the killings. Can the two officers unmask the killer’s identity and motive before the fog of battle hides his identity forever?
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“Well written, it kept my interest through out the book. Great ending” – Ron, Amazon Customer
“It was a damn good mystery, with a bit of horror thrown in too boot” – Todd, Amazon Customer
KEITH YOCUM is a novelist living on Cape Cod. His career has oriented around publications and digital businesses. He has worked for The Boston Globe and The New England Journal of Medicine. He was also the founder NewsWest, a chain of local newspapers in the Boston area that was sold to a competitor in the late 1980s. He is the author of four novels and welcomes feedback at www.keithyocum.com.