Women with Weapons

By Jim Woods

Three separate women with separate stories; all with guns, all with a mission. Marlene as “The Husband Hunter” had a husband but couldn’t keep him, but found him after years and a global search, and then didn’t want him... alive.  Veronica simply was misguided; her sole and desperate interest was protection of her fa

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gypsy Shadow Publishing
• Release date: Mar 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781619505964

Jim Woods

Jim Woods is the co-author of two bestselling books: Ready Aim Fire and Focus Booster. He is a productivity enthusiast and loves helping others reach their goals and live great lives. When not writing, you can likely find Jim at a coffee shop curled up with his Mac watching Youtube videos or reading a book.

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Contents

Copyright Page

The Stories

The Husband Hunter

The Streetwalker’s Price

A Gun in the House

About the Author

Women With Weapons

A Crime Trilogy

by Jim Woods

All rights reserved

Copyright © February 2012, James M. Woods

Cover Art Copyright © 2012, Charlotte Holley

Gypsy Shadow Publishing, Inc.

Lockhart, TX

www.gypsyshadow.com

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Gypsy Shadow Publishing, Inc.

ISBN: 978-1-61950-596-4

Published in the United States of America

First eBook Edition: February 29, 2012

The Stories

The Husband Hunter had one but couldn’t keep him, then found him after years and a global search; but then didn’t want him… alive.

A person of the street can be largely ignored or be vulnerable to violence, but for the goodwill service provided, The Streetwalker’s Price, can be negotiable.

A Gun in the House can offer a sense of security and comfort, and protection against intruders, but not all the threat comes from outside the home.

The Husband Hunter

What do you mean, she screamed, there’s nothing the police can do? He stole my money! Don’t you understand? My husband took all my money from my IRA and he’s gone. Run off. With my money; a hundred thousand dollars! That’s robbery. He’s a thief! Why can’t you do something?

Ma’am, please control yourself. Shouting and abuse don’t help matters. There is no indication of theft here. Now I suggest you take this up with your bank, or perhaps your lawyer can do something for you as a civil matter, but there is nothing pointing to a crime in what you’ve told us. I’m sorry, Missus Tucker, this simply is not a police matter.

Marlene Tucker was shocked beyond tears. She had to make the trip to Missouri; Aunt Catherine became ill and no other family member could, or would, make the effort to attend her. First the hospital in Kansas City for four days and then more than two weeks at Aunt Catherine’s home, nursing her back to self-sufficiency. Bedpan duty. Nursemaid. Cook. Housekeeper. Marlene didn’t mind, at first; she loved her aunt. Now she hated her.

Philip telephoned her daily, or she him, and sometimes both ways. He was supportive, or seemed so. Said he missed her. She assured him she’d be home soon, but had to be truthful; her care to Aunt Catherine was going to run into weeks, maybe even a month. He’d muddle through, Philip assured her, You take care of Aunt Catherine; I’ll take care of things here.

Oh, he took care of things all right! Philip hadn’t called her at her aunt’s home for the past three days, and he didn’t answer when she called him. Marlene was fearful Philip had an accident, or a heart attack. Finally she had to leave her aunt on her own and she rushed home to Portland expecting the worst—and found it, but not at all what she dreaded. Philip was not at the house. The houseplants were dry and wilted. Philip’s car was in the garage; his key ring on the hook near the front door. The front door was not locked; the security alarm was not set. Marlene could not say what prompted her to look in Philip’s closet. Some of his clothes remained, but most of them were gone. Philip was gone. She went to his underwear and socks drawers. Mostly empty. Fear turned to trembling understanding, to anger, to rage,