Terror Times Three

By Stephen M. DeBock

NIGHT SWEATS: Geoff has covered over a horrible crime he committed as a youth. But sometimes the past just won’t stay buried. MAYA: An exotic Latin beauty brings her American lover back to her Mexican village to receive her family’s blessing. His welcome exceeds his expectations. But it includes something he never unexpected. SEED: When all the women in the pre-colonial village become pregnant overnight, the only explanation is that a witch lives among them. The village pastor, son of a witchfinder, is tasked to find her. Multiple accusations and executions follow. But when all the babies are born deformed on the same day, and die that same night, the panicked villagers demand an accounting for their pastor’s failures.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Mar 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781619506817

Stephen M. DeBock

Stephen M. DeBock's first writing award came at age 17, when a 25-word essay, written in blank verse, earned him a fishing trip to Alaska. Entering the Marine Corps a month later, he was assigned to Washington, DC, where he served in the Presidential Honor Guard. An article on his experiences appeared in American Heritage Magazine.Following his discharge, Steve worked days, went to college nights, and spent weekends earning a private pilot's license. His writing has been published twice in AOPA Pilot Magazine.A career teacher, Steve was honored by the State of New Jersey for his work in consumer/media education and had a curriculum he devised published in a manual distributed to school libraries throughout the state.For three years, Steve and his wife Joy lived aboard a 42-foot trawler yacht. An article on their final summer cruise appeared in Living Aboard Magazine. (A photo of their home afloat is on his Facebook Author Page.)Steve is a member of the International Thriller Writers Organization and the Central Pennsylvania Writers Organization. He and his wife live in Hershey.

Book preview

Contents

Copyright Page

Dedication

Night Sweats

Maya

Seed

About the Author

Terror Times Three

Stephen M. DeBock

All rights reserved

Copyright © October 22, 2021, Stephen M. DeBock

Cover Art Copyright © 2022, Charlotte Holley

Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

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, LLC.

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ISBN: 978-1-61950- 681-7

Published in the United States of America

First eBook Edition: March 25, 2022

Dedication

For the CPWO Regulars: Carrie, Carol, Ralph, and Rich

Night Sweats

With all due respect, the realtor began, I’m surprised—don’t get me wrong, though, I’m very flattered—that you’ve come to our agency to help you find a home.

So I suppose you know who I am, the client replied.

"I read the Wall Street Journal, Mr. Kinnaman, she said. I know exactly who you are."

Then I can tell you that the reason we’re here is sitting next to me.

The realtor looked at the younger woman alongside him. Mrs. Kinnaman? This is your idea?

The woman smiled and leaned forward, as if imparting confidential information. First, I’m Becca, and ‘Mr. Kinnaman’ is Geoff. And yes, it’s all my idea. Frankly, I used to get lost in that estate house out on the Island. I mean, there are only two of us, right? Plus, I’m sick of the soirees, sick of the air kisses, sick of keeping up with the Joneses—or the Phonies, more like it. We don’t need that anymore. Never did, in fact.

I didn’t ‘need’ it in the first place, Geoff said. But at the time, it just seemed—air quotes—the thing to do.

Becca patted her husband’s leg. If you know our story, Ms. Farrell—may I call you Terry?

She said, Of course.

Terry, I’m far from being a society girl, never have been. What I want is to live in a comfortable house, with room for a garden…

Right. With a white picket fence, concrete sidewalks, and church socials on Sunday, Geoff said. And yes, my wife watches too much TV; you know, Home and Garden. Or is it House and Garden? I can’t keep it straight.

Good-natured teasing seemed to play a part in their relationship. Becca continued, What I do want is to live in a real neighborhood, with real people, who lead real lives. That’s what I want to be part of. We may not have children, but I still want to go to youth soccer and softball games with their mothers; I want to entertain neighborhood friends without having to hire a caterer and a band; and I want to be able to socialize with people I genuinely like. Is that too much to ask?

I think it’s perfectly reasonable.

Becca turned to her husband before returning her attention to Terry. As you might guess, we’re in a May-December marriage—

Hey, lady, he interrupted. May-September I’ll go with, but May-December? Listen, you two: I’m nowhere near close to shuffling off this mortal coil.

Gotcha, his wife said, and they shared another laugh.

Terry had read in the Journal’s Mansions section that the Kinnamans had sold their estate for high seven figures and left no forwarding address. She also knew the gossip, allegedly true, that the former Mrs. Kinnaman had been an alcoholic who literally drank herself to death. And that the second Mrs. Kinnaman, Becca here, had been Geoff’s executive assistant at Kinnaman Enterprises. Not for Terry to speculate or judge; a sale, after all, is a sale.

For her part, Becca Kinnaman had been a small town girl, and she wanted to return to the small town life. Which was fine with Theresa Farrell, president and CEO of Farrell Realty. What surprised her, though, was that Geoff’s roots were similar to his wife’s; in fact, her office was not three miles from the neighborhood where Geoff had grown up.

She dragged me here, Geoff admitted. I’d told her about my old haunts, and Becca insisted we look there first.

Terry opened a file of listings. So give me your wish list, and let’s see what I can do for you.

The third house Terry showed them was a Cape Cod in a development called Fox Ridge. Geoff seemed surprised when she pulled up to the curb. That’s two doors down from my old house—the ranch style, see it? I saw this house being built back in the day.

Oh, honey, we’ve got to take a look.

"I don’t know