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Dead Man's Gambit

Mike Johnson, former detective and current Assistant DA, has fallen into a comfortable rut, but the murder of a friend in prison is going to turn his life upside down.
Sales price: $5.95
Sales price without tax: $5.95
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File Type: epub
File Type: htm
File Type: pdf
File Type: prc
Price: No additional charge
Author: Frank Scully

Genre: Mystery - part of the Decade series

Release: June 2011

Editor: Karen McGrath

Line editor: Penny Ehrenkranz

Cover artist: Annie Melton

Word count: 94067

Pages: 265

ISBN: 978-1-926931-77-7

E-book price: $5.95


Mike Johnson, former detective and current Assistant DA, has fallen into a comfortable rut, but the murder of a friend in prison is going to turn his life upside down, drag him into a deadly dangerous investigation of a brutal crime and rekindle his passion for justice.


Something poked me, and it really irritated me. I wanted to open my eyes, but they were nailed, stitched, and glued shut. My arm was so heavy it didn’t budge when I asked it to swat whatever was poking me.

“Uuaaoohhah naahay toay.” I wondered what that noise was. Then I realized it was me. What the hell did I say?

My eyes opened. God, the light was bright. I shut them and tried to talk again. Someone else spoke. Somebody pushed open one of my eyelids and shined a light in my eye. Christ. Just what I needed. I tried to shake the hand off.

“Awake are you? You’re a lucky one.” The voice was cheery, feminine. “I better call the doctor.” Then I was alone.

I opened my eyes again. This time without help. It was still bright, but not so painful. I looked around. I was in a bed with tubes running here and there, into and out of me, and hooked up to electronic gizmos with blinking lights and wavy lines.

Hospital. The thought came into my mind. I’m in a hospital. That’s good. The hell it is! Why am I am in a hospital? Questions tumbled over themselves in my mind, but no answers. Panic rode the questions and overtook whatever reason I had left.

“Hi there. How’re you feeling? Silly question, right?” A young, agreeable looking man in a white coat with a stethoscope around his neck spoke to me as he read my chart

“You’re making a remarkable recovery. Can you talk?”

“Mmmm nah,” I said, licking my lips.

He understood me even if I didn’t. “Sure,” he held a glass of water for me. I sucked on it greedily.

“Now, how’s that?” he wanted to chat.

I was willing to oblige. “Better,” I croaked.

“Good, very good. Can you answer some questions?”

I nodded. I hoped I could. I sure wanted to ask some. “Can you tell us who you are?” he asked softly.

Opening my mouth, all ready to answer, I suddenly realized I couldn’t. Who was I? I didn’t know. But I have to know. Everybody knows.

Seeing my panic the doctor patted my shoulder. “Take it easy. It’ll come. Your system has been through some severe shocks. Get some sleep. We’ll try again later.” He nodded to the nurse. She injected something into one of the tubes.

I asked, “Where am I?”

“Why, you’re in Long Beach Memorial Hospital, of course.”

I felt myself slipping. I saw a bright yellow background with the word “NO” in red floating all over. Then nothing.

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