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Gary Hoffman

by Gary Hoffman


Half a dozen servers gathered around Vince’s table and sang a jazzed-up version of Happy Birthday to him. There was a lot of hand clapping and stomping of feet. He shot his wife an I-thought-we-agreed-to-not-do-this-kind-of-crap look, but smiled at the singers. He politely said, “Thank you,” when they finished.

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by Gary Hoffman


“I’m very sorry Judge Blankenship, but there is a young woman in the waiting area who insists on seeing you now,” the maître d’ said as he handed the judge a business card.

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by Gary Hoffman


Five minutes had passed.
Detective Winston Elliot Browne, nicknamed WEB, admired the brass door knocker. He raised the ring being held in the lion’s mouth and let it fall. He smiled, picked it up again, and tapped it three times on the knocker plate. Several seconds passed before he heard a mousy voice from inside the mansion.

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by Gary Hoffman


He had the patience of a cat watching rain drops run down a window pane. But, at the moment, he was making no attempt to pounce. He had all the time he needed. He had been stalking her for over a month now. When he did pounce, it would be only once, and it would be the only time needed.

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by Gary Hoffman


“Hey, Barb. Wantta throw one?”
Barb stopped in mid-step. “Sure.” She entered Jason’s office, and he handed her a dart. She took as careful aim as she could and threw the dart at the large cork board hanging on the other wall.

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by Gary Hoffman


Sarah was so engrossed in her own problems, she didn’t hear the three men ride up to the front of her farm house. When one of the men called out, “Hello,” she jumped, and her hand went to her mouth. After smoothing her apron and running her fingers through her hair, she went out on the front porch.

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by Gary Hoffman


“In order to wear these socks, I’m gonna have to go buy new shoes that are two sizes larger than the ones I usually wear, or go without shoes at all.”

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by Gary Hoffman


“And where was the boat found?” Detective Brown asked.
Across the lake, sir. Over by Canal Point,” the deputy sheriff answered.
Brown looked at the bass boat, a Nitro like he would love to own, metallic blue with a two hundred horse Mercury engine. The only spoiler was the body slumped over in the bottom of the boat.

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by Gary Hoffman


I wasn’t sure what I expected to find in Apalachicola, Florida, but Kaitlin Mosby sure wasn’t it. Whoever coined the term “chick” must have had her in mind.

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by Gary Hoffman


“A hundred-thousand bucks is a lot of dough, boss,” Dave, the sales manager from Hollyhock Ford, said.
“Yeah, but we’ll never have to pay it. And look at the free advertising. I mean who’s going to bring in a real leprechaun?

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by Gary Hoffman


“What architect from hell drew up these blueprints?” asked Richard Shelby.
“No architect. Mumford.” Tony Jackson said.
“And just what is a Mumford?”

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by Gary Hoffman


I could always find a million reasons never to attend funerals, but when Chuck Temple was shot and killed, they all went to hell. He and I actually went back to Elementary School #34 in Pittsburg. My family had moved there so my dad could find a job. In a quirk of fate, Chuck started the third grade there on the same day and for the same reason. We’d been tight since then.

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by Gary Hoffman


Jacob was sweating and his stomach felt nauseated, but his Uncle Leo always made him nervous at these meetings. He watched as his uncle did his usual slow dance over his ledger books. The old man would run his finger down each row of columns and then look up at Jacob and give him a half-smile when he got to the bottom. He seemed to have a calculator in his head.

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Old #32: Mystery Short Story

IN THE March 4 ISSUE

FROM THE 2017 Articles,
andMysteryrat's Maze,
andTerrific Tales
SECTIONS

by Gary Hoffman


I got my job as a batboy with the Pine City Pinkies not because my old man was somebody important, but because I didn’t have one. Most batboys are hired because their old man knows someone or is an important person in the community. Mine left me and my mom when I was two years old. May 13, 1950, was the date he bailed out for “parts unknown to seek his fortune.” Mom still gets dumpy when that date rolls around every year.

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