{"id":5346,"date":"2026-01-04T01:20:05","date_gmt":"2026-01-04T01:20:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/killer-choice-hunt-tom\/"},"modified":"2026-01-04T01:20:05","modified_gmt":"2026-01-04T01:20:05","slug":"killer-choice-hunt-tom","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/killer-choice-hunt-tom\/","title":{"rendered":"Killer Choice – Hunt, Tom"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Book Preview<\/h3>\n
\n

<\/span>1<\/h1>\n

TWENTY MINUTES AFTER RECEIVING THE WORST PHONE CALL OF HIS LIFE, <\/span>Gary Foster pulled his Corolla into the parking lot of McCann Medical Center. He followed the signs directing him to the emergency room and came to a stop in an open stall, slamming on the brakes hard enough to momentarily lock his seat belt.<\/p>\n

He turned off the car.<\/p>\n

Threw open the car door.<\/p>\n

Sprinted to the ER entrance.<\/p>\n

Inside, three women in green scrubs stood behind the check-in counter. Gary stared at them for a moment, heart thundering in his chest, every muscle in his thirty-nine-year-old body tight with tension.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomeone just called me about my wife,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

The oldest of the group, a woman with cropped black hair who looked to be in her fifties, stepped out from behind the counter. She <\/span>asked for Gary\u2019s name, then identified herself as Abby Fredrickson, the caller. Gary followed her to an empty nearby waiting area and sat down next to her.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight now, we don\u2019t know much more than what I told you on the phone,\u201d Abby said. She lightly touched Gary\u2019s knee. \u201cYour wife was at Town Shoppe Mall. Apparently, she just collapsed and started convulsing. Someone called nine-one-one and she was brought here by an ambulance. She was conscious when she arrived and she\u2019s undergoing tests right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gary slowly shook his head. Not even a half hour ago, he\u2019d received the call. He\u2019d been working at the outdoor-clothing retailer he owned with his brother, Rod\u2014just a normal afternoon at the store, spent putting away inventory and helping the occasional customer\u2014when his cell phone rang, displaying a local 989 Michigan number, one he didn\u2019t recognize. Pure terror had settled over him like a suffocating blanket as he listened to the story of his wife\u2019s\u2014Beth\u2019s\u2014sudden collapse. After the call, he drove straight to McCann Medical Center.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u201d Gary said. The word trailed off. He swallowed and felt his Adam\u2019s apple bob in his throat. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBeth collapsed at the ma\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d he said. \u201cBut why?\u201d<\/p>\n

Abby shook her head and shrugged. \u201cWe\u2019ll know more after the testing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I see her?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s having a CT scan right now. You can see her once she\u2019s finished. It should only be a few minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gary opened his mouth but no words came. He ran a hand <\/span>through his thinning brown hair and massaged his temples, pausing for a moment to compose himself.<\/p>\n

He just wanted to be alone, wanted to absorb this horrific news in private. But there was one final question he needed to ask, one question he had to have an answer to.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbby?\u201d Gary said. He paused, glanced down at his hands, unable to look her in the eye. \u201cThe doctors know Beth is pregnant, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d she said. \u201cThey noticed the baby bump right away.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs the baby\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t know. We\u2019ll know more soon. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gary slumped down farther in the chair and exhaled. He could not comprehend how his life had been upended in such a short amount of time. \u201cLet me know when you hear from the doctors,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. Please come get me if you have more questions,\u201d Abby said. She walked back to the check-in counter.<\/p>\n

Gary stared out the window at the light snowflakes lazily falling in the parking lot, accumulating on the pavement, sprinkling the windshields of parked cars with an early-March dusting. He saw his reflection in the glass; his face was numb with fatigue, his eyes distant. It was the expression of a man who\u2019d had his soul crushed, the look of a man who could do nothing but helplessly wait to find out whether the unthinkable had happened.<\/p>\n

\u2022\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2022\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2022<\/p>\n

GARY WAITED AN AGONIZING FIVE MINUTES UNTIL A DOCTOR WEARING GREEN <\/span>scrubs approached him. He had black hair, and the short sleeves on the scrubs revealed small, wiry forearms. Not young, but young for a doctor\u2014mid-thirties or so.<\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cGary, I\u2019m Dr. Simpson,\u201d he said, shaking Gary\u2019s hand. \u201cI\u2019m the ER doc on duty.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gary followed Dr. Simpson through a set of double doors. Down a long, dark hallway. After fifteen seconds that felt more like fifteen minutes, Dr. Simpson stopped in front of an open door, Patient Room 121, and motioned for Gary to enter. Gary said a silent prayer\u2014the third prayer he\u2019d said since receiving the phone call\u2014and stepped inside.<\/p>\n

It was a small room with beige walls and no windows. An anatomy poster depicting the muscles of the human body was taped on the wall above a small desk. In the middle of the room was a hospital bed, elevated at a slight incline. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed and hands resting in her lap, was his wife.<\/p>\n

Beth.<\/p>\n

She wore a loose hospital gown that covered her petite, ramrod-straight body. Her light brunette hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing the delicate features of her face. Gary rushed to the bed, leaned over, and hugged her.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s so great to see you,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

Blinking back tears, Gary ran his hands over her hair and rubbed her back through the thin fabric of the gown. He held her for a moment longer, then sat down on the bed beside her.<\/p>\n

Dr. Simpson pulled a stool from under the desk and dragged it over to them. \u201cWhat have you been told so far, Gary?\u201d he asked as he sat down.<\/p>\n

Gary reached over and grabbed Beth\u2019s hand, squeezed hard. \u201cAll I know is that Beth collapsed and was rushed here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was fully conscious and cognizant when she arrived,\u201d Dr. Simpson said. \u201cAfter a few tests determined she was in no immediate <\/span>danger, we performed an ultrasound. Your baby boy\u2019s heart rate is strong and within the expected limits, and everything on the ultrasound looked fine. He wasn\u2019t harmed in the fall.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gary looked down at the basketball-sized bump protruding against Beth\u2019s hospital gown. Only six months ago, they\u2019d found out about the pregnancy. After years of failed attempts, they\u2019d accepted that starting a family through traditional means just wasn\u2019t going to happen. They\u2019d started looking into adoption, possibly from China. But when Gary returned home from a long day at the store last September and Beth greeted him by handing him a positive pregnancy test, they\u2019d danced around and celebrated like teenagers. It had been the most surprising, euphoric moment of their marriage.<\/p>\n

\u201cOur goal now is to figure out why this happened,\u201d Dr. Simpson continued. \u201cBlood pressure will often rise and fall dramatically during pregnancy, and that can cause light-headedness, even fainting. But this was more than a dizzy spell. According to witnesses, Beth\u2019s entire body was convulsing when she collapsed. To try to learn what caused this, we\u2019d like to perform a few more tests and scans.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gary looked over at Beth. She stared back and slowly nodded her head\u2014clearly, she\u2019d already been told all of this.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, but the only advice I can give you now is to stay positive until we have some answers,\u201d Dr. Simpson said. \u201cWe\u2019ll expedite Beth\u2019s results and should know more in a few hours.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gary closed his eyes. Paused. Took a moment to let it all sink in.<\/p>\n

\u201cI realize this is a lot to hear,\u201d Dr. Simpson said. \u201cDo you have any questions for me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Gary opened his eyes and blankly stared at Dr. Simpson. Questions? Only about a million of them.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

<\/span>AS GARY FOSTER AND HIS WIFE WAITED IN THE HOSPITAL, A MAN HALFWAY <\/span>across the city nervously paced around the sales floor of a pawnshop named Solid Gold Pawn. He walked back and forth, back and forth, from the windows covered with iron bars at the front of the shop to the checkout counter in the rear, passing shelves and glass display cases filled with watches, electronics, and other assorted merchandise. His legs were unsteady and his hands trembled with nerves. His mouth was downturned, absolute worry etched over his face. He had much to worry about. His entire life was caving in around him. And he had no idea what to do.<\/p>\n

His name was Otto Brennan. He was in his mid-forties, but his unforgiving face made him look older. Laugh lines spiderwebbed from the corners of his cold, snakelike eyes, but the lines weren\u2019t from years of enjoying laughter and merriment with friends. A tight tan T-shirt revealed skinny, pasty white forearms covered in tattoos, a crisscross pattern of winding designs. His head was shaved completely bald.<\/p>\n

More pacing. He moved with a slight hitch in his step, a limp that was a result of a bullet shattering his left kneecap when he was a teenager. Otto looked at the room surrounding him as he walked, as if the answer to all of his problems were resting on a shelf next to the display of photo equipment or hanging from the wall above the laptop computers.<\/p>\n

But there was no answer anywhere. Just merchandise. Stacks and displays of stupid shit he\u2019d purchased from customers over the years.<\/p>\n

The pawnshop\u2019s front door rattled open and he snapped his head toward it, alarmed. A Hispanic guy in his twenties stood in the doorway. The sides of his head were shaved but the hair on top was braided <\/span>in tight cornrows. Underneath one arm, he carried a black flat-screen television.<\/p>\n

\u201cYo,\u201d the younger guy said. The pawnshop door shut behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Carlos,\u201d Otto said. His voice was scratchy, like his larynx was wrapped in sandpaper.<\/p>\n

Otto walked behind the counter and sat down.<\/p>\n

\u201cI got a TV for sale,\u201d Carlos said, setting the TV on the countertop. \u201cHeard this was a good place to sell it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much you want for it?\u201d Otto asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much you gonna offer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll give you fifty bucks,\u201d Otto said, making the offer without even looking at the television.<\/p>\n

\u201cShit, fifty bucks? It\u2019s worth a hell of a lot more than that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo make a counteroffer.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carlos paused for a moment. He appeared to be a man deeply contemplating his offer, but Otto knew it was an act.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take two hundred thousand dollars for it,\u201d Carlos said. \u201cTwo hundred grand seems like a fair price to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Despite everything going on in his life, Otto reacted to Carlos\u2019s offer with a tight, restrained smile. He couldn\u2019t help it. He and Carlos took part in these phony negotiations every time Carlos showed up at Solid Gold Pawn with something to sell. By now, these exchanges were an old song with a familiar tune, something they did for their own amusement.<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo hundred thousand dollars, you say?\u201d Otto said, keeping it going.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSeems pretty pricey for a cheap-ass TV.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe TV\u2019s worth every penny\u2014believe me,\u201d Carlos said.<\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cPiece of shit probably doesn\u2019t even work.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about I carry this downstairs?\u201d Carlos said, picking up the television. \u201cYou can inspect it down there, appreciate some of its finer details. See what makes it so valuable.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s go,\u201d Otto said.<\/p>\n

Otto walked over to a display of ten electric guitars hanging from the wall. He nudged the gray wainscoting next to the guitars and a hidden door slowly swung open, revealing a darkened wooden staircase that led down to the basement. He flipped a switch on the wall and a light at the base of the stairs flickered on.<\/p>\n

They descended the stairs and reached a shadowy room roughly half the size of the sales floor above. It looked like a mini warehouse, with large cardboard boxes stacked on metal storage racks pushed against the walls. The boxes contained various items Otto had purchased for the pawnshop, the contents scrawled on the outside in Sharpie\u2014video games, books, car stereos.<\/p>\n

In the middle of the room was a stainless-steel table, as wide as a card table and twice as long. Carlos followed Otto over to it and set the television on top.<\/p>\n

\u201cThink I\u2019ll take a closer look at this fine piece of equipment,\u201d Otto said.<\/p>\n

\u201cBe my guest.\u201d<\/p>\n

A toolbox rested on top of the metal table, right next to the television. Otto grabbed a hammer from inside and hefted it in his hand, feeling its weight.<\/p>\n

\u201cTake a step back,\u201d he said to Carlos.<\/p>\n

Carlos did as requested.<\/p>\n

Otto swung the hammer against the television screen, shattering it. He set down the hammer and snaked his hand past a few jagged <\/span>shards of black glass that were still stuck in the frame. He grabbed a cellophane-wrapped package duct-taped inside the television and put it on the table. One by one, he lifted three more identical packages from inside.<\/p>\n

\u201cTold you the TV was worth two hundred grand,\u201d Carlos said. \u201cFresh from Xalisco. Four kilos of black tar heroin, straight Mexican Mud.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis looks good,\u201d Otto said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen let\u2019s get to it. I got places to go. Our cut of last month\u2019s profits plus the cost of this stuff is two hundred grand. Fork over the cash.\u201d<\/p>\n

Otto paused. He looked at the four cellophane-wrapped packages lined up on the table, stared at them for a moment before looking back up at Carlos. \u201cListen,\u201d he said. \u201cI don\u2019t got the cash.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carlos\u2019s eyes hardened. The hint of a smile on his face vanished. His casual, joking demeanor was gone\u2014this was business now, pure and simple.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t got the cash?\u201d Carlos said. Even his voice had changed\u2014it sounded deeper, more menacing.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs this some kinda joke?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo joke. I\u2019m serious.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carlos glared at him, the emotion completely drained from his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the fuck, Otto?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll have the money in a couple months.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA<\/em> couple<\/em> months?<\/em> Fuck that. What the hell am I supposed to tell De La Fuente?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell him exactly what I just told you. Something came up and I don\u2019t got the cash right now. I\u2019ll get it to him later.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/span>Carlos pinched his nose and ran his hand along his jawline. \u201cAre you out of your mind? You\u2019re gonna stiff De La Fuente?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI ain\u2019t stiffing him. Make sure he understands that. I\u2019m just delaying payment for a few months. He\u2019ll get his money later.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s gonna go ballistic.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d Otto said. He tried to speak coolly, but his voice quavered. \u201cI need you to help me out here. Tell De La Fuente I\u2019m good for this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carlos shook his head. \u201cI\u2019ll do what I can, Otto. But this ain\u2019t no joke.\u201d<\/p>\n

They walked across the basement and ascended the stairs, the creaking of the rotting wood underneath them the only sound in the stairwell. Back upstairs, Carlos turned around and faced Otto.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, what\u2019s up?\u201d Carlos said. \u201cBetween you and me, what\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust some shit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGotta be pretty serious to screw De La Fuente out of nearly two hundred grand. This is the head of the El Este cartel you\u2019re fucking with, bro. He didn\u2019t get to where he is by letting people pull shit like this on him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI got the situation under control,\u201d Otto said. He hoped that Carlos didn\u2019t detect the uncertainty in his voice. \u201cIt\u2019ll be over soon, and I\u2019ll have the cash then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor your sake, I hope so,\u201d Carlos said. \u201cYou may be the man who calls the shots in this shithole city, but you\u2019re nothing but a pissant to De La Fuente. He\u2019s got a thousand people just like you in every city you can think of. All you are is a steady source of income to him. If you can\u2019t be counted on for the cash, he\u2019ll replace your ass in a heartbeat.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carlos left the pawnshop and stepped into his beat-to-shit pickup. <\/span>Once the truck had backed out of the stall, Otto locked the pawnshop front door. He walked back to the front counter and sat down.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d bought himself some time.<\/p>\n

Now he had to somehow get out of this mess.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cI DON\u2019T KNOW WHAT TO SAY,\u201d GARY SAID AFTER DR. SIMPSON HAD LEFT <\/span>the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s nothing to say,\u201d Beth replied. \u201cAll we can do is wait. And pray. Pray that it\u2019s nothing serious.\u201d<\/p>\n

She fluffed the pillow on the bed, lay back, and stared up at the ceiling. They\u2019d asked Dr. Simpson endless questions, but he only repeated the same refrain: a few hours\u2014they\u2019d know more then.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt least the little guy\u2019s fine,\u201d Beth said, running her hand over her belly.<\/p>\n

She looked over at Gary, a feeble smile crossing her lips. She seemed so calm, so collected, almost as if she were unaffected by what happened. But that was Beth. She was a rock, always the strong one, the shoulder he\u2019d leaned on so many times over the years.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you have any idea why this happened?\u201d Gary asked. He lay down next to Beth.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. I barely remember anything. I was walking, felt a headache, then blackness. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by people. Paramedics loaded me into an ambulance and brought me here.\u201d<\/p>\n

A headache<\/em>. Over the past few months, Beth had experienced a few headaches. Neither of them had paid much attention, figuring it was a side effect of the pregnancy.<\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cDo you think the headache has something to do with your fall?\u201d Gary asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe. Maybe not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s not talk about it,\u201d Beth said. \u201cI don\u2019t want to think about this until we learn more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2022\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2022\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2022<\/p>\n

THEY LEARNED MORE THREE HOURS LATER. THERE WAS A KNOCK ON THE <\/span>patient-room door and a tall, slender doctor with a graying mustache entered the room. He carried an iPad in one hand, a black leather case protecting the screen.<\/p>\n

\u201cGary, Beth, my name is Joseph Levy,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m head of the Radiology department here.\u201d<\/p>\n

They shook hands. Dr. Levy sat down in a chair across from them.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like to discuss a few things with you,\u201d he said. \u201cOver the past couple of hours, we\u2019ve performed an array of tests and scans to figure out what caused Beth\u2019s collapse. One of these scans was a CT scan to look at her brain. I\u2019m afraid that it gave us some bad news.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dr. Levy unlocked the iPad and flipped the device so the screen faced Gary and Beth. It displayed a scan of a human brain. Dr. Levy pointed at a dark, foggy mark toward the rear of the skull. It was roughly an inch long, shaped like a torpedo.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry to tell you this,\u201d he said. \u201cThe scan showed a growth on Beth\u2019s left temporal lobe. A brain tumor.\u201d<\/p>\n

It took a moment for the statement to sink in. Gary felt his body lightly sway to the left, then to the right. He was grateful that he was <\/span>sitting down\u2014had he been standing, he was certain the weight of the news would\u2019ve made him lose his balance.<\/p>\n

\u201cA brain tumor,\u201d Gary repeated. Not a question, but not really a statement, either. Just something to say to break the silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Again, I\u2019m very sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gary put an unsteady hand to his face and wondered if he was going to vomit. He turned to Beth. She stared at Dr. Levy. Blinked once. The corners of her mouth were turned down.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs it cancer?\u201d Gary asked, turning to Dr. Levy.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t know. We\u2019ll perform a biopsy to remove a small sample of the tissue, then send it to Pathology for analysis. Once we get her results back, we\u2019ll determine our next steps. It should be a few days.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dr. Levy continued talking, but Gary was unable to process any more information. It was all too much. He looked at the screen of the iPad resting on the desk a few feet away. The screen hadn\u2019t yet gone into standby mode and the image of Beth\u2019s brain was still displayed. Gary glared at the foggy, inch-long tumor with confusion, nauseating anger. Something so small, and yet it could have such a huge impact on Beth\u2019s life, their son\u2019s life, Gary\u2019s life.<\/p>\n

On everything.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Read the full book by downloading it below.<\/p>\n

DOWNLOAD EPUB<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Book Preview 1 TWENTY MINUTES AFTER RECEIVING THE WORST PHONE CALL OF HIS LIFE, Gary Foster pulled his Corolla into the parking lot of McCann Medical Center. He followed the signs directing him to the emergency room and came to a stop in an open stall, slamming on the brakes hard enough to momentarily lock … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5345,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[354],"class_list":["post-5346","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-tom-hunt"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5346","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5346"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5346\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5345"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5346"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5346"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5346"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}