Life Goes On

A James Everhard Mystery

by Wayne Wallace

 

Scene 1

           James Everhard sat at the bar at Rick’s Café American’ with his partner in crime and adventure, Chief of Detectives William Chaple (retired), and their good friend, and “for hire for the right price mercenary”, Bud Magnum.  Magnum was telling the dynamic duo a little about how he had spent the last two adventurous years on the Gold Coast in Africa, training freedom fighters and raking in some “gold” of his own.  Chaple was, relating to Magnum, how he and Everhard had just last month, chased down and ridded the world of an “honest-to-God”, real life vampire.  Tired of what seemed like a never ending game of “that’s nothin’”  Everhard, walked away and headed for a corner booth, drink in hand.  Seated in the red leather upholstered, corner booth, all alone, nursing her drink and looking lonely, was legendary Bond girl, Lovie Cravesit.  “Mind if I sit down”  Everhard asked the beautiful brunette.  Lovie blinked twice, fluttering her eyelashes over impossibly blue eyes and answered, “Why no, Mr. Everhard, please join me.”  Everhard sat down in the booth next to the drop dead gorgeous woman and gave her a thorough visual inspection.  She was twenty-two or three, tall, about 5’10”, pale white skin, long, straight, dark black hair that cascaded over her shoulders.  Gorgeous, dark, blue eyes that had been expertly, and tastefully adorned with a minimal amount of eye make up, over a delicate nose and moist, ruby red lips.  Her smile revealed beautifully perfect, pearly white teeth.  Her plunging neckline revealed a generous eyeful of matching, dual globes of man-luring sexuality, the sight of which made Everhard audibly gasp.  Her small waist and perfectly gorgeous hips sat above two, exquisitely shaped, long legs.  She was feminine perfection, a living, sexual fantasy, and Everhard wanted her.  “Please, call me James,” Everhard told her.  “Alright, James.  To what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight?”  The woman asked. “To your mother and father, for creating such a beautiful masterpiece!” James answered.  Miss Cravesit chuckled and said, “I’ve heard that you are a silver-tongued devil, and I’ve also heard that you disappear each and every weekend to be with your wife, back home in Texas.”  It was now Everhard’s turn to chuckle, and then he replied, “Did that while we were still married,” he said, “She left me, packed up and left just last week.  Couldn’t stand my lifestyle I guess.”  Everhard offered Lovie Cravesit his hand, which she accepted and the pair left the bar, headed across the street to the Hotel California.

           “Less than a frickin’ minute!  A new record I believe.” sighed Chaple.  “Is that dude that damned good?”  Bud Magnum asked and whistled.  “Don’t know from personal experience, but I’ve never heard one of his girl friends complain.” Chaple said matter-of-factly.  The two at the bar watched through the large picture window as Everhard and Miss Cravesit entered the fabled hotel.

 

Scene 2

            Marshal the bartender joined Chaple and Magnum.  “Did it again didn’t he?!” Marshal said.  “Picked up the most beautiful woman in the joint and took her straight to the California!” Marshal said, shaking his head.  “I don’t know just what it is but, that son-of-a-bitch has got something!” remarked the obviously envious bartender. “And he did it in less than a minute!”  Magnum added.  “It’s the pending divorce,” Chaple told them. “Some guys drown their sorrows in booze, he drowns his in beautiful women.”  “Well, It’s a lot easier on the liver I suppose.” Magnum laughed.  “Are they really getting a divorce?  Has she filed and everything?” Marshal asked Chaple. “Yes, I’m afraid so.” The Chief of Detectives (retired) replied. “He told me about it yesterday. Then I called Dona. They still love each other, it’s just that Everhard can’t be married. It isn’t in his make-up, It was a terrible mistake made by his writer.  Wallace was apparently obsessed with writing a fairy tale ending.”  Chaple told the two men as Marshal fetched him a fresh scotch.

 “You think she’ll get that fabulous mansion in Sanger, Texas?”  Bud Magnum asked.  “She doesn’t want it,” Chaple answered.  “Hell, he built it just for her!” Marshal said.  “That’s why she doesn’t want it.  Too many memories.  She wants to move on, try to forget.” Chaple told the two.  Other patrons had overheard the conversation and were moving to the bar.  “That’s terrible!  I bet poor James is heart broken.  I better console him,” the redhead, a regular at both the bar and the Hotel California said.  “I think he’s being consoled as we speak, Red!”  Chapel told her, “but thanks anyway.”  “Well I, for one, think the world better watch out!” Fannie Ever-Ready warned, “the last time James went on a womanizing bender, it was in the Virgin Islands.  Hell, they had to rename the place!”  The room exploded in laughter.  Fannie sensed that she was on a roll.  “He’s made more women call the Almighty’s name than all those television evangelists combined!”  Less laughter from the crowd, but still promising,  Fanny Ever-Ready continued: “Hell, James gets a volume discount over there at the Hotel ‘C’,” Hardly any laughter, Fanny abruptly stopped and gulped downed her gin and tonic.  “Another, Marshal”, Fannie said, holding out her glass “and this time, easy on the tonic!”

A voice came from way back at the corner of the establishment.  “I feel his pain.” Donna Vadelle, quoting a former president, said.  “And I plan to try to ease his pain as well!  Fannie Ever -Ready rolled her eyes at Ms. Vadelle’s statement.  “Just as soon as he gets back!” Donna shouted .”Line forms right here ladies!” Donna laughed and marked a spot on the polished oak floor.  remarkably, every woman in the bar got up and formed a line behind Donna Vadelle.  Every woman that is, except the lovely Fannie Ever-Ready, who refused to stand in line for anything or anybody.  “Now I’ve fricking seen everything!” Bud Magnum exclaimed.  “Unfricking believable!” Marshall swore.  Chaple just smiled and finished his drink.

 

Scene 3

            With the advent of cell phones and laptop computers in our society, the speed with which word travels has increased at least a thousand fold.  Not thirty minutes after Donna Vadelle voiced her intention to form a line of women who wanted to help James Everhard out of his current funk by literally screwing his brains out, the legal capacity of Rick’s Café American had been exceeded thrice over,  and a line had formed outside the infamous gin joint that stretched for six blocks.  Every female fictional character imaginable was waiting for James Everhard to return from his current liason and take them to his bed! 

            Inside the club, Marshall, the friendly bartender was on the telephone trying to place an order for an “emergency” shipment from his liquor wholesaler.  The establishment had set a single evening sales record in just the last hour and liquor supplies were running low.  Chief of Detectives William Chaple was urgently trying to reach his old friend and partner in adventure James Everhard on his cell phone.  He knew that Everhard usually turned off the cell during a “date” with a lovely lady , but this was an emergency!  He had to let Everhard know just what was waiting for him here at Rick’s.  An estimated 1000 women were here waiting in line for a roll in the hay with Everhard!  And more were arriving every few minutes, by taxi, on the bus, and in their private cars.  There was no where to park anywhere within six blocks of Ricks and in front of the club, cars were double and triple parked.  There had been numerous traffic accidents, a couple of shootings, a fire and stabbing, the local police were calling the state police for assistance.  News helicopters were circling the bar, focusing on the huge crowd for coverage on the 11 O’Clock News.

            At the Hotel California, Lovie Cravesit lay naked under a sheet, sleeping dreamily after her two hour love-making session with Everhard.  Everhard, naked and sitting on the edge of the bed, used the remote to switch on the television.  “The largest traffic snarl in this city’s history is currently taking place in the downtown area!” the television news anchor was saying, “It seems that something phenomenal is occurring in the vicinity of Rick’s Café American’.  All streets and highways leading in or out of downtown are hopelessly clogged with traffic and police have been unable to unsnarl this monumental traffic tie up.  All citizens are urged NOT to go to this area, as traffic has far exceeded the streets and highways ability to handle the load. Authorities tell us that at least two bridges are in immediate danger of collapsing under the unprecedented weight of the traffic.  We now go to our ‘on the scene reporter Pamera Tratt who is with our camera crew in front on Rick’s.  Pamera, take it away!” the news anchor said.  “Well Kelly, it’s pandemonium here at Rick’s Café American’. In a bizarre story, It seems that a rumor was started that famous detective James Everhard was going to sleep with at least one woman who was waiting in line at Rick’s tonight.  That word went out about two hours ago and has resulted in riots, fires, shootings, a stabbing, and the worst traffic tie-up in city history.  The fire department has finally made it here and is currently hosing down (no pun intended) the anxious women in this crowd, in an attempt to disperse this huge crowd.”  Blasts of water covered screaming women, including the “on the scene’ reporter Pamera Tratt.  “This a very wet and exhausted Pamera Tratt reporting from the riots at Rick’s Café’ American.”  The soggy reporter concluded her live spot and immediately began cussing at the top of her lungs and complaining about the fire department having ruined her new $100 hairdo.

            Everhard couldn’t believe his eyes and ears and went over to the third floor window in the suite and pulled back the curtains.  Below, it was bedlam!  Spotlights were reaching to the stars,  Helicopters were flying around everywhere.   A thousand or so women were fighting to get into Rick’s.  He couldn’t believe it!  Suddenly, one of the bright spot lights lit up the window in which he stood.  News helicopters swooped towards the hotel window.  Everhard froze in shock like a deer caught in headlights.

            “This is Pamera Tratt reporting live.  It appears that a man is standing in a third floor window of the Hotel California totally naked”.  The camera panned to Everhard’s suite window and one of those fuzzy round dots was all that shielded the youngsters at home, viewing the news, from seeing Everhard’s enormous erection in the live camera shot.  “Yes ladies and gentlemen, it’s the famous detective himself, James Everhard standing nude for all to see!” the soaking wet news reporter  yelled above the noisy crowd.

            As soon as Everhard regained his wits, he pulled the curtain closed and grabbed for his slacks and signature silver body shirt.  “Wake up Lovie,” he shouted, “we’ve got to get out of here, and quick!” he shouted but the exhausted woman merely smiled and snored lightly.

            Across the street, hundreds of totally water soaked women ran, yelling and screaming across the street to the Hotel California’s Lobby.

 

Scene 4

            Everhard had to get out of the hotel, but how?  The stairwell was crowded with women rushing up to the third floor.  All three elevators were overloaded and headed his way as well.  Just then, he heard someone shout, “hey hot shot.  wanna make an escape or are you gonna stay here and try to satisfy all those women?”  It was his old friend, Fanny Ever-Ready on the fire escape.  “Come on, this is your only hope.”  Everhard broke for the window and the waiting fire escape. Everhard started to go down the steel fire ladder but Fanny motioned for him to go up, towards the roof.  He hurried up the ladder, and Fannie followed right behind him.  On the roof, a helicopter waited, its rotors turning.  Everhard and Ever-Ready jumped aboard.  Marshal the bartender was at the controls.  The engine whined and the rotors spun faster and the helicopter lifted off the roof and banked off towards the south.

            On the third floor of the Hotel California, all three elevator doors opened and dozens and dozens of women poured out of them.  At roughly the same time, a couple of hundred women poured onto the third floor from the stairwell.  They began forcing doors open searching for Everhard.  Sleepy travelers were rudely awakened by the horny mob of women who checked to see if the famous detective was in each and every bed.  When they awakened the drowsy Miss Cravesit, she screamed for James.  The women demolished the hotel room and its adjoining bathroom searching for the illusive detective.  When they realized that he had apparently made good his escape, the huge mob slowly began to leave the hotel.  Looting and helping themselves to lamps, curtains and the less bulky of the furniture items along their way.

            High above the besieged city, Everhard, Ever-Ready and Marshal set a course for St. Barth’s Island.  “You need to escape till things calm down around here.  St. Bart’s is the place.” Marshal told Everhard.  “Sounds great to me,” Everhard shouted over the engine noise and gave Marshal a thumbs up sign.  He gave Fanny Ever-Ready a long, warm and wet thank-you kiss, and then settled into his seat for some well needed shut eye.

            Back at Rick’s Café American’ where the rioting crowd had made a shambles of the place, Bud Magnum and Donna Vadelle were getting very well acquainted under a pile of overturned tables and chairs.  They were locked in a  lover’s embrace and making excellent strides towards a lifelong friendship when an obviously embarrassed group of rescue workers uncovered them 45 minutes later.

 

Scene 5

           The steady hum of the helicopter’s engine was interrupted by a cough, a sputter and a backfire and then finally, a dreadful silence.  Everhard came wide awake from the restful sleep he had enjoyed for the past hour.  The helicopter was falling, nose first into the blackness below.  The pilot yelled, “Out of fuel.  I thought we could make it!”  Everhard looked out his window and spied a large body of water below.  He wasn’t sure just how far below the water was, however, It didn’t matter.  Everhard made a snap decision.  He forced his door open against the wind and pressure and started to jump out.  He turned to the blonde riding next to him and said, ” We have to jump.  It’s our only chance!”  She laughed and said, “Can’t James, I’m terribly afraid of heights!” and gave him a light shove.  Everhard fell out of the helicopter into the seemingly endless darkness.

           Everhard fell for what seemed like minutes and then finally hit the cold water feet first.  He plunged into the icy water and descended twenty or so feet into its depths before he began to swim to the surface.  He broke the surface of the water and gasped for air.  As his vision cleared, he watched the helicopter in which he had been riding, crash into the ground a thousand yards or so ahead.  It was a tremendous crash, but there was no resultant fire.  “No fuel to cause a fire”, Everhard reasoned, as he began to swim in the direction of the downed helicopter.

           At last, Everhard reached a shoreline and pulled himself up on the sandy beach, exhausted.  He lay there trying to regain his spent energy.  After he could breath regularly again and the strength began to return to his cold and aching limbs, he struggled to his feet.  He headed in the direction of where he estimated the helicopter had gone down.  About 100 feet away from the beach lay the strewn wreckage of the helicopter.  He found the bodies of the pilot and its lovely passenger.  They were both dead.  He wished he had had a blanket, or anything with which to cover the bodies.  He did not.  He lay on the sand next to the wreckage and tried to think.  Surely the helicopter had been on the radar screens of someone’s air traffic control system.  And consequently, they would know approximately when and where the craft had disappeared.  Someone had to be looking for them!  He was exhausted, wet and cold.  He was battered from the fall.  He estimated that his body must have hit the water at about 100 mph.  His feet broke the water, this probably saved his life.  If he had hit flat on his stomach or back, he surely would have broken every bone in his body.  The water had been salt water, so it must be an ocean or bay.  They were headed south, the body of water must be the Gulf of Mexico.  But was this beach in Texas, Mexico? Maybe it was Florida.  His head hurt from all the questions.  Everhard gave in to his exhaustion and rolled over on his back in the sand and fell deeply asleep.

 

Scene 6

           Everhard awoke with a start in a strange bed and in a strange room.  It was a simple bedroom, with drab, off white walls, and the simplest of furniture.  The only adornment on the wall was a hand carved, wooden crucifix with the thorny crowned, suffering Jesus nailed into place.  Everhard realized that he was clean and wearing a freshly laundered pair of boxers and a clean tee shirt.  Someone had bathed him and dressed him.  But who?   Just then there was a soft knock upon his door.  “Come in,” Everhard said.  Through the door walked a beautiful Hispanic woman, carrying a breakfast tray.  “How are you feeling this morning, senor?” the woman asked.  “Much better, I think,” Everhard replied to her.  “Your ribs and back are very bruised from the the crash”.  Everhard did not correct her on this one point in her story, at least not yet. “You will be sore for a while,” the woman told him in heavily accented English.  “Here, you must eat to get your strength back.”  The woman placed a tray in his lap that was covered with warm tortillas and eggs and sausage with salsa and peppers.  Everhard began eating as though he hadn’t eaten in days.  In fact, he probably had not.

           After he finished eating and was drinking a hot cup of very strong, tasty coffee, Everhard asked the beautiful woman her name.  “Maria,” she replied.       “Did you bring me here from the beach?” he asked.  “My brothers Juan and Hector brought you here, they found you.  I bathed you and treated your wounds. That was yesterday.  You’ve been asleep for many hours.”  The woman told him.  “My friends in the helicopter?”  Everhard asked.  “I am sorry senor.  They both died in the crash.  Hector and Juan buried them, to keep the wolves from – you know.”  She answered, not making eye contact.  Everhard knodded silently.  “The authorities - have they been here?” Everhard asked.  She laughed.  “Senor’, no authorities will come here.” She told him.  “Just where are we?” Everhard asked.  “Cartagena, Columbia senor’”.  “Holy Shit!” Everhard cursed.  “That crazy S.O. B. must have been miles off course!  He took us south and west of Cuba to get to the islands.  Never been that way.  He was one hell of a bartender, but his navigational skills needed some honing.  May he rest in peace.”  Everhard exclaimed.  “But senorita, someone must have seen the helicopter on radar. Someone must have seen the crash, they must be looking for us now!” Everhard told Maria. “Senor, no one ever sees anything on radar around here.  The cartel pays much money so that this will be the case.  There is a small plane or helicopter crash here about once a month, and nobody ever investigates them.  My brothers always salvage what can be salvaged and sell any contraband drugs back to the cartel. They bury the dead.  It is how they make their living.”  Everhard knodded that he  understood.  “Drugs,” he thought to himself, “So that’s what she thinks we were doing.”  He didn’t find it necessary to correct her at this point.  He would just wait and see what happened next.

 

Scene 7

           Everhard climbed out of the bed and Maria handed him some clothes.  A pair of jeans and a faded, plaid shirt.  They were close to his size, so he put them on. Maria then handed him his own bass penny loafers and his socks, freshly laundered.  After he was dressed, Maria handed him his Tag Heur watch, his wallet, and his keys.  Everhard checked the wallet.  Twenty fresh, crisp one hundred dollar bills, all his credit cards, nothing had been disturbed.  He pulled 5 bills from the wallet, folded them in half and handed them to the beautiful woman.  “Thank you for your overwhelming generosity senor, but you must not leave now.” Maria told him.  “Why not?” Everhard asked.  “Because, senor’, they will keel you.” Maria said.

            “I must explain something to you, please sit down.” Everhard sat on the bed as directed.  “Senor, you must understand, this is Cartegena.  Everyone who lives here depends in some way on the cartel for their living.  Some pick and harvest the marijuana and poppy crops, others produce the cocaine in the factories and bag it for shipment. Some are the cartel’s soldiers. Still others are drivers or house keepers for the drug lords.  Others, like my brothers, do salvage work and odd jobs for them”. Maria said.  “What is it that you do for them Maria?” Everhard asked her, his lips dangerously close to hers. “Nothing!,” she said defiantly, “I hate them and all that they stand for!  I cook and clean for my brothers, nothing more!”  “Okay, go on,” Everhard said, placing his hand on her shoulder to try to calm her down.  “There are only two reasons that aircraft fly into this city,” she told him.  “To pick up drugs, or to bring in D.E.A .agents. The first group is welcomed by the cartel, the second group is hunted down and killed.  Even though you and your friends had no D.E.A. credentials, my brothers fear that you may be D.E.A.  If this is so, the cartel will find you and kill you”.  Maria told him as she began to sob.  “Have your brothers told the cartel about me?” Everhard asked.  “No, senor’.  We are simple people, we do not wish to get involved in Cartel business.  Hector and Juan told the cartel about the pilot and the blonde woman, but there was no mention of you?” Maria said.  “I begged them not to tell the soldiers about you, so they did not.” said Maria.  “I think you are the most handsome man I have ever seen.  I wanted to get to know you.” Maria told him blushing shyly.  “But if you are seen in the village by anyone, the cartel will come to get you.  No one knows you are here but my brothers and I.  If you go outside at all, it must be after darkness falls.” Maria told him.  “All right Maria, I will stay, at least until it gets dark.  And please, call me James”. Everhard told the beautiful woman as he pressed his lips against hers and they fell onto the bed together.

 

Scene 8

           James and Maria made love the rest of the afternoon.  Dusk was approaching as the sun slowly set on the western horizon.  James Everhard got up and dressed again.  Maria remained naked in the bed sleeping the sleep of an exhausted lover, and judging from the smile on her face, dreaming extremely sweet dreams.  James had a plan.  He had to get to the airport as soon as it was dark.  Twenty minutes later, Everhard slipped out of the little house.

           Everhard made his way to the small airport that was three miles away by jogging between shadowy areas and trying to remain unseen.  He would duck into the bushes and hide anytime a car’s headlights lit up the sparsely traveled road.  He arrived at the airport’s single runway about an hour later.  From his hiding place in the brush, he surveyed the aircraft on the ground.  There were several single engined Beechcraft, an old DC-3, and then he saw it; a sleek white, Learjet.  This was his ticket home!  He watched as a single technician fueled the jet.  After several minutes, and with the tanks apparently full, the technician drove away on a tug.  Everhard quickly made his way through the shadows to the Lear.

           As Everhard got close to the jet, he noticed that the technician had not only fueled the aircraft, but that he had prepared it for flight as well.  Engine pre-heaters had been connected to the turbine engines and a battery charger was attached.  This baby was ready to fly! Everhard quickly unattached the engine pre-heaters and the battery charger cable and quietly opened the cabin door.  In the cockpit, Everhard saw that the ignition was unlocked.  He scanned the runway and saw that the wind was blowing lightly out of the north.  Without a moments hesitation, Everhard started the two whining turbine engines and quickly began taxiing north on the runway.  The radio crackled a frantic warning in Spanish.  Everhard switched it off and pushed both throttles to the stop.  Everhard worked the flaps controls with his feet and pulled back on the stick.  Moments later he was airborne and heading north and climbing over the South Pacific Ocean.

           Everhard’s flight plan was to fly north along the western coast of Mexico and land in San Diego.  Several minutes into the flight, Everhard switched on the radio and put on the pilot’s headset.  He was directly over Nicaragua.  He radioed San Pedro air traffic control and gave his tail number, his destination (San Diego) and his altitude and heading.  A controller with a thick Spanish accent confirmed the information in English and wished Everhard a “pleasant flight.”  His heading set and his altitude set at 30,000 feet, Everhard switched on the auto pilot and decided to take a look at the beautiful aircraft he had liberated.

           Behind the cockpit, a dozen plushly upholstered captain’s chairs made up the passenger’s compartment.  It also sported a fully stocked bar.  A door to another compartment aft opened and a beautiful redhead, wearing only a black bra and thong panties emerged holding a drink in her right hand.  She turned, gave Everhard a surprised look and said, “Who the hell are you?  And where the hell is Carlos?”

 

Scene 9

           Everhard eyed the beautiful redhead and said to her, “Carlos must have missed his flight.”  The redhead’s temper flared and she said, “Listen here, whoever you are, when Carlos catches up with you, your life won’t be worth…….” Everhard cut her off with an embrace and a deep kiss.  The redhead struggled momentarily and then, slowly, but steadily relaxed in his arms.  Moments later he lowered her to the plush carpeting on the floor and together, they became eligible  for membership into the world famous “five mile high club.”

           After they made love, James told her, “Excuse me, but I have to get back to the controls.  By the way, what is your name?”  As if in a trance, the redhead said, “Holly, Holly Greathead.”  “Nice to meet you Holly”, James said, “Name’s Everhard, James, Everhard.”  Introductions complete, they dressed again and James headed back to the cockpit followed by a somewhat bewildered Holly Greathead, pulling on her sexy black lingerie.

           Everhard took the controls again and put on the headset.  Mexico City ATC was calling his aircraft by tail number.  When Everhard acknowledged, the controller politely informed him that they would be tracking him until he entered San Diego airspace, and again the friendly controller wished him a pleasant flight.  “Such very nice people,” Everhard remarked.

           Holly Greathead took the co-pilot’s seat and stared for a moment at the flamboyant detective.  “James, do you mean to tell me that you stole this airplane back at Cartagena ?  From Carlos Rozales?  The most ruthless Drug Lord in all of South America?”  Holly asked him incredulously.  “I’d call stole a rather harsh term. I merely borrowed it long enough to fly it home. You see, I was stranded. He can have it back.”  Everhard answered her matter-of-factly.  Holly Greathead fell back into her seat flabbergasted.  “Do you know what’s in the cargo hold?” Holly screeched.  “Just 10 million dollars worth of cocaine, a stash of automatic weapons, and enough high octane marijuana to stone all of L.A.  Carlos was going to take it to Guadalajara for safe keeping.” Holly could not believe it!    “Hmmm”, James said, “You think he’ll be upset?”  “Are you fricking kidding??!! Holly shouted at him, “I once saw him empty an Uzi machine pistol into a guy who accidentally splashed some mud on his new silk trousers!  He’s going to fricking remove the skin from your bones!”  “Surely not”, Everhard said calmly, everyone else I’ve met on this trip has been so cordial!”

 

Scene 10

 

Everhard clicked the radio dial to a cell phone frequency and dialed in the number of his old friend , Chief of Detectives Bill Chaple.  Back at the newly refurbished Rick’s Café American’, Chaple’s cell phone buzzed.  “Chaple here.”  The detective answered.  “Bill, it’s me Everhard.”  The voice over the phone told him.  “James, Where the hell??” Chaple stammered.  “Just listen, I need your help.  I’m at 25,000 feet, descending to and approaching San Diego International.  I’m about an hour out.  Now here’s what I need you to do and fast!”  Everhard laid out his entire plan.  “Okay James, I’m on it!”  Chaple told him.  Chief of Detectives Bill Chaple (retired) ordered another double scotch from the brand new bartender, Rick, and dialed his cell.  “Hello San Diego D.E.A., this is Chief of Detectives Bill Chaple.  I have good news for you boys.” And Bill Chaple set the plan into motion.

           “Holley, I need you to call Carlos.  Tell him that you’re aboard the plane, and that some crazy gringo has stolen it.  He is landing at San Diego in an hour and you don’t know what to do.”  Everhard handed her the headset and dialed the number she gave him. When Carlos Rozales received the call, he was on board his older Lear Jet high above Guadalajara, Mexico.  He became so incredibly furious that he ordered his pilot to change course to San Diego immediately and hit afterburners, so we could catch a fricking crazy gringo!.  The pilot did exactly as ordered.  Estimated in flight time to San Diego on afterburners, the pilot calculated, approximately 58 minutes, with very little fuel to spare.

           Everhard, put the Lear on autopilot and went back to Rozales’ dressing room.  Fortunately, they were about the same size.  Everhard picked out some beautiful linen slacks and a silk shirt and put them on.  Holley also dressed in an expensive Designer Pants outfit.  In just 10 minutes flat, Everhard was back at the controls, on final approach to San Diego.

           A few minutes later, Everhard was not surprised when San Diego ATC, told him to land on runway 33, which was an isolated area of the huge airport.  Everhard landed the jet perfectly and taxied to a remote hangar.  Another Lear Jet, landed on runway 33, not two minutes behind Everhard.  The second Lear Jet also taxied towards the remote hangar.

           On the ground, with the jet stopped and shut down, Everhard and Holly Greathead opened the cockpit door and climbed down the short ladder to the tarmac.  The second Lear Jet taxied up to within a few feet of the first.  While the jet’s engines were still whining and shutting down, the door opened and a furious Carlos Rozales jumped out with two of his armed thugs.  When Rozales saw Everhard wearing his clothes with Holley Greathead on his arm, he screamed, “Kill the bastard!”  One of the thugs raised a machine pistol.  Kaboom !  The sound of a twelve gauge shotgun roared and echoed through the airfield.  The sound of Chaple’s trusty sawed off Mossburg was unmistakable.  The thug pointing his weapon was reduced to a bloody smear on the side of the second aircraft.  The others and Carlos Rozales immediately tossed away their weapons and raised their hands high.  Two dozen D.E.A. agents brandishing automatic weapons poured out of the old hangar.  “Carlos Rozales, welcome to the U.S.of A!”  The agent in charge yelled.  “I have a warrant for your arrest on the charges of racketeering, drug smuggling and murder.  Read him his rights boys!”  All of the persons on Rozales’ aircraft were taken roughly into custody and hustled away in five black Ford Victorias.  Chief of Operations D.E.A., for California, Dave Graffy came over and shook the hands of James Everhard and Bill Chaple.  He told them,  “Both planes are crammed full of dope and weapons.  We have enough to put Rozales away for life!  We never could get him to cross the border.  How did you guys ever do it?”  Everhard, smiled and said, “It was all Bill’s idea.  We just took something he wanted.”  The threesome then walked away to Chaple’s waiting car.

 

…………………………………………END

 

Epilogue;  6 months later.  Rozales was found guilty of murder and a half dozen lesser charges and was sentenced to death.  He is currently on death row at San Quentin.  The D.E.A., in its gratitude for Everhard and Chaple bringing in Rozales and his henchmen, as well as two aircraft worth 20 million dollars,  a huge cash of automatic weapons, and drugs with a street value of nearly 20 million dollars, which amounted to the state’s largest drug bust ever, presented the new Lear Jet to Everhard and Chaple.  Holley Greathead now lives in a luxurious apartment around the corner from Rick’s Café’ American’ and is often seen on the arm of Chief of Detectives Bill Chaple (retired).  The rumor concerning James Everhard has cooled down and the detective continues to live quietly and occasionally visit Rick’s Place.  After all, the illusive Rick personally tends the bar now!..........             ..........DONE