A James Everhard Adventure

by Wayne Wallace

"Just because you’ve slept with her is no reason to vote for her for President!" roared Bud Magnum. "I feel that it is the least I can do under the circumstances," replied James Everhard, "Besides, how many of you can say you’ve slept with a president?" Immediately, eight beautiful women within earshot of the conversation raised their hands. "The first Clinton administration excluded". Everhard added. The women dejectedly lowered their hands and went back to their conversations and drinks. "However, since Oprah endorsed Obama, Hillary may not even get the nomination," said Rick from behind the bar of his famous establishment. "Trust me", Everhard said, "she’ll get the nomination. If a buffoon like Bush could fix Florida in 2000, surely the Clintons can rig a simple little Democratic nomination!" "Yeah, probably so," grumbled Chief of Detectives, (retired), Bill Chapel around the stub of his ever present stogie. "Fricking politicians, I’m sick of them all! Another scotch if you will Rick."

"Are you still claiming that Bush fixed the Florida vote in the 2000 election?" Ken Oldman asked Everhard. "No Ken, I’m not. After eight years of this administration, I’m convinced that Bush himself couldn’t fix a broken shoelace. No, he could never have pulled that off! I’m sure his people did though. Old CIA cronies of his daddy’s," Everhard said. "You’re just a hopeless liberal James." Oldman said, shaking his head.

The front door opened and immediately, the cold north winter wind was felt before the "redhead", a fixture at Rick’s, could close the door. "I had to warm my ass up! I’m getting too damned old to work the streets boys. I think I’ll just take out a yellow pages ad." "You can’t do that Red. Then I’d have to bust you." Chapel grumbled. "You’re retired Bill. Besides you’re one of Red’s best customers. Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest?" Rick asked. "Whatever," slurred the aging detective. "I’m beginning to worry about Chapel," Rick said quietly to Everhard, "He’s drinking way too much and he’s always in a foul mood." "Ah, he’s alright, he’s just missing the action. He hates being retired. He misses not blowing up some bad guy with his 12 gauge. Hell, he hasn’t blown anybody’s head off since Baghdad, and how long has that been, two years?" Everhard said, "He’ll snap out of it just as soon as we get a new story."

"How about you boys," Red asked, "anybody in the mood? I’m offering Chapel’s frequent user’s discount for anybody, tonight only." When Red got no takers, Everhard fished a hundred out of his wallet and told her, "Take the evening off Red, on me." "Thank you Jimmy my love, you’re the best!" Red said and planted a big kiss on Everhard’s cheek.

"When are you guys getting a new story?" Manners asked. "WW hasn’t written much lately that I’ve seen." "Well Tom, Bill and I used to get really pissed at Wallace for taking these long sabbaticals from writing but I understand why it all happened now. He told me that at one point in his life, stories just rolled out of his head. He kept Bill and me working, every week a new story popped up and we were in another part of the world. But WW says that his imagination just sort of dried up. He took a stab at serious writing for a while but that was way too much work, not fun like our old stories. But he’s trying to get the old groove back. It won’t be long. Don’t give up on him Tom." "Don’t worry James, I’m just looking forward to the next James Everhard adventure and hoping that it won’t be so long that somebody will have to read it to me at the old folks home!" Tom Manners replied.

"Hey, anybody in here driving a white Corvette?" a man coming in the front door yelled. "Yeah, that would be me. Why, what’s the matter?" Tom Manners asked. "Truck’s towing it off." The man said and gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. Manners ran out the door. "That happens every time Democrats park in the, ‘reserved for Republicans’ spot out front." Bud Magnum said. "Jim Troxel parked there last year and the cops towed his car and kept it for two weeks! Cost him $500 to get it out of hock!" "How the hell do they know it’s a Democrat’s car? asked Everhard. "Beats me," answered Magnum. Rick just grinned and continued polishing shot glasses behind the bar.