Homo Olivarious

By James Beeson

Homo Olivarious is a relatively new species of mankind. Members have an attractive olive colored skin. They are also prescient. They are both envied and feared. As with Sapiens, they run the spectrum of human behavior.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781796082258

James Beeson

Dr. Beeson was born in 1926, the son of an Indiana farmer. He skipped the 12th. grade, was accepted in to the Navy College Training Program, and sent to Notre Dame University. He graduated from Indiana Medical School at 22. He is a board certified anesthesiologist who practiced his profession for 42 years in Jacksonville, FL. He was a caregiver for his beloved wife for six years. He married his late wife's best friend (widow). who was, is and ever will be beloved. He has five children, several stepchildren, grandchildren, step grandchildren, and a growing number of "greats" whom he loves with all his heart. He is chronically happy. How could he be otherwise?

Book preview

Chapter One

Max Crater was now forty-five years old. His marriage to his secretary, Linda, had been very successful both in domestic tranquility and procreational achievement. Anna was five, and Zack was four. Both were precocious and a handful.

Considering how stressful his life had been five years earlier, life had been milk and honey since then. He had all the work he cared to handle. Misunderstood husbands continued to find young ladies who empathized with them and graciously accepted the package deals. Distrustful spouses continued to seek validation of their suspicions. Cell phone cameras were more than adequate to produce the sought-after evidence.

Occasionally, the genders were reversed. He was an equal opportunity PI.

He had come to wish for a challenge off the beaten path. Be careful what you wish for.

Mrs. Nora Ortega was the matriarch of a very successful illicit drug business in Jacksonville, Florida. She avoided bumps in the road with the help of a mystical Haitian by the name of Jaque LeBeau, who was prescient—like, really prescient.

Max had been of service to her on several occasions, one of which was impregnating her unwed daughter, Vanessa. Van had the palest of eyes and beautiful olive skin, much as Jaque did. Nora wanted an heir for professional as well as personal reasons.

Max was the chosen one. Little Max was born uneventfully, featuring his mother’s traits. Some busybodies thought Jaque was her biological father. Sometimes they’re right.

Max had love for Vanessa but could not bring himself to embrace her business. He might well have married her were it not for that.

The police would be worthless! Nora said.

We need Max, Vanessa suggested.

He should have a vested interest in this. Were it not for Little Max’s premonition, he would have been the one kidnapped rather than Logan’s son.

Logan was a faithful longtime employee of the Ortega organization. Two days before, he needed to visit the nearest Walmart store for several items. He often took his son with him. The boy was friends with Max and begged all concerned to allow Max to accompany them.

It is too dangerous, Max said firmly.

To a Walmart? Logan asked.

Yes, sir.

One of your premonitions?

Yes, sir.

Logan should have heeded Max’s warning.

Chapter Two

Stag and Shelby Frost were brothers. Among the many things the two of them had in common was a disinclination to work for a living. Their father had worked hard and died young. Like Spock, they wanted to live long and prosper. Their last and most successful caper validated their contention.

They liked Miami even though they didn’t speak a word of Spanish. Like it or not, they left town immediately after the half-million dollars was safely in their possession. Procrastination might well have been lethal. Drug dealers take a dim view of being robbed.

The two monitored the comings and goings of the various employees of the leader of the most active drug purveyors in Miami. They also visited sites near Miami where a transfer of funds could be successfully accomplished. They found one thirteen miles from Miami. A two-lane bridge was mandatory. A sweeping curve leading to the bridge on the escape side with a clear view on the other met their formula. Individual homes with the customary streets adjacent on the curve side fit their needs. They parked the second stolen car in the driveway of a vacant house on one of those streets. As to the planned kidnapping, there was a seven-year-old boy who seemed to be daddy’s favorite. He would be the target. It took three weeks for the opportunity to occur. A group visit to the local friendly neighborhood Walmart included the boy.

As Stag shadowed the group, Shelby sidled over to the fire alarm device. When the group was in the deeper part of the store, he pulled the lever. All hell broke loose. The store was full, so humanity was crowded at and in the back of the main exit.

Stag infiltrated the drug group and, a bit like a cowboy cutting one cow from the herd, dragged the boy aside. The boy’s protestations went unheard and unheeded.

By the time the group had reassembled outside, Stag, Shelby, and their valuable hostage were driving out of the parking lot. They explained to the terrified boy that no harm would come to him unless he got too noisy.

Their apartment was fairly secluded, and after his first scream and the application of some duct tape to his lips, the boy saw the value of being quiet.

The computer-generated note was explicit: $500,000 within three days, and no harm comes to the child.

Try as they might the first day after the kidnapping, no clue was to be found as to the boy’s whereabouts. The police were not involved.

The next day, another note came. Day 1 was crossed out.

Day 2 was crossed out the next day. The father capitulated and obtained the money.

The transfer site was sent to him only at the last moment to minimize ancillary intrusion. The note read, Only one person with the money. Any audience and the boy disappears.

The ski mask–attired brothers had set the payment site up so that the boy would be released as soon as the money transfer had been verified. Before that, they would have the man’s car turned sideways so as to block traffic in both directions. They would then shoot the car’s tires out and confiscate the car keys. By the time any second car could get past the obstruction, the brothers would be long gone. Their escape side was free of any cars unlike the other.

The kidnappers assumed there would be a hidden car somewhere around the curve. That way, when they darted into the street where they had parked the second car, they could switch to it and, with one of them hidden, casually drive away as the henchmen waited for the described kidnapper car.

When the boy’s father had eased up on his hug enough for the boy to speak, he animatedly told him of his adventure. Money was everywhere, but this was his only son.

Next stop: Jacksonville.

Chapter Three

The brothers visited multiple sites in the Jacksonville area seeking a safe place for any transfer of money. They settled on such a place near Yulee. It had a two-lane road, a bridge, minimal traffic, and even a sweeping curve that obstructed the view of anyone on the side of the bridge, opposite the side where the business would be conducted.

They ran out of fire-alarmed buildings just as fast in Jacksonville as they did in Miami. The kidnapping again went smoothly for Stag and Shelby, an unimpeded getaway.

Now, Max, no one is going to hurt you. We just want some money for your return, OK?

He was unbelievably calm! I guess so, except my name isn’t Max.

What the hell do we do now? Stag asked.

Give them a reduced rate? Shelby suggested.

Wonder what an employee’s kid is worth?

Why don’t we contact the people and ask how much they would be willing to pay for the safe return of the kid?

Maybe we could get into a bidding war.

What do you think we should do? Van asked Max.

Appear to concede some money to them, and I’ll solve the problem.

How about we offer them $50,000?

They’ll ask for a hundred, and we submit.

How will you solve the problem?

I don’t know yet, but they were trying to kidnap our son, so I will solve the problem!

Benny is doing OK for someone whose son just got kidnapped. He knows there can’t be an astronomical settlement. He’s grateful you’re with us in this.

Little Max said, When the time comes, I will know of their whereabouts. He is safe for now. Big Max marveled at the mature demeanor of his prescient eight-year-old son.

Sometimes it’s a maybe with your visions.

Not this time. We will prevail, and my friend will be uninjured.

Those present believed him.

Chapter Four

As usual, the computer-generated note was delivered by a courier who knew absolutely nothing about the sender.

$100,000, three days from now. Location for transfer will be sent on the third day. Any police involvement would have dire consequences.

The courier had been instructed to wait for a reply and did so.

The reply note read, We agree. Absolute proof that the child is unharmed must precede any transfer.

They agreed! I thought they might not bounce for a lowly employee.

Where should we go next?

Let’s complete this one before we start dreaming up others.

Will you take me to the place where the money is to be transferred? Little Max asked.

We don’t know where it is yet.

I do.

Big Max envisioned how the kidnappers would likely be playing things out.

They will block both lanes, likely with our car. We’ll be on one side, and they’ll be on the other. With that curve in the road, no second car could lay in wait for them within sight. They’ll likely have the road on their side of the bridge blocked with closed cones.

Max bent down and looked at the underpinnings of the bridge. He could easily climb down and get beneath it. He could also quickly get back up. Looked like a plan.

How about here? Max asked.

Little Max answered, Go ten feet further that way and you will be well behind them.

The topography was the same there, so that was a feasible place to hide.

Won’t they think to look under the bridge?

They will not.

Will I have to shoot them all?

Not more than two.

That’s reassuring.

The epistle on the third day was explicit: Go to the two-lane bridge near Yulee.

Chapter Five

Are we going to keep the rope around his neck at the bridge?

Of course. The last thing we’d need would be for him to bolt to the others.

You’re right. Where should we go next?

One thought is Tallahassee. Lots of rich legislators there.

How do you know they’re rich?

They all get rich, doofus!

This is almost too easy.

Don’t get cocky. We’ve been lucky up to this point. Maybe we should just lay low and spend our money for now.

Good idea. Tallahassee will always be there.

Anything else I should know? Big Max asked.

No, sir. Well, there is one thing—I love you. Right between the eyes!

I most assuredly do love you too.

I know. I just wanted to hear it.

Do you know if these turkeys have pulled this stunt elsewhere?

Miami.

Recently?

Very.

A tidy sum?

Very.

Do you know where that money went?

No. It’s still in cash somewhere.

And no harm will come to your buddy?

No.

Do you like our plan?

Yes.

You don’t elaborate much.

Succinct is always good.

Brevity is the soul of wit?

Yes.

"Do you have any trouble having all this stuff in your mind at one time?

Not really.

Aha! Two words.

Slip.

Max was taken to and let out of the car two blocks away from the designated bridge two hours before the arranged meeting time. They drove away, leaving him to get himself settled under the bridge. They would return at the appointed hour.

Let the games begin!

Chapter Six

There were no vacant houses on the escape street, so they parked their second stolen car on the road. One hour before the meeting time, the men laid out multiple street cones indicating that the bridge was closed. Max was unaware of their pattern. Max had tired of his tenuous perch beneath the bridge, but it had to be. He would be able to return to the street level in five seconds when the magic moment arose.

It was now 2:00 p.m. From both ends, a car slowly approached the bridge, weaving between the cones. Like slow motion, which it was, the cars at both ends of the bridge edged closer to each other. The kidnapper’s car stopped, and the opposite car stopped also. The vehicles were then some thirty yards apart.

Both men and the boy with the rope around his neck eased out of their car. They had drawn guns in their hands and were looking in all directions for any distraction. None appeared. They had ski masks on, and they slowly went a few yards toward the other car.

Dayton Ashby, Little Max’s stepfather, was carrying the bag with the money as he stepped out of his car.

The kidnapped boy’s father had to be restrained when he saw the rope around his son’s neck. Little Max assured him it was harmless.

Bring the bag over here and place it on the pavement. No false starts or we shoot the kid and you!

Dayton walked slowly toward the men. He was unarmed, but he was wearing a Kevlar vest. He stood by as one of the men assured himself that the money was there.

Now walk to your car and bring the car keys back to us.

Dayton did as he was told. The keys were promptly thrown off the bridge.

Now return to your car and the boy will be released.

When Dayton was halfway back, they removed the rope from the boy’s neck and told him to go to the other car. Fast as he could run, he did so.

That was what Max had been waiting for.

Chapter Seven

Max made it to the bridge surface with ease. The angle he employed precluded any cross fire bullets from going toward the good guys. The two men had holstered their guns in preparation for getting into their car.

He shouted, Hands on your heads! Reach for your gun, and I’ll shoot you both! I’m a very good shot!

The brothers looked at each other, unsure just what to do. One nodded, which was a prearranged signal for them to draw their guns, and they tried to do so. Max shot the closer one to him while the other man ducked behind the car.

I’ve got six more bullets in my gun. Throw your weapon down, and I won’t shoot you!

Perhaps it was due to the wounded brother, who was letting out loud wails, that the second brother dropped his gun.

By this time, Dayton was running toward them with a gun in his hand. Under control? he called out.

Max was on his phone, calling 911 for police and an ambulance.

The vertical brother was altogether dejected. The horizontal brother continued to wail in pain and in fear of dying.

Dayton picked up the ransom container and took it back to his car. The newly freed little boy had lost all his fear and was bouncing around his much-relieved father as they walked toward the brothers’ car. Well, it wasn’t really theirs; it had been stolen from a supermarket parking area three days before.

Max noticed an unmailed letter on the car seat. He retrieved it and asked the vertical brother if he’d like it mailed.

It doesn’t matter now.

Max noted the return address on the letter. He thought it might be a good idea to visit the apartment before the police did.

A second friendly car arrived before the police did. Vanessa and Little Max were in it.

Dad, when you are through here, you should go to their apartment before the police do.

OK, and why is that?

The evidence in the freezer.

Enigmatic as that was, Max had learned that it was always best to listen to his son.

As soon as the police were through with all of them, for now, Max commandeered the second car and, along with Vanessa and Little Max, went to the apartment. He had no problem picking the lock, and the three of them entered unnoticed.

So what’s with the freezer? Max asked his son.

See for yourself.

The freezer compartment was chock-full with just one cloth bag, which was bulging from its contents. Max wasn’t surprised at the money being there, but he was surprised at the quantity.

Time to go!

They hastily departed, having no interest in anything else there.

Driving back to the Ortega compound, Max asked, Do you think this wasn’t their first caper?

Probably—but it’s likely their last.

Chapter Eight

Tip Chase