A Cult in Paradise; Episode 1, The Visit from Waldo Franks

This is episode number one of the fifth book in the Trace Troy Adventures in  Paradise series. The Title is A Cult in Paradise. It will be featured in episodes over the next few months. It will eventually be published in full on Amazon. All of the Trace Troy books, as well as my other novels, can be purchased on Amazon by clicking the Bookstore tab above. I hope you enjoy. And thanks for stopping by. 

The Visit from Waldo Franks

Adam and Coyote packed their bags two hours before arriving at Suva’s harbor. Before unloading a cargo of coffee, they placed their bags on the pier. They unloaded the coffee from the ship’s hold onto the truck. As soon as the truck drove the shipment of coffee away, a feeling of finality fell over the crew of The Tramp Islander.

Makani had departed to visit relatives as soon as they docked. Trace told him to take a week and relax. Trace had the feeling Makani might decide to quit and seek another life with his share of the gold from a previous trip. He told him to give him a call as soon as he decides not to come back. Otherwise, return after a week. 

When Makani parted, no one expected to see him again. It was almost like a farewell party. 

Trace, Adam, Sage, and Coyote sat on the benches of the aft deck of The Tramp Islander. The sun illuminated a wild orange sky hanging over the etched tops of the green mountains to the west of Suva’s harbor. 

“What are you two young fellers gonna do without us?” Coyote said.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Trace grinned.

“No,” Adam said, “really, what’s next?”

“I’m staying on,” Sage said. “Trace said he’s not quite had enough of this place, and I’m inclined to think the same. Not because he does, but because that’s just the way I feel. If Trace were to up and leave, it would be on his own. Who knows, if he offers, I might even buy The Tramp Islander.”

“I feel like I’ve only tasted this place,” Trace said. “I’d like to settle in for a bit. I feel I’m needed here. I feel, for now, I've got things on the horizon and that is here.” Trace paused, “You really want to buy this?”

“Ah, don’t take me seriously,” Sage said. “It seemed to slip out without thinking. And I kind of wanted to see the look on your face.”

“Well,” Adam said, “I have a ranch to run and so does Coyote. I’m not speaking for Coyote, he’s told me as much.”

“Amen,” Coyote affirmed.

“I have a few old friends here, I’d like to say goodbye to,” Adam said. “And if Coyote doesn’t mind, I’ll drag him along for backup.”

“You gonna need backup?” Coyote asked as if waking up.

“Ya never know,” Adam said, “some old timers with grudges might still be around.”

“So,” Coyote asked, “what you young-uns got up your sleeve?”

“You're the captain,” Sage said, ushering his hand toward Trace.

Trace breathed deep and clicked his cheek. “It’s hard to make plans in this business. You just go where the cargo takes you. But, we are likely going to have to replace Makani. I don’t even want to think about that. Not only is he a good cook, but he knows what’s going on. He jumps in wherever needed, and nobody has to ask him. So, that’s mission impossible. The mission next to impossible is to find two guys to replace you guys.” He gestured toward Adam and Coyote.

“Ahh,” Coyote said, “you’re givin’ us way too much credit.”

“Let the boy speak,” Adam said, and smiled. “He’s making sense—finally”

“What I think will happen is that we hire a couple of guys, and they go AWOL on us at our first port,” Trace said. 

“Here’s what I think,” Adam said. He leaned forward and spoke directly to Trace. “When I owned the Tiki, it had a reputation, a good one. You and The Tramp Islander have a good reputation. I’ve heard good things from several people around Suva. Good people will come your way. All you have to do is put out the word. They’ll come. You and Sage may have to sift through them, but they’ll come. Right, Coyote?”

“That’s Gospel,” Coyote said. “While ranchin’, we had some despicable hombres come our way. But if they worked for us, they knew what was required. I bet we reformed more desperados than the entire Texas prison system.”

“Didn’t you have to shoot a few?” Adam joked.

“Hey,” Coyote said, “I only shot one of ‘em. And that was an accident.”

“You liar!” Adam said, smiling, “The only accident was you shot his shoulder and not his head.”

“Well,” Coyote said, “it was reported as an accident and that’s official.”

They all laughed.

“It’s a pity this is coming to an end,” Trace said.

“Sure is,” Adam said.

“Yep,” Sage said.

“Amen,” Coyote said. 

The conversation and laughter continued. As the sun sank further behind the mountains and the sun’s glow became dimmer, the conversation and laughter settled.

An hour after dark descended over Suva, all heads turned to a very strange sound: the rumble of several loud engines.

“Sounds like a motorcycle convention has come to town,” Coyote said.

“They don’t have gangs here, do they?” Sage said.

The sounds grew louder and closer.

Two police motorcycles turned onto the street adjacent to the pier. A police Land Rover followed them. And then two more police motorcycles behind the Land Rover. They stopped next to The Tramp Islander.

“Are they coming to get us for that business back in Raro?” Sage said. 

“Geez,” Coyote said, “looks like they come ready for a shootout.”

They stood and craned their necks to see what would happen next.

All the motorcycle engines stopped. Two men slipped out of the Land Rover and stood at the back door. One man opened the back door. A man stepped out—a short man. He stood and stretched, and looked around. He smiled.

“Does anybody know who that is?” Adam said. 

“I do,” Trace said. “It’s an old friend—Waldo Franks.”

“You say that like you’re not really friends,” Adam said.

“We’re not,” Trace said. “I helped send him to prison. He owned the casino where I won The Tramp Islander. It’s a long story, but I helped put him behind bars. This can’t be good.”

“What is he doing here?” Adam said.

“I don’t know,” Trace said, “but the last I heard, he’d be in jail for a very long time.”

“Yal zir,” Coyote said, “Ain’t none of this looks good.”

 “The only time you use ‘good’ and Waldo Franks' name in the same sentence is to say, ‘goodbye,’” Trace said.

“I’ll meet them at the gangplank,” Trace said. “It’s obvious they’ve come to see me. Duck below. I’ll tell them no one else is here.”

“Let’s not start a web of lies,” Adam said. “We’re here, and that’s a fact.”

“This has to be something else,” Trace said. “He’s supposed to be in prison, and he’s not. This is a meeting. He wants something. Maybe he’s cut a deal and he needs me to complete it. It has to be big.”

“That’s for sure,” Coyote said. “Looks like half of the Fiji police force is with him.”

“You guys stay here,” Trace said. “I’ll go find out what this is all about.”

Trace walked forward, alongside the pilothouse. Everyone followed.

Trace turned around and glared. He said, “I thought I told everyone to stay here.”

“Here is where you are,” Coyote said. “That makes here, wherever you are.”

“Dern Texas logic,” Trace said.

“We’re coming with you,” Adam said. 

“This has nothing to do with you guys,” Trace said. “It has to do with all that happened when I first arrived.”

“Makes no difference,” Adam bobbed his head forward. “Just lead the way.” 

Two Tamas in Paradise; Episode 50, The Last Adventure in Paradise

This is episode fifty of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. This is the last episode of the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series.  

It may now be purchased on Amazon. It is available in paperback or Kindle digital format. 

The next novel will be A Cult in Paradise.

The Last Adventure in Paradise

Trace navigated The Tramp Island through an opening in the coral reef on the west side of Niue. The Port of Alofi hugged the western coast of Niue. Trace docked The Tramp Islander there. 

A uniformed island official greeted them warmly at the dock and checked their passports.

“How long do you plan on staying?” the official asked.

“We would like to stay all day tomorrow and leave early the next day,” Trace said.

He smiled. “We would love to have you stay longer.”

“That sounds tempting,” Trace said. “The crew would enjoy it, but we have a load of coffee to deliver to Fiji.”

“I understand,” he said. “We would not want the Fijians to do without coffee. Who knows, it might cause an uprising.”

Trace smiled. “There’s been uprisings for less.”

“All we ask is that you obey our laws,” he said. “If your manners are good and you’re reasonable, you will probably be fine. And by the way, we in Niue drive on the left side.” He smiled. “The truth is, our roads are narrow, we don’t have a right side.”

“You might be able to help us a little,” Trace said. “We do have room to ship some cargo. If you know of anyone who needs to have something shipped to Fiji or someplace along the way, we’d be much obliged.”

“I don’t know of anything at the moment,” he said. “If something comes up, I’ll direct them to your boat.”

“Much thanks, sir,” Trace said.

The official walked to an unmarked Rover and drove away.

Trace turned to everybody and quipped, “Do you think we can manage to avoid trouble on this island?”

Makani stayed on the ship. Trace, Adam, Sage, and Coyote looked for a place to have a beer. A little less than a mile away, they came across a cafe.

The only person there was the owner, a woman in her early fifties. She was tourist-friendly and asked a lot of questions. She lost real interest once finding out everybody was from a cargo sailing vessel and not likely to spend much time or money on the island. 

They ate a meal and had a couple of beers each. A hefty tip was left. Trace looked over his shoulder as they walked away. He wanted to see her reaction to the tip. She smiled broadly and waved.

Sage and Coyote walked further ahead of Trace and Adam.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Trace said.

Adam looked around. “Yeah, a couple of times.”

“I bet the place has grown some,” Trace said.

“Not really,” Adam said. “This used to be a jumping little port. It’s dead compared to what it used to be. I wonder where everybody went. Probably to New Zealand or Australia: education, opportunity, entertainment, the usual stuff.”

“You look disappointed,” Trace said.

“I am,” Adam said. “I expected Suva to change, but small islands like this, you sort of expect them to be the same. And if not the same, prosper and grow. It’s like those small towns around us; they hardly have a pulse. When I was here before, about the time you left, the sound of the music from one place, you picked up the music from the next.”

“Did you have any friends here?” Trace said.

“There was a guy, Peter Braxton, he had a trading company right across from where we’re docked at now,” Adam said. “He was an old man then. He has to be dead now. We’d haul produce and bring hardware, canned goods, lumber, and so on.”

“I hope you’re not disappointed in coming here,” Trace said.

“Not at all,” Adam said. “The whole trip reminds me of the man I once was. I’m okay with who I am now. But I got to where I am now by being the man I was then.”

“Does that mean you’re ready to return to Texas?” Trace asked.

“I think so,” Adam said. “Coming to this place, well, it leaves me a little sick inside. This time we spent together, there’s no other place it could have been duplicated. I’ve had my last adventure in paradise, and who better to have it with?”

Two Tamas in Paradise; Episode 49, A Chat with Coyote.

This is episode forty-nine of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. There are fifty episodes. This is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series.  

It may now be purchased on Amazon. It is available in paperback or Kindle digital format. 

A Chat with Coyote

An hour out to sea, The Tramp Islander cut through the dark waters and split the waves. Trace walked around the pilothouse and looked out all the windows. His suspicion rested short of paranoia. Because there might be a possibility of someone desperate enough to follow. 

He heard the creak of steps coming up the companionway and leaned to see who. 

“Hey, Coyote,” Trace said. “Can’t sleep?”

“I’m starting to wind down,” Coyote said. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“There’s something about the sea that can set you on edge or calm you into a dream,” Trace said. “All that back there might as well be a thousand miles away.”

“What?” Coyote said. “You mean that back there. You’re dad and I have seen a lot tougher things than that.”

“I’m sure you have,” Trace said.

“I can’t begin to tell you how good of time I’ve had,” Coyote said. “I’m afraid it’s all coming to an end. I can feel it.”

Trace grinned. “You mean, you and Dad can’t stir up enough of something to keep our blood pressure up.”

“Don’t tempt us,” Coyote said.

“You know something,” Trace said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man as fast as you back there. You had that pistol out of his hand in a blink.”

“I have slowed a little,” Coyote said, “but,” he smiled, “I had some pent-up energy too. That’s a game we played when we were kids—not with real guns, cap pistols. We used to hold cap pistols to our heads. If you didn’t get it in time, made your ears ring; sometimes pert-near all day.”

“Are you going back after we get to Suva?” Trace said.

“Sounds like I’m being fired,” Coyote said. 

“Nah,” Trace said, “you work three times more than you’re paid.”

“Well, then,” Coyote said, “I guess we’re talkin’ raise. All kiddin’ aside, I haven’t given it a whole lot of thought. I’m enjoying myself. And I enjoy ranchin’ too.”

“The one thing I remember about you,” Trace said, “I don’t think there’s anything you don’t like.”

“Mincemeat pie,” Coyote said, “I don’t like mincemeat pie.”

“Nobody likes mincemeat pie,” Trace said. “How do you think Sage likes it here?”

“Don’t tell me he’s fired,” Coyote joked. “Seriously, it’s been good for him. I’m glad you thought about him when you needed a man.”

“Well,” Trace said, “I couldn’t think of anybody else. I trust only my dad and grandpa more.”

“You know me and Sage had a fallin’ out about a year ago, didn’t ya?” Coyote said.

“I didn’t know that,” Trace said. “He never said a word.”

“When Adam said he was coming here, and asked me if I’d like to come, I was packed and ready the same day,” Coyote said. “Of course, it was another three weeks before we got on the plane, but I was ready. I never want a word to come between us ever again.”

“The work isn’t too hard for you, is it?” Trace said.

“If you love what you’re doing, you’ll never work a hard day in your life,” Coyote said. “I’m here with Sage, Adam, Makani, and you, it’s not work. It’s a bunch of men doing what has to be done.”

“I’m glad it’s good for you,” Trace said.

“Are you afraid that if I go, I’ll take Sage with me?” Coyote said.

“I know I’ll have to replace Sage someday,” Trace said. “Maybe he’ll stay here as long as I do. He’s not meant to be my foreman or first mate. He’s a leader. He takes charge. Someday, he’ll be running your ranch. He has enough money to buy a good ranch, now.”

“I don’t want this to end,” Coyote said. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay on for a few more trips.”

“It’s fine with me,” Trace said.

“How are you and Adam doing?” Coyote asked. 

“We’re fine,” Trace said. “This has been good for both of us. Dad wanted to come back here. I sort of think he left something here, and wants to find it. If you know what I mean.”

“I think so,” Coyote said. “Over the years, he’d mention the South Seas. He always said that me and him should go here sometime. He stopped talking about it until a couple of months ago. And here we are. I think it’s good for me and him. We’ve always been good friends. Friendships are going in one direction or another—together or apart.”

“We have over twenty-two hundred miles ahead of us,” Trace said. “There’s an island, Niue, it’s about fourteen hundred and fifty miles away. We’ll stop there.”

Coyote ruffled Trace’s hair. “Wake me when we get there.” He climbed down the companionway.

‘I wonder if Coyote has a good foreman,’ Trace thought. He chuckled. ‘He’s got a wife as good as any foreman.’

Trace checked his course and adjusted starboard three degrees. 

The sound of the waves crashing against the hull and the wind howling through the sails gave Trace a sense of tranquility and good.

Two Tamas in Paradise; Episode 48, Two Thugs

This is episode forty-eight of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. There are fifty episodes. This is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series.  

It may now be purchased on Amazon. It is available in paperback or Kindle digital format. 

Two Thugs

Two men walked from the darkness into the dim glow of light from a lamppost on the pier. They both wore dark sports jackets and pants. They appeared business-like. As they walked closer, the deck lights revealed their clothing to be dry-cleaned and pressed. Their faces, shadowed with stubbled whiskers. They stepped onto the gangplank and onboard. In the glow of the deck lights, they looked like thugs.

Holding cups of coffee, Trace, Adam, Sage, and Coyote watched them from where they sat on the cover of the forward hatch. 

Trace set the cup on the hatch’s cover and walked to within a few feet of the men. “Excuse me, gentlemen, my hearing may be bad, but I didn’t hear either of you asking permission to come aboard.”

“You’re hearing is fine,” one man said in a gravelly voice. “We didn’t ask permission.” 

“If that’s the case,” Trace said, standing, “step off and ask permission.”

The other man smirked. “No problem, but unload your cargo back onto the pier.”

Everyone stood and stepped closer to the two men, flanking Trace

“What’s going on here?” Trace said.

“We have the exclusive rights to ship the coffee from this island,” one man said. “We’re just taking what’s ours.”

Trace took another step. “Look, our broker has made the shipping arrangements. We accepted the cargo and loaded it. The only way it comes off is when it is delivered in Suva.”

The man stepped closer to Trace. “Unload the coffee from this piece of floating crap.”

“You don’t insult this boat,” Trace said.

Coyote stepped closer. 

“You have upset one of my crewmen,” Trace said. “I’d be careful.”

The other man who stood directly in front of Coyote pulled an automatic pistol from his belt. He held it on Coyote.

“Back off,” the man holding the pistol said.

“My name is Coyote.” In a snap, Coyote grabbed the man’s hand, twisted his wrist, and slipped the pistol from the man’s hand. It happened so quickly, the man’s face flashed with surprise. “Oh yeah, Coyote is where I left off. You’re standing way too close, and you didn’t have a round chamber anyway. You’re sort of new at this, aren’t you?. I, on the other hand, am not. Count yourself lucky, you and your friend don’t have another eye socket.”

Both men stepped back. 

Adam stepped over to see if the other man was carrying anything. “Nothing,” Adam said.

Coyote tossed the pistol overboard. 

“Look,” the one man said, “we just want what is ours.”

“It’s not yours,” Trace said. “So it’s best you lick your wounds and head back to wherever you came from. Here’s another thing, we just cut you some slack. Not only did we not shoot you, but we’re not going to report you to the island police. Carrying a weapon is against the law on this island. It’s two years in a French Polynesian prison. You have to get used to taking a crap in a ditch and wiping with a leaf.”

“We won’t leave until the coffee is unloaded,” the man said. “We can get other men to help us.”

Adam stepped forward. “Look, we’re all peaceful men by nature. But, it will take at least three of you to make it a fair fight with one of us. I’m not trying to pull your leg, it’s just a fact. We don’t want to hurt you and any of those phantom men you speak about. So please, sit and have a coffee with us or get off the ship. The coffee is very good.”

The men looked at each other. The one man motioned with his head toward shore. They stepped backwards until reaching the gangplank. They walked across the gangplank, and onto the pier.

Coyote stepped to the railing. “Hey, do you know why they call me Coyote?”

The men stopped and waited for a response.

“It’s because I’m so wily,” Coyote said. “Get it, Wile E. Coyote. You know the cartoon, The Roadrunner.”

They walked away, into the dark.

Coyote turned to the crew. “They have no sense of humor.”

“Maybe they don’t watch cartoons,” Trace said.

“Are you kidding me?” Adam said. “I bet that’s all they watch.”

“Between all the excitement and coffee, I don’t think I can sleep for a while,” Trace said. “How ‘bout the rest of you?”

“Are you thinking we should go ahead and shove off?” Sage said.

“Yeah,” Trace said.

“Let’s do it,” Adam said. “If you can take the wheel for four hours. I'll get some rest and relieve you.”

Sage and Coyote untied the lines and pulled the gangplank. Trace started the motor, and The Tramp Islander eased from the pier and turned to the open sea. Sage and Coyote hoisted the sails, and soon they were all at the bidding of the currents, the waves, and the winds.