This is episode three 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.
Planning Plans
The motorcade disappeared into the city night. Trace opened the hatch to the forward companionway. He was about the step down. A light green sedan stopped on the street in front of The Tramp Islander. The horn beeped three times. A man exited, holding a cardboard box with both arms.
“Trace Troy,” the man called out.
“Yeah,” Trace said, “what’s up?”
“Waldo Franks told me to deliver this to you,” the man said.
Trace walked to the gangplank, and the man handed him the box. “Mr. Franks said all the information he has is in this box.”
“Thanks,” Trace said. And the man walked back to the car and drove away.
Adam, Sage, and Coyote approached Trace. They looked curiously into the box.
“What do ya s’pose it is?” Coyote said.
“Let’s find out,” Trace said.
They used the forward companionway, and everyone climbed below. Coyote made coffee. And they sat at the mess table. Trace and Adam the meeting they had with Franks.
“Are you and your dad inclined to go along?” Trace asked Sage.
“That’s a lot to think over,” Coyote said.
“You guys talked to him,” Sage said. “Do you think it’s all on the up and up?”
“That was quite a show for it to be a charade,” Adam said.
Trace looked in the box. “This stuff just isn’t thrown in here. It’s carefully indexed and in order. This was put together by somebody who cares.”
“This is a no-brainer for me,” Sage said. “I didn’t plan on going anywhere anyways. Sure, let’s give it a shot.”
“This sounds like more fun than pigs at sloppin’ time,” Coyote said. “When do we ride?”
“I don’t want to be five days out to sea and wish we had planned better or brought something more with us,” Trace said. “Tomorrow, I’ll visit Franks. I’ll tell him the crew is all in. I’ll try to get a hold of Makani and tell him what’s up. I hope he’s agreeable to go. It will be hard to find a replacement under these conditions. And I’m not hiring anyone unless they know what they’re facing.”
“Why not let me handle Makani?” Adam said. “You take care of visiting Franks. I think there’s enough for you to do as it is.”
“Do you want us to get some firepower?” Coyote said. “You know, stuff that makes a lot of noise and scares the crap out of folks.”
Everyone rolled their eyes.
“I’m just funnin’,” Coyote said. “Everyone knows more money is stolen from banks by fraud and cookin’ the books than by shootin’ tellers and blowin’ the doors off the vaults.”
“I’m thinking it would be good that we all become familiar with the contents in this box,” Trace said. He pulled a map from the box. It was a map of the South Pacific. He placed his finger on the map’s scale in the legend. He measured the distance from Fiji to the island, Flint Island, using a pencil.
“About two thousand miles,” Trace murmured.
“Two weeks?” Sage said.
“Yeah,” Trace said. “That sounds like a long time.”
“The planning will take more than that,” Adam said. “We have to spend our time wisely. Instead of me looking for Makani, I have an old friend on the island. I think he would be a valuable resource of information for an operation like this one.”
“Yeah,” Sage said, “I might be the best one to talk to Makani. I won’t twist his arm—well, maybe a little.”
“What about me?” Coyote said, “I’m startin’ to feel as useless as clutch peddle on a trail horse.”
“I got something right down your alley,” Trace said. “Go to a bar named Sneaky Pete’s. Tell Pete who you are.”
“Coyote,” Coyote said, “that’s dumb. So that’s right down my alley, ay?”
“No,” Trace said, “I meant Adam Troy’s best friend, and you are on The Tramp Islander. Before you get there, estimate some firepower. Not a lot, just enough to let folks know we’re serious. Pete might be the man who can get what we need. And from the stories Dad has told me, he might even have what we need at the bar.”
“Now that’s an assignment I can comprehend,” Coyote said.
“And when you’re there, ask for a Singapore Sling,” Adam said.
Coyote winked.
They discussed plans and eventually went to bed.
The next morning, everyone headed in different directions to handle their assignments. Trace visited Allie in her office.
“Sit down,” Allie gestured to a chair in front of her desk. “Look at this.” Her head turned from side to side, looking at the pile of papers on top of both sides of her desk. “I’m swamped.”
“This is going to be hard to hear,” Trace grimaced, “but I have sort of a non-cargo charter. It will take at least two months.”
Allie leaned back in her chair. “Non-cargo, charter, you say.”
“Yeah,” Trace said. “I can’t carry any cargo. The Tramp Islander will be taking a charter voyage.”
“I know,” Allie said. “I sort of steered Franks your way.”
“You're in on this?” Trace asked.
“Kind of,” Allie said. “A few years back, shortly after my husband died, this business was going through a rough spell. I went to Franks’ casino. Had a little too much to drink, and I thought I could gamble my way out of a tough spot. Franks grabbed the dice from my hand, walked me back to his office, and gave me an interest-free loan, on the spot.”
“What did he ask in return?” Trace asked suspiciously.
“Not a thing,” Allie said, “until now.”
“So maybe he’s not so bad after all,” Trace said.
“He’s bad alright,” Allie said, “but if you have his friendship, that’s another thing. He got in touch, and I visited him. I told him about you and told him your dad was in town too. I told him, if anyone could help, it would be Adam—and his son.”
“How did he react when you told him Trace Troy was Adam Troy’s son?” Trace said.
“Well,” Allie said, “I thought his eyes were about to pop out of his head. Nothing rattles him. He has nerves of steel, but that rattled him plenty. It’s sort of funny, he said, ‘Can he be trusted to do something illegal?’”
“I told him the Troys are a strange breed,” Allie said. “They know the difference between right and wrong and the law. If anybody can help, it’s those two.”
“Does anyone else know about this?” Trace said. “I haven’t told a soul. Other than that, you’ll have to ask Franks.”
“Well, I guess I’m done here,” Trace said. “This was a courtesy call. I was all set to come here and feed you a lie about what was going on for the next couple of months. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have everything mapped out for me and the crew.”
“You’re trying to flatter me,” Allie said. “How soon will you be leaving?”
“I can’t say for sure,” Trace said. “We are planning the plans right now.”
“If there’s anything,” Allie said, “I can keep it on the down-low. I got friends in low places.”
“I’m about to visit one,” Trace said, “Franks.”
“Tell him I said hi,” Allie said.
“By the way,” Trace said, “did you ever pay him back?”
“Within sixty days,” Allie said. “That’s when the interest started. I told you, he’s not all good.”
Trace winked and stood. “If we don’t run into each other in the next couple of weeks, it’ll probably be a couple of months before I’m back in town.”
“Take care of you and your dad,” Allie said.
Trace grabbed the door knob and stopped. He turned to Allie. “Are you a religious person?”
“I got married in a church,” Allie said.
“Never mind,” Trace said. “I was going to ask you if you ever heard of Melchizedek.”
“Melted cheese on what?” Allie smiled.
“See ya in a couple of months,” Trace smiled and left Allie’s office.
No comments:
Post a Comment