This is episode twenty in the sixth novel of The Trace Troy Adventure Series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. Here are the links to The Double-Cross In Paradise: paperback, Kindle.
Informing The Crew
An orange glowing sun dipped halfway below the sea west of Port Vila. Two green land masses pinched from the south and north, squeezing the sun into the harbor. Makani, Paul, and Tom rested on the deck, watching the sunset. Their backs leaned against the haul’s hatch. They talked about their day. Their voices were lazy and contented.
Below, Trace tapped on Patterson’s door.
Patterson opened the door.
Trace motioned toward the mess table with his head. “Come on out and have a seat. I’m going to get the crew down here.”
Sage rounded up the crew. They strangled down the forward companionway and into the mess and salon area.
Makani stopped. He glared at Patterson and continued. Then came Paul, and then Tom.
“What’s he doing here?” Makani said disdainfully.
“Everybody have a seat,” Trace said.
They sat at the table. No one sat near Patterson.
“Makani,” Trace said, “when I gave you a job on The Tramp Islander, I had no idea what kind of person you were, none at all. All I cared about was now and the future. If I did know, I would have second thoughts about bringing you on. But I’m grateful you’re a part of this boat. I’m grateful for our friendship. Paul and Tom, it wasn’t money that made me go and rescue you two. A criminal needed help—Waldo Franks. I didn’t ask him if his son was as crooked as he was. I did it because I believed you, Paul, needed help. Tom, I knew nothing about your past and still don’t. This all goes for Sage, too. Right, Sage.”
Sage bobbed his head. “For as long as I can remember, Trace and me, when we find a stray, we return it to the herd; our herd or somebody else’s, makes no difference. We don’t know no other way. We got it from our daddies.”
“So listen up,” Trace said, and he told them about Patterson’s situation.
The crew asked Patterson a lot of questions. He answered honestly and without reservation.
“How we help him?” Makani said.
“Yeah,” Paul said, “how can we help?”
“That goes for me, too,” Tom said.
“The way I figure, is we have to get evidence to clear Patterson,” Trace said. “I’m not sure how we can do it. Somebody from inside has to rat his cohorts out, or evidence must be produced that would exonerate Patterson. And I don’t have a clue how to do either, effectively.”
“What about that guy, Cally?” Tom said. “Can he help with something like this?”
“I’d say yes, if we wanted to overthrow the nation of Vanuatu,” Trace said. “We don’t need a military or guerrilla operation.”
“Can we get the police involved?” Paul asked.
“Patterson is deep enough that he knows corruption has infiltrated the police,” Trace said. “And I’ve had my experience with government officials in the South Seas that confirms his assertions. The police will be no help.”
“It sounds like we’re at loggerheads,” Paul said.
“Not really,” Trace said, “I’m taking a flight tomorrow to Suva. And there, I’m going to talk to your dad, Waldo Franks.”
“My dad?” Paul said.
“Yeah,” Trace said. “Your dad might be able to help. He knows the crime network in the South Seas better than anybody.”
“That’s for sure,” Paul said, “it can all be linked back to him.” He added sarcastically, “My dad, I’m so proud.”
Sage, who sat beside Paul, affectionately grabbed his shoulder. “You’re a good kid. Your dad should be proud.”
“So,” Trace breathed deeply, “how do we feel?” He looked at everyone in the eye. “If you’re for seeing what we can do as a crew, hold up your right hand. Before you do, I will not ask any of you to risk your life or do anything illegal. And risks will be mine and mine alone. I only need your support.”
Sage and Makani raised their hands.
“I’m in,” Sage said. “Somebody has to save your butt.”
“Who fix you food?” Makani said. “Can’t do anything without good cook.”
“I’m in,” Paul said. “You risk it all for us.”
“Whatever I’m asked to do,” Tom said.
“I’m innocent,” Patterson said. “You’re not doing this for a guilty man.”
“One thing,” Paul said, “you are a criminal, just not a murderer. In fact, who knows how many have died because of the drugs you have sullied your hands with? My dad is a criminal. I know that. I’m learning to love him, but he’s still a crook. It’s who he is. I hope he can erase that. I guess what I’m trying to say is, are we getting you out of one mess just so you can go back and fly drugs somewhere?”
“I’ll be honest,” Patterson said, “I’ve thought of only getting out of this mess. I’ve thought only of myself. Believe me, I’ll never do anything like this again. I can promise you that. But consider this, please, from what I know about you: you got into a corrupt cult organization, thinking you were doing good. As you think back, logically, when should you have known it was all wrong? What was your real motivation? I don’t know the answers to those questions, but I bet in the final analysis, we aren’t that far apart. What you believed and promoted messed up a lot of lives. I’m not saying what I did and what you did are equal. I’m far worse.”
Paul’s eyes fell to the table.
“I know that you loathe me, my actions, and attitude on this boat—and my friends. Erin was a good man, he really was. He tagged along. The best I can do for him is find his killer, not clear my name. That, I’ve thought out. Our girlfriends, that’s all they were. Neither of us was in love with them, and they weren’t in love with us. We are irresponsible privileged kids in adult bodies. But both Erin and I risk our lives to save them. We could have left them high and dry, and right now, be sitting in class. We didn’t. Erin’s dead. He’s dead at my folly. The drugs, I never thought that far ahead. I just imagined college kids getting high. Yeah, I should have thought about all the other things: overdosing, robbing to get money to buy drugs, and all the other misery that comes from the illegal drug industry—I just didn’t think of it. Just as you and Tom never thought about those thousands dumped into a spiritual cesspool that leads to another type of misery.”
“I’m still in,” Paul said. He stood and slumped to his cabin.
There was more talk, and during the conversation between the crew, Trace eased away from the table. He tapped on Paul’s cabin door.
“Come in,” Paul said.
Trace only stuck his head inside the cabin. “How ya doin’?”
“I’m fine,” Paul said. “I got to hand it to Patterson, he provided a moment of clarity for me. I thought I was good until now. I have a lot to work out. Suddenly, my dad doesn’t seem so bad. I was so into it. I was part of a machine. Just a cog, maybe. No, I was more than that. I was a part of the motor that drove it all. I wised up, but never really owned anything. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you want to come with me? Trace said.
“Something might come up that we may have to put out to sea,” Paul said. “I’m needed here.”
“See ya in a couple of days,” Trace said. “I’m catching an early flight tomorrow for Suva.”
“Say hi to Dad for me,” Paul waved.
Trace nodded and shut the door.
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