This is episode twenty-two 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.
Visiting Sneaky Pete’s
Trace checked into the motel around the corner from Franks’ casino. By law, Franks had to sell it within ninety days of his conviction. It was sold to a long-time associate and stooge of Franks, named Bernie Beagle. Everything was on paper; no money exchanged hands. The money went from Franks’ account to Beagle’s. And Beagle knew better than to dip into that money for his own benefit. The joke around town was that the only reason Beagle had a driver was that he couldn’t figure out his way to the casino on his own. However, Beagle knew how to follow orders. If a left knee had to be broken, it wasn’t the right. Of course, he had to ask which one was the left.
It was near sunset. Trace called for a cab and took it to Sneaky Pete’s. Pete, the owner, had been with Trace on their last adventure rescuing members of a cult from Flint Island.
When Trace and his dad visited Sneaky Pete’s, a few months earlier, his dad said it had not changed in thirty years. It still needed to be painted, it smelled the same, and the same boards creaked while walking to the bar. The outside had peeling paint, and it was open air.
Trace sat at the bar. Pete, a robust Norwegian, worked behind the bar and gave Trace a double take. “When the heck did you get back in town!?”
“Flew in a few hours ago.”
“Flew in? You sell The Tramp Islander, or did it sink?”
“I had some urgent business here,” Trace said. “The Tramp Islander and the crew are docked at Port Vila.”
“How’s those two young pups working out for you? Have you replaced them yet?”
“Good men,” Trace said. “I’ll have a beer, tap, dark.”
Pete grabbed a glass and drew a dark beer from the tap. “On the house.”
“Thanks.”
“You here from your dad and Talei?” Pete asked.
“They spent two weeks in Hawaii. They’re at the ranch in Texas now. I called him two weeks ago. Things are fine. He wanted me to stop in and see you and say hi.”
“I’m going to call him,” Pete said.
“He’d like to hear from you.”
“Have you seen Allie yet?”
“I called her from the hotel. We’re having breakfast tomorrow. Before I see her, how’s she doing?”
“The shipping business is picking up, and she’s picking up with it. That’s what I hear. How are things in Vanuatu?”
“We’ve been very busy.” Trace sipped his beer.”They don’t have beer this good in Vanuatu.”
“You’re not here for beer, are you?” Pete leaned closer.
“I’m here to see how one of my dad’s old friends and my friend is doing,” Trace assured.
“One of the people you took to Vanuatu, I hear he’s in big trouble,” Pete whispered.
Trace sipped. “So I hear.”
“Without you asking,” Pete said, “if I hear something, I’ll pass it on.”
“Thanks,” Trace said. “What have you heard?”
“One of the guys you had aboard killed the other guy,” Pete said.
Trace twisted the glass of beer around.
“You’ve heard different?” Pete said
Trace slowly nodded his head and blinked slowly.
“So you’re mixed up in it?” Pete asked.
Trace said nothing.
“Be careful, my friend,” Pete said. “The kind of people you deal with are ruthless. They don’t care about life. Killing is a business reality, as easy as I draw a beer.”
“I sure wish they had this beer in Vanuatu,” Trace said.
Pete left to wait on two men who came in.
Trace reached behind the counter and picked up the telephone. He called for a cab.
Trace finished his beer and stood. Pete waited on a woman who walked.
“Thanks for the beer, Pete,” Trace waved.
“Hey,” Pete said, “whatever you need.”
“I may stop in again before leaving,” Pete said, stepping toward the doorway.
He waited outside for a couple of minutes before the car arrived.
Trace climbed into the cab. He sat in the back seat. “Aren’t you the driver who brought me?”
“That’s me,” the driver said.
“Take me back to the hotel.”
The driver pulled into the road.
“Aren’t you the son of Adam Troy?”
Trace grinned. “I am.”
“I know your dad good. He was here a few months ago.”
“Dad and I sailed together for a few months,” Trace said. “How do you know him?”
“We go way back. I was teenage boy when I met your dad. He take me to find my mother.”
“Are you Danny Boy?” Pete asked
“That me,” Danny Boy smiled.
“Dad told me about you. You sailed with him for a while, didn’t you?”
“Yep, we have good time. He get me out of big fight one time. He always help low dog. That what you do now, you helping someone.”
“What makes you think I am?”
“I look in mirror. See you face. Same face you dad had. You can tell when man only help self or when help other. You got look.”
“I bet you’re a whiz at poker,” Trace said. “Yeah, I’m helping someone and don’t know how I can.”
“I take you to hotel. Park across street. You need me, I there.”
“You’ll lose fares.”
“No big deal. I do this for you free. I know what you do is good for somebody. I know it secret too.”
“The look on my face?”
“Yeah, I know when man have secret.”
“You should give up the cab and get on the poker circuit.”
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