This is episode twenty-five 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.
Scramble Eggs
The next morning, Cooper prepared breakfast. They sat at the dining room table, eating the meal of scrambled eggs, bangers, toast, and sipping coffee.
“Do you still own The Tinytanic?” Trace asked.
“It appears to be my white elephant,” Cooper said.
“Asking too much?” Trace asked.
“I’ve lowered the price to the point that it’s almost like giving it away,” Cooper said. “Folks who come here to buy want yachts. A buyer will come along someday. There’s a funny thing: I take her out for a while, and when I’m out there on the water, I’m glad she’s still mine. Do you know what I mean?”
Trace smiled and bobbed his head. “I do. It makes you feel like it’s not meant to be.”
“She’s still useful to me,” Cooper said. “She brings me comfort and solace.”
“What if I were to buy her?” Trace said.
Cooper swallowed hard and leaned slightly forward as if examining Trace’s sanity. “You want to buy her?”
“I guarantee I would pay you more than what you’re asking,” Trace said.
“You don’t know what I’m asking.”
“I trust you.”
Cooper pressed his lips.
Trace smiled. “You’re the first sentimental Englishman I’ve ever met. You don’t want to sell her, do you?”
“Well, it’s not so much that as it is finding the right buyer who will look after her properly. And why exactly do you want to buy her?”
“Why would you care?” Trace offered a crooked smile.
“Well, I would want her to be treated good,” Cooper stiffened in his chair.
“Cooper!” Trace said, “It’s a boat, not a pet.”
“What have you got in mind for her?” Cooper asked.
“The people who are following me think I’ll be lying out of here,” Trace said. “I think I’ll sail out of here. It will take a little longer to get back to Port Vila, but I think I’m going to need the time.”
“You will buy The Tinytanic for one trip to Port Vila?” Cooper asked.
“I’ll tell ya what,” Trace said. “I’ll sail it over and have it sailed back.”
“And what,” Cooper said, “let it rot in the harbor?”
“I’ll sell it back to you for half of what I paid,” Trace said. “And you can continue the charade of trying to sell her.”
“Why not both of us sail to Port Vila, and I sail back. There’s no exchange of money; speaking of charades.”
“Are you sure you want to be a part of this?” Trace asked.
“A part of what, sailing to Port Vila and back? People do it all the time,” Cooper said. “When do we leave? Oh, wait, there’s a plan, right?”
“Are you sure?” Trace cocked his head.
“What! I’m a boring Englishman,” Cooper proclaimed. “I need something to liven up my life.”
Trace grabbed the coffee pot and filled their cups.
“I’m going to lay low tomorrow,” Trace said. “I’d like for you to stock The Tinytanic for a trip to Port Vila.”
“I tag along, right?” Cooper asked. “That way, I can sail her back myself. I just want to get this straight. I don’t want you coming back here in a day or so, saying, I got things mixed up. People think because you’re old, all that’s left upstairs is scrambled eggs.”
“I’d hate to see you mixed up in all of this,” Trace said.
“Mixed up in what? Sail with an old friend to Port Vila and sail back. That’s all it is, right? I old. I forgot the other stuff.”
“That’s all it is,” Trace assured.
“What’s the plan beyond tomorrow?” Cooper asked.
“The day after tomorrow, I will visit an acquaintance who is in prison. Early, the day after tomorrow, I want you to sail to Nadi. Have you ever sailed there before?”
“Yes,” Cooper said, “a few times.”
“Are you familiar with the bay?”
“I don’t know it like the back of my hand, but I know it.”
“That’s fine,” Trace said. “Do you know Naisoso Island?”
“Yes,” Cooper said.
“Find an empty slip on the island,” Trace said. “I’ll be there in three days from today.”
“How are you going to get there?”
“I’ll take a bus to the airport,” Trace said. “I’ll buy a ticket to Port Vila, but I won’t be on the plane. The airport is a stone’s throw from Naisoso Island. Wait for me there. I’ll find you.”
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