This is episode thirty-three 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.
A Lonely Night
Near sunset, Cooper woke and prepared ham and cheese sandwiches and tea. The three sat in the cockpit. Trace tethered the rudder and relaxed.
They ate. Cooper and Kelsey got acquainted. Trace remained quiet and allowed Cooper’s and Kelsey’s relationship to grow.
“Do you want to run all night?” Cooper asked Trace.
“Yeah,” Trace said.
“I can take the rudder for a while,” Cooper offered. “I got to admit, though, I’m beat.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Trace said. “I’m used to long days and nights. And if it gets to me, I’ll just bring in the sails, and we can drift for a time.”
“If you show me what to do, I can help out,” Kelsey said.
“That’s okay,” Trace said. “There’s a few islands in our way for now. You have to be able to read the charts, the wind, and currents. It’s not hard stuff, but I think we’d all feel safer.”
“Aye, aye,” Kelsey agreed. “However, I would like to learn how to sail.”
“We will be at sea for almost a week,” Trace said, and assured, “You will learn how to sail.”
Kelsey grinned and added, “Or swim.”
“Nah,” Cooper said, “that would be a waste. Trace and I planned to use you as a drogue.”
“What’s a drogue?” Kelsey asked.
“If the boat goes too fast, we tie you up and cast you overboard,” Cooper said. “It slows the boat.”
“I got the feeling I’m being messed with,” Kelsey said.
“We have a drogue,” Trace said. “It’s beneath your seat.”
“You actually have to slow the boat down?” Kelsey said.
“Yeah,” Trace said. “Depending on the seas, you can lose control. Small sailboats, like this one, can flip or roll.”
“Ahh,” Cooper joked, “why didn’t you wait to tell him after we tied him up and were about to toss him over? That way, we’d have known how much he trusts us.”
“You’d have found out just how gullible I am,” Kelsey said, and added seriously. “So, almost a week at sea? Why not fly?”
“A rumor was started back in Fiji,” Trace said. “Rumors, what is it they say, ‘a rumor can go around the world before the truth can get out of bed.’ I want the rumor to be there long enough to become fact.”
“What rumor?” Kelsey asked.
“I transport drugs and have reliable sources,” Trace said.
“What will that do?” Kelsey asked.
“It will get me close to the people who are framing the guy I know,” Trace said.
“It sounds like you are depending on the gullibility of men who prey on the gullibility of others,” Kelsey said.
“Those are the best kind,” Trace said. “The best place to steal a horse is from a horse thief. They think everybody else is honest.”
“How can you be sure?” Kelsey said.
“I can’t,” Trace replied. “But I can hedge my chances. If the lie comes from two different sources, it has to be true.”
“You were able to start that in motion?” Kelsey asked.
“One very reliable source and another eager for anything,” Trace said. “I’m sure it has already reached the ears of those I want it to. After it ferments a few days, it will be an established fact. In fact, it would not surprise me by the time I meet up with those folks, they think I’m the best and transporter of drugs in the South Seas. I’d have to be for them not to have heard of me before.”
“This is kind of scary,” Kelsey said. “That’s the way cops think.”
They finished eating. Cooper collected the metal plates they ate from. He rinsed them off by holding them overboard and then went below to wash them. He emerged from the companionway with three bottles of beer. He handed a beer to Trace, and one to Kelsey.
They each took a swig.
“I brought a case,” Cooper said. “That comes to one a day for eight days.”
“Keep us honest, Kelsey,” Trace chided.
“An honest cop,” Cooper chortled.
“Not when it comes to beer,” Kelsey smiled and took another swig.
They nursed the beers and talked until the sun set.
Cooper collected the empty bottles and said, “Tell ya what, Trace, I’m going to catch a few more winks and relieve you. How does that sound?”
Trace gave Cooper a thumbs up, and Cooper returned below.
“How did you come across him?” Kelsey asked. “Seems like a real good mate.”
“Two years ago, I came to Suva on a long vacation,” Trace said. “I planned for a month. I didn’t want to pay for a hotel for that long, and I didn’t want to sleep on a beach. Cooper rented out a room. We became friends. He lent me The Tineytanic for a while. I sailed it around Fiji—had a great time—kinda. He trusts me and I trust him.”
“Trust means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Kelsey said.
“One man can’t take care of a thousand head of cattle,” Trace said. “You know that. So you have to put your trust in other men. When you’re sleeping, they better be watchin’, cowboy logic.”
“Bush sense, we call it,” Kelsey said.
“Horse sense in Texas,” Trace said. “We don’t fool ourselves, sometimes it’s the horse that makes the cowboy.”
“You know,” Kelsey said, “sailing is a beautiful thing. I like it. I could do it. So calm and peaceful. It’s as peaceful as watching a dancing campfire.” He gazed at the stars overhead. “I’ve seen every one of those stars a hundred times over. It’s been long ago. I’ve changed, but the stars haven’t.”
“I wish I had written down the conversations I’ve had with them,” Trace said.
“And I wished I’d written what they’ve said back to me,” Kelsey said.
“Why did you ever become a cop?” Trace asked.
“I guess I wanted to fulfill my boyhood dreams,” Kelsey said. “I signed on and took classes to make advancement. I always wanted to put away the bad guys. We all look for purpose in our lives. I guess this is what I came up with.”
“For some reason, you don’t sound all that satisfied,” Trace said.
“Most days I don’t,” Kelsey said and added, “some days I do.”
“What about you?” Kelsey said.
“When I first took over The Tramp Islander,” Trace began, “there was no real plan, just deliver freight at a good price to places a lot of boats won’t go. I spend very little on fuel. The boat is paid for. I suppose satisfaction comes from delivering things to people without costing an arm and a leg. But in between time, other things come up.”
“Like the Patterson guy?” Kelsey asked.
“Yeah.”
“It’s almost like you’ve hung out a shingle,” Kelsey said and held up his hands like he was framing a sign. “‘Here I Am. Will Help Anyone.’”
“Is it really that bad?” Trace asked.
“Things seem to come your way,” Kelsey said.
Trace countered, “Trouble seems to come my way.”
They stared at the stars for a while. They talked about whatever crossed their minds, anything to keep away the loneliness.
“I remember days like this in the bush,” Kelsey said. “I’m glad you’re here. Only a good ringer could be a good mate at times like these. I’ve been with townies when on the watch. They drive you crazy. They know nothing about being alone. They think talking about football or their many pub crawls looking for Sheilas is conversation.”
“You listen to an ole cowboy talk about life, it’s like sitting at the feet of Socrates,” Trace said. “It drips from their mouths like a spoonful of honey.”
A glowing meteor streaked across the sky.
“Millions of people missed that,” Trace said. “But we saw it.”
“My dad used to tell me, you can’t crash out until you see a shooting star,” Kelsey said.
“Goo’ night, mate,” Trace said.
“Same to ya.”
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