Surprise
They docked The Tinytanic behind The Tramp Islander. They stepped ashore.
Kelsey nudged Trace. “I see at least two cars that don’t belong here. Two men in each car.”
“I suppose you’d like to try to find a phone real quick and call for help,” Trace said.
“Not really,” Kelsey said. “I don’t know who on this island I could trust, besides too many cops, too many bullets. I know you’re close to your crew. We don’t want needless bullets flying around.” Kelsey smiled and gestured. “Show me the way.”
They walked across the gangplank and onto the deck of The Tramp Islander.
Sage climbed up from the forward companionway. He wore a forced smile. Behind him was Franks’ son, wearing a smile of deceit.
Trace smiled and wrapped his arms around Sage. He tucked the pistol given to him by Cooper into Sage’s pants’ back waist.
“How ya, doin’ you ole sidewinder,” Trace said. “Let me introduce you to an Australian cowboy. The call ‘em drovers, ringers, or stockmen, but he’s a cowboy through and through.”
Sage reached out and shook his hands. “Hey, cowpoke, it’s been a while. Your hands have gone soft.”
Trace gestured toward Paul. “This is one of my crew, Paul.”
Paul reached, pulled up his shirt, and pulled out an automatic pistol. “Let’s all go below.”
“What’s going on?” Trace exclaimed.
“Just get below,” Paul said. “It will become abundantly clear to you when we get below.”
Trace, Sage, and Kelsey climbed down the companionway steps with Paul holding the pistol behind them. They filed into the mess and salon area. Makani, Tom, and Patterson sat on a salon bench. A man with an automatic pistol stood in the hallway next to the galley.
“Sorry, no breakfast,” Makani said.
“Can somebody explain what’s going on?” Trace asked.
Paul waved his pistol toward the salon bench. “Make yourself comfortable, and in due time it will be explained.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Tom said.
“Back home, we say the turd don’t fall far from the cow’s behind,” Sage said.
“How long has this been going on?” Trace asked Sage.
“Three days,” Sage said. “There were a couple more around here to make sure we stayed put. They left as soon as you called.”
“Where’s the third guy?” Paul demanded.
“You asking me?” Trace said.
“Where’s the third guy?” Paul pressed.
“Third guy, I don’t know what you mean,” Trace said.
“When you called, you said breakfast for three,” Paul waved his pistol.
“Don’t wave that around,” Trace said, “it might have a hair-trigger."
“You asked for three breakfasts,” Paul waved the pistol.
“Promise not to wave the pistol,” Trace said.
“Just tell me,” Paul said, not waving the pistol.
“Thank you,” Trace said. “Me and Kelsey were pretty hungry, so I ordered extra—enough for three men.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Paul said. “You would have just said make twice as much.”
“You’re overthinking it,” Trace said. “Makani already makes twice as much. So just a little more than usual. Does that clear it up in your analytical brain?”
The forward companionway’s door hinges squeaked as it opened. Footsteps creaked down the steps. Waldo Franks appeared.
“Waldo Franks, everybody,” Trace introduced.
“Thanks for the introduction,” Franks said.
“This certainly deserves explanation,” Trace said. “And I’d wager you can’t wait to tell me.”
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