The Big Gamble in Paradise; Episode 2

This is the second episode of the novel I'm currently
writing. The title is The Big Gamble in Paradise. I'm about halfway through my first rewrite, and I think it will be completed in six or eight weeks. 

I hope you enjoy this episode, and more will follow.

Episode 2

He looked at the lounge in the mirror. Half of the eyes rested on him. ‘How many drinks does it take for the staring to go unnoticed,’ he thought and gave a simple grin. ‘What do I do next? What do people do who win large sums of money at a casino. I hardly know how to play blackjack. I’ll cash in the chips and run like hell to the hotel.’ He smiled to himself.

At the time his seltzer and lemon arrived, a man sat next to Trace. He wore a wrinkled white tropical suit. His hair was dark blond and unruly. Trace glanced at him and nodded. He looked as if about ten years older than Trace. He may have last shaved five days ago.

“My name is Parker Ellis.” He offered his hand.

Trace grasped his hand. “Trace Troy.”

“You’re the big winner, right,” Parker said, “and I don’t want you to buy me a drink.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Trace said. “I have too many other things to think about.”

The bartender returned and asked Parker, “Can I get you something, sir?”

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Parker said.

“Seltzer and a slice of lemon, on its way, sir,” the bartender said.

“You must be respected,” Trace said.

“What makes you say that?” Parker said.

“I didn’t even get a 'sir’ out of him.”

Parker grinned. “Take it off his tip.”

“Didn’t even think about a tip,” Trace said.

“I know,” Parker said, “your mind is full of too many other things.”

“So what’s your story,” Parker said, “tourist, you work here, visiting friends, you wash up on shore, a fugitive from justice?”

“None of the above,” Trace said. “I’m here for R and R, and I don’t like the term tourist.”

“Sounds like you’re from Texas,” Parker said.

“Southwest,” Trace said. “East coast?”

“Queens,” Parker said.

“So what are you resting and relaxing from, brandin’ the herd,” Parker feigned a Texas accent.

“Where I come from, that accent will get ya beat and hog tied.”

“And where I come from, that accent will get you laughed at.”

Trace grinned. “So, when do I come to visit you?”

The bartender set the seltzer and lemon in front of Parker.

“You’re not much of a drinker?” Parker sipped.

“I drink plenty,” Trace sipped. “I just choose wisely. What about you?”

“I’ve been known to tie a few on,” Parker said, “very few. I’m not real keen on the morning after and the photos that get passed around a week later.”

“I just won big, as you know, and apparently everyone else knows too,” Trace said, tossing his head to the occupied tables behind him. “Alcohol clouds your thinking. I want to be rational.”

“Advice?” Parker said.

“Plastics, right?” Trace said.

“That comes later,” Parker said.

“Okay, I’m all ears,” Trace said.

“Where are you staying?” Parker said.

“The hotel around the corner,” Trace said.

“Perfect,” Parker said. “Cash in your chips and take the cash to the motel and have them put it in the hotel’s safe. Make sure you get a receipt. In the morning, take the cash to a bank. Take out what you think you will need and wire the rest to the first national bank of Tumbleweed, Texas, or you can just send it to my account. I’d highly recommend the latter.”

“So,” Trace smiled, “what is a sweet innocent kid from Queens doing in a casino lounge half way around the world?”

“Sweet and innocent!” Parker said.

“I could look beyond those eyes to deep inside you and tell what kind of person you are,” Trace joked.

“I’m a free lance journalist,” Parker said. “I had a wild idea about covering the coup—the coup that sort of fizzled. It had great promise. But somewhere in Suva, some guys got together and managed to find a way they could all line their pockets without distraction and bloodshed. It’s good for humanity, but for guys like me, a dog crossing the street is not news. The dog caused a six car pile up, backing up traffic for ten miles; now that’s a story.”

“How long have you been doing it?” Trace said.

“Let’s see, I got fired from the Tribune five years ago—five years,” Parker sipped.

“How do you like freelancing?” Trace said.

"Well, considering the Tribune was the third paper that fired me, it’s been steady employment,” Parker said. “I just see stuff and report it. I don’t report to anyone, There’s no insubordination issues; I have no boss. I don’t have to worry about a messy desk; I have no desk. I don’t have to slant what I write; I have no agenda—except to report what I see and hear.”

“It sounds like you have a carefree life,” Trace sipped.

“I suppose I do,” Parker said, “if you consider living out of a suitcase, staying in fleabag hotels, and sleeping in airport terminals. Plus, I had to give up a white shirt, two pairs of underwear, and a change of socks to have room enough for a typewriter.”

“So you must have something to spend and lose,” Trace said. “Why else would you be here?”

Parker paused. “I like the nightlife.”

“Remember, I said something about looking beyond your eyes?” Trace said. “I think you’re here for something, maybe a story. Maybe you want to catch somebody where they shouldn’t be or with somebody they shouldn’t be with.”

Parker sipped.

“I hope that nerve isn’t sensitive to cold,” Trace said.

"I'm working on some things,” Parker said. That’s why I’m here. And when I see a guy as lucky as you, it grabs my attention. How does that happen?”

“Are you sure that’s it?” Trace sipped.

“I’ve been watching Cooper’s house,” Parker said. “Why are government agents visiting a sweet and innocent man?”

“Because of me,” Trace said.

“Whoa,” Parker said, “I didn’t expect that one. That’s an admission of something.”

“You can write and have printed anything you wish,” Trace said, “but it will have to come from somebody other than me. I won’t answer any questions about anything concerning the last few weeks. I hate to disappoint you. I thought we were getting along, but it seems as if I am only a story to you.”

“Believe me when I say this,” Parker said. “It was a coincidence that you and I showed up at this place at the same time. The thing with you and Cooper and the coup is all resolved in my mind. It’s a non story. If you are involved, I suspect you were coerced. A lot of people were coerced; you were only one of them. I don’t do stories that harm innocent people, I just don’t. My father was destroyed by the press. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I know what my family went through, and I’ll never do anything like that.”

“A journalist with scruples,” Trace said sarcastically.

“Your sarcasm doesn’t bother me,” Parker said. “I’m here on something having nothing to do with you—at least I hope. And if it does, I may be your best friend. So to start from the beginning, I here on something not related to you. But you started winning. Why you? Do you know?”

“It’s how I caught my keys,” Trace said.

“What?”

“When I checked in at the motel, I walked away from the desk. The clerk called out that I forgot to take my keys. I held up my hand for him to toss them. It was a bad throw, and I had to catch them behind my back. We agreed that was a lucky catch, and he told me to get to the casino before my luck ran out. And today, I’m twenty-five. That’s where I place my bet.”

Parker chuckled and began to laugh out loud.