This is episode eighteen 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.
Patterson Needs Help
Trace and Sage crept down the companionway steps and through the mess and salon area. Sage pointed to the last cabin on the right. Trace slowly gripped the door handle with one hand. He held his hand in a fist for Sage to see. He held up one finger at a time. When the third one raised, he pulled down the handle and burst into the cabin.
Patterson sat on the bunk and rolled away from the door as if a blast of wind pushed him over. His face flashed with fear. He held his arms and hands up as if he expected to be struck. As soon as he recognized that the intrusion was Trace and Sage, he relaxed. Yet, fear remained on his face.
“What are you doing here?” Trace demanded.
“I’ve got no place to go,” Patterson’s lips trembled.
Trace turned to look at Sage. Sage shrugged.
“Okay,” Trace said, “you’ve got nowhere else to go but here, why here?”
“It’s a long story,” Patterson said.
“I want to hear it,” Trace said and turned to look at Sage. “Don’t you, Sage.”
“I don’t like fiction,” Sage said. “So, it better be the truth.”
“I’m in big trouble,” Patterson said.
Trace squinted, looking closely at Patterson. Dirt and smudges covered his clothing and body. “You look terrible. Are you sick?”
“I haven’t eaten much the last two weeks,” Patterson said.
“Let’s go out to the mess,” Trace said. “I’ll warm some leftover stew for you.”
“And we better get some liquids in him,” Sage said. “He looks dehydrated.”
They moved to the mess table. Trace warmed leftover stew in a pan. Sage poured two cups full of water and instructed Patterson to drink them slowly. The same instructions were given when Trace set a bowl of stew and a spoon on the table in front of Patterson
Patterson ate slowly and savored each spoonful of stew.
Patterson consumed about half the bowl before Trace asked, “Okay, why are you here?”
“I’m being hunted by the police and a drug smuggling outfit.”
“You mentioned police first, why them?” Trace asked.
“They think I murdered Erin.”
“You mean Erin?” Trace asked. “Your buddy, the guy who was on this boat?”
Before he answered, Sage blurted, “Did you?”
“No!” Patterson said as if being accused.
“What about Margot and Zoey?” Trace asked.
“They’re fine,” Patterson assured.
“Let’s dig a little deeper,” Trace said. “Why us? Why The Tramp Islander?”
“Finish up,” Sage said, nodding toward the stew that remained in the bowl.
Patterson scraped the bottom of his bowl and put the last spoonful of stew in his mouth.
Trace grabbed the spoon from his mouth and dropped it in the bowl. He pushed the bowl away. “That’s enough. No more until we get the story.”
“First of all,” Patterson began, “we didn’t sail here to experience paradise; well, kind of. Erin and I are frat brothers, and we wanted to raise startup money for a business idea we had. My parents have the money, but they said they’d invest once we had something to show for it—go raise money from people you don’t know. We wanted to go the shortcut.”
“Let me guess,” Trace said, “it involved drugs.”
“How’d you guess?” Patterson said.
“Fast money, no notes to sign, it’s not hard to figure,” Sage said. “You’re young and dumb. Probably never gave it a risk evaluation.”
“Yeah,” Patterson, “and I’m a business major. Statistically, your first couple of businesses fail.”
“True,” Trace said, “but most don’t fail with a prison sentence as part of the failure option.”
Sage added, “Or death.”
Patterson hung his head and shielded his eyes, and began to sob. Trace and Sage looked across the table at each other. Sage pointed to his cheek and motioned with his head toward Patterson. Trace looked at Patterson’s cheek and noticed a tear roll over his cheek.
Trace placed his hand on Patterson’s shoulder. “We’re sorry for the loss of your friend, but we have to know more and know it now, before going any further.”
Sage stood and grabbed a napkin from the counter between the mess and the galley. He handed it to Patterson and sat down. Patterson wiped his tears.
He sniffed and said, “I have a pilot’s license. I’ve had one since I was fifteen. Erin and I got in contact with a guy who got us in contact with a guy, and a couple of guys after that, met a guy who specialized in organizing drug trafficking. A sharp guy, a lawyer. He represents drug dealers. What’s funny is that the dealers he represents have no idea he’s in deeper than they are, and some of them actually work for him, and they don’t even know he’s their boss. They think he’s just a scumbag lawyer.”
Sage stood. He got another cup of water for Patterson and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” Patterson said. He took a swallow. “We planned to come here like some vacationing college students, which we were. I fly a Piper Malibu loaded with drugs to Australia or New Zealand.”
“That’s a long way,” Sage said.
“The Piper Malibu has better than a thousand-mile range,” Patterson said. “It can make fields in Australia or New Zealand. I’ve done it a couple of times, but most of the time I land at Norfolk Island and refuel.”
“You’ve been doing this since we left you off?” Trace asked.
“Yeah,” Patterson said. “I’m almost in the air more than on the ground.”
“What about Margot, Zoey, and Erin? Did they go with you?” Sage said.
“No,” Patterson said. “Erin came on a couple of flights, but the girls stayed on Tanna Island. They had a small cabin. They didn’t want any part of what I was doing. They knew what was going on, but that’s it. The people I worked for used the girls to make sure I returned.”
“How was Erin killed?” Trace asked.
“I put in two months,” Patterson said. “That’s all I signed up for. Margo and Zoey had enough. They wanted to go home. The bosses thought the girls would be a risk. They planned on killing them and Erin, and if I failed to continue to fly, they were going to kill me also. At least that’s what they said, but I think that was just to keep me in line until they got to me. We planned an escape one night. I got the girls to the plane. Erin diverted them. He made it look as if he was heading south on the island, but he took a moped east, where there was a small motorboat. From there, it was ten miles across the sea to a small island and an airstrip. I flew in at sunup, and no one was there.”
“About fifteen miles east of Port Vila is a road with a straight strip on it. I landed the plane there and abandoned it. I wandered around the island for a couple of days. I made my way back to Port Vila and found out Erin’s body had been found. He had been beaten to death, and a club was found nearby. Two men said they saw me beat him. The police have been looking for me. If I’m caught, I’m going away for a long time. I’m sure they’ll get me for the drugs and the murder.”
Trace and Sage looked across the table at each other.
“So,” Trace said, “you want us to get you out of Dodge?”
“That would be nice,” Patterson said.
“But you would still be wanted,” Trace said. “We could sail you anywhere, even back to the States, for instance. What will happen? Eventually, you’ll be found. Let’s say you’re not. You will be looking over your shoulder the rest of your life. You have to clear yourself.”
“There’s no way I’m turning myself in,” Patterson said. “The police are so corrupt, they’d turn me over to the drug runners.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that,” Trace said. “I know how corrupt these islands can be. I’ve had my share of dealings with them.”
“I don’t see anything but two options,” Patterson said. “Turn myself in or disappear.”
“What do you think, Sage?” Trace said.
“Well, old buddy,” Sage leaned back in his seat and laced his fingers behind his head, “we’ve done a few crazy things since we’ve been here. I don’t know where this would rank, but we should give it some thinking. One thing is for sure, as much as the fella has given us every reason to tie him up and turn him in ourselves, it wouldn’t be right. We can come up with something.”
“Sage,” Trace said, “I’ll give you a few dollars to get this guy some clothes.” And said repulsively to Patterson, “And in the meantime, take a shower.”
