Shipwrecked-Chapter 9

Ethan was on his third beer by the time Paul finished telling him of Perry, Della and the missing boat.

"So, Ethan, are you willing to bend the rules a little and help me find my friends?" Paul asked, his wide blue eyes pleading as much as his voice.

The Texan drained the last of the beer, then slowly turned the bottle in his hands. There wasn't much good in telling his friend the idea of a personal search was crazy. Paul was the kind of guy that knew the odds.

"Paul, you an' me been friends since our days in the service. I always tol' ya I'd be there iffin' ya ever needed me. But, dude, this sounds like some pretty bad stuff."

Paul nodded. "I know. Tragg doesn't have any idea yet about the dirt I dug up on Danvers."

Ethan considered that for a moment. "So, hijackin', pirates, stolen goods. Drugs? But if your friends are still alive, I promise ya we'll find 'em."

Paul looked at his friend with grateful eyes. "Thanks, Pal."

Ethan clasped Paul's arm. "Paul, y'all have to get your acts together. Coordinated. I can handle ya, but ya gotta let 'em know what ya got planned. I don't like runnin' 'round like a headless chicken. So . . . what's first?"

Paul stood, gazing out at the heat rising from the tarmac. "First, I make those calls while you work out a flight plan to get us across the border." His eyes slanted back to his friend. "Hopefully one that will keep us from being shot down."

The big Texan roared with laughter. "Y'all leave that to me."

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Hamilton Burger sat in Tragg's office, listening patiently while the lieutenant brought him up to date on the Coast Guard's search.

"They've covered every inch of coastline from Marina Del Rey to the southern border, both by sea and air. Nothing. My calls to local authorities turned up the fact they stopped at Coronado for dinner. After that…nothing."

Burger lit a cigarette, expelling a stream of smoke. "I'm waiting for a call back from a contact in Mexico. Julio Remarto owes Perry a favor for helping solve his son's murder in that submarine case he handled."

"Hopefully that will come to something. Well—" The ringing phone interrupted them. Tragg answered quickly, "Tragg."

"Lieutenant, this is Paul Drake. I have something I think you're going to want to hear."

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When Paul hung up from talking to Tragg, he headed for the Operations Office, hoping Ethan was about ready to take off.

He found his friend pouring over a weather report.

"Ethan?"

"Well we went and got ourselves a little problem. There's a large line of storms moving in from the west. Might be we can do a little searchin' before they hit. But we gotta have a place to set down and shelter if it catches up to us."

Paul studied the chart Ethan had laid out. "I have a friend in Puerto Vallarta who has a private airstrip. Let me call her and make arrangements."

Ethan laughed and slapped Paul on the shoulder. "I mighta known y'all would have some female connection we could call on. Y'all haven't changed a lick."

Paul just smiled and picked up the phone.

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Tragg and Burger still sat in Tragg's office mulling over what Paul had told them.

Finally Hamilton broke the silence. "So this great friend of Mason's is a smuggler, involved with some modern day pirates and took Perry and Della along in case the Mexican police caught on. Who would question a businessman entertaining a prominent lawyer and his secretary. That's just great!"

"I'm sure if Perry had known…". Tragg shook his head.

"Yeah, well, that still leaves us without a clue where they are. And he's got Della. I swear if any harm comes…"

Tragg grabbed the ringing phone. "Tragg! Yes, just a minute." He passed the receiver to Burger. "Remarto."

Burger took the receiver. "Mr. Remarto, my name is Hamilton Burger. I'm the district attorney in Los Angeles. I have a problem involving Perry Mason. I'm hoping you can help."

The man on the other end of the line leaned back in his chair. "Of course, Mr. Burger. What can I do for Mr. Mason?"

Burger let out a sigh before he explained the problem.

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Paul sat in the co-pilot seat of the helicopter, scanning the ocean below through binoculars. He and Ethan had decided on a grid flight pattern, traveling west for a determined distance, then back east. In this way they could see not only any land where the boat might be, but also open water in the event they saw any debris.

Ethan sincerely hoped for his friend's sake it was the former not the latter. "Comin up at the end of the first run. Turnin 'back east."

Paul dropped the binoculars, letting out an exasperated sigh. "This is worse than searching for a needle in a haystack." Seeing Ethan's questioning look, he smiled. "But Perry would do the very same if positions were reversed."

Ethan nodded. "And I'm thinkin the lady has something to do with this too."

Paul grimaced. "Yes. And if anything happens to her, I will have Perry's hide." Then he raised the glasses to resume his search.