Read Ocean: The Sea Warriors for Free Online

him and Alicia jobs at the ranch.
    Now as he hurried along the driveway from the helicopter landing pad to the main hotel building, he wore blue jeans and a long-sleeve white shirt, with no gold jewelry. He had a lot on his mind, going over and over what he would say to the cops. They were in his grandfather’s office awaiting him now; he’d received a call from the old man only minutes ago. For days, since learning of the first two deaths from tainted drugs, Jeff had been getting ready for this, in case he was ever questioned. It had been like preparing for an examination.
    Except this was not school, and the consequences for failure were much bigger than blowing a test and getting a bad grade. If he failed this he would at least go to prison, and it could be worse than that. Depending upon the ultimate jurisdiction and charges, and the fact that people had died from the product, he could receive the death penalty.
    Two police officers looked up from a couch as he entered his grandfather’s office. One of the officers, long-boned and leathery-faced, spoke first. “You’re Jeff Ellsworth?” he asked.
    Nervously, Jeff nodded. He slipped into one of the plush, cushioned chairs fronting the desk where Preston Ellsworth III sat. The old man had a scowl on his face.
    “We got a tip that drugs are being transported by helicopter on Loa’kai,” the officer said. “Do you know anything about that?”
    Jeff shook his head, decided to push back to cover his fear. “Just because I’m a ‘copter pilot, you think I know who the bad guys are? The only thing I know about ‘copters and pilots around here involves the flights we run for tourists.”
    “You’ve never been asked to transport illegal cargoes?” the other officer asked, a small, dark-skinned man.
    Jeff shook his head. “Passengers only. Tourists on sightseeing and snorkeling trips.”
    “You’ve never seen any suspicious activity that could be drug dealing? Think hard. We have nine dead so far from bad dope, and more in hospitals.”
    “No suspicious activity of any kind.”
    “Nothing at all?”
    “Nothing around here—not like I used to see in California when I lived there, before I went in the Army and flew combat missions. I don’t think there’s any drug dealing on the Wanaao side—at least, none that I’ve heard about.”
    “What about the beaches?” the taller officer asked. “You’ve never noticed anything funny going on there?”
    Feigning outrage, Jeff said, “You keep asking the same question over and over, in different ways. My answer is no to everything. I don’t know anything about drugs, period.”
    The two cops exchanged glances, and rose to their feet. One of them handed a business card to Jeff and said, “You’ve seen enough movies, so you know what this is for.”
    Jeff smiled stiffly, tucked the card into a pocket of his jeans.
    When the police were gone, his grandfather scowled at him and said, “You’d better not be involved. The feds could confiscate this entire ranch if you’re dirty.”
    “I haven’t done anything wrong, Grandfather.”
    “I’d better not find out otherwise.”
    When Jeff was finally outside the office, he was disturbed that the old man seemed to suspect something, and was afraid the cops would return with drug-sniffing dogs.
    When he saw the police drive away, Jeff went to the helipad and washed out the front passenger seat area of the newer helicopter that he’d been using for his deliveries. He always kept it clean anyway, but he was going to a deeper level now. Then he washed and disinfected the rest of the cabin, and the inside of the other ‘copter, too—so that one aircraft did not look suspiciously much cleaner than the other.
    In his room afterward, Jeff had an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wished he’d never gotten into dealing drugs, but told himself that the three deaths on Loa’kai were not his fault, nor any of the others in the islands. He hadn’t known the