Run into Trouble

by Alan Cook

  Drake nodded to Sterling. “All right, you can start packing.”

  Sterling jumped off the bed and started fumbling with his pants and shirt. Melody joined Drake by the door, holding the piece of typewriter paper and the gun.

  Drake put a hand on her shoulder and whispered, “Your reflexes are as good as ever. I’m glad you remembered our signal.”

  “As you said, it was reflex. The notes C, F, G, A, meaning ‘He’s got a gun.’”

  “We never contemplated using it when such quick action was required.”

  “No. Your reflexes aren’t so bad either.”

  Sterling scowled at them from the other side of the room where he was throwing clothes into his suitcase. “Are you going to give me back my gun? I may need it.”

  Drake chuckled. “I think we’ll keep it as a souvenir of our night on the town in Solvang.” He turned to Melody and whispered, “We need to get back to our motel. I think this is one late-night phone call Blade will enjoy.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Today’s run goes from the top of the hill on Route 1 near Gaviota to the top of the next hill, which is past Lompoc. That hill is almost comparable to the hill you climbed yesterday, so be prepared. The whole distance is on Route 1. Since it is a Monday, traffic should be lighter than it was yesterday, but be careful, especially on the narrow road until you get to Lompoc. After Lompoc, the road widens to four lanes with wide shoulders. The combination of the heat and the hill climb yesterday scrambled the rankings. We expect to see more changes after today’s run. Remember to carry plenty of liquids and energy food with you. Watch for the watering places.

  ***

  “If there’s anything worse than a steep uphill for a runner, it’s a steep downhill.”

  Drake made this pronouncement as he and Melody made the long descent from their hilltop starting point. They had been wearing two-ply socks all along, but each of them wore an extra pair of socks today, expecting the downhill to be hard on their feet.

  Melody looked at the last of the other runners disappearing around a curve in front of them. “Well, we’re bringing up the rear this morning. It’s just like old times.”

  “Not quite. We’ve moved into seventh place overall. We’ve finished first two days in a row. We must be doing something right. Six more days like this and we’ll be in first place.”

  Melody laughed. “The Tom and Jerry and Phil and Brian teams are so far ahead of us that it’s going to take more than a few good days to catch them, I’m afraid. However, I’m glad to see you so optimistic. I suspect we won’t be finishing last today. Too much youthful exuberance can hurt the other lads. If their feet don’t get them on the downhill, their knees will get such a pounding that bad things will happen.”

  “Don’t forget the climb at the end of the run. We’ve proven to be the best climbing team. I don’t know whether to thank Fred for putting the steep climbs at the end of the runs or not.”

  “There isn’t any good time to do killer climbs like those. Although I’m sure Fred would help us if he knew how. He’s got a stake in the outcome.”

  “Had a stake. Blade assured me that the noose was tightening on the Las Vegas bunch. They’ve been under surveillance for some time. The Sterling incident just means that things will move faster.”

  “Fast enough so that none of the runners get hurt, I hope. Do you think we should talk to Casey and have him cancel the race?”

  Drake took a fast swig of Gatorade.

  “Blade will let me know if there’s still a risk. I think we should talk to Casey and fill him in, but in person, not on the phone. He’s traveling around the state, campaigning. We’re bound to run into him. When he finds out what happened, he’ll probably can Fred.”

  “Good riddance.”

  “I need to have a little chat with Fred. I’m waiting until tonight because I promised Sterling he’d have a head start. Although, why I’m keeping my word I don’t know. I also don’t know whether Fred has any contacts in Vegas, himself, or whether it was all done through Sterling. He may be wondering where Sterling is right this minute.”

  “I’m wondering where Sterling is right this minute. Do you think he’s on a plane to Brazil?”

  “The girl from Ipanema must be looking pretty good right now.”

  “Did Blade tell you whether there’s any new intelligence on the Malibu incident?”

  “Nothing new, unfortunately. Casey is still agitating for doing something. He made another speech in front of a business group somewhere. Mentioned the land grab idea. At least he hasn’t suggested attacking the USSR yet.”

  ***

  The first team they caught was that of Glen and Winthrop. Drake and Melody had an easy time catching them because the two were walking. Winthrop was walking very stiff-legged. As they approached them, Drake slowed down. “What’s the matter?”

  Winthrop grimaced. “My knees have locked up.”

  Melody nodded. “You took the downhill too fast. You’ll have to walk it off.”

  “It’ll take us all day to finish.”

  “Do you have anything better to do?”

  There was nothing Drake and Melody could do for them, so they sped up. Drake was making mental calculations.

  “Those two are right in front of us in the standings. I suspect that by the end of the day we’ll have moved up another position.”

  “I’m going to eat some gorp—what Fred calls energy food. We’re going to need all the energy we can find for the uphill.”

  ***

  The heat and the uphill climb were taking their toll again. Although Drake and Melody weren’t running fast by any marathon standard, they had passed all the teams except Tom and Jerry and Phil and Brian during the ascent. They were gaining on those two teams, which were in sight. They figured to at least catch them by the end of the day’s run. They shouldn’t lose any time to them overall.

  “This may turn out to be a three-team race,” Drake said.

  Melody nodded. “Don’t count us out. Maybe we should have bet on ourselves.”

  ***

  Fred’s only sign of nervousness was that he was smoking a cigarette. Drake knew that he smoked, but he usually did it in private because none of the runners smoked. Of course. And yet, Drake had once met a man in England who said he was a mountain runner, meaning that he ran up mountains such as Scotland’s Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Great Britain at 4,400 feet. Drake was impressed, and then dumbfounded when he found out that the man smoked.

  They were in Fred’s room at the motel in Lompoc. Drake mentioned that he had talked to Sterling—he kept Melody out of it—and that Sterling had admitted his part in the betting. Fred took a drag on his cigarette.

  “I hired Sterling to make sure that the runners followed the rules—and also to check up on them during the runs to see if anybody was in trouble. I didn’t expect him to bet on the outcome.”

  Drake produced copies of the two letters from a folder.

  “Sterling admitted he wrote the first letter, but he says it was at your insistence. We’ve proved that the second letter was written on his portable typewriter. He said you got it delivered it to the motel where we were staying.”

  Fred reached out his hand and took the two letters. He studied them for a long time.

  “I love the broken English. I suppose he wanted you to believe that the writer was Russian or something. How did you say you found Sterling?”

  “His fingerprints were on the first letter. They were in the FBI database. He’s a known felon, and he’s used the U.S. mail for extortion, among other sins.”

  “I wouldn’t have hired him if I’d known that. So you tracked him to a motel in Solvang. Clever of you.”

  Drake didn’t mention Peaches or Grace. Let Fred think he’d done it all himself. He waited for Fred to say something more. Fred reread the letters, as if trying to memorize them.

  “You had Sterling cornered. Of course he’s going to try to spread the blame. I can assure you that I and my sta
ff didn’t have anything to do with these letters.”

  Drake could prove otherwise, but he wasn’t going to play his trump cards at the moment. “Anyway, Sterling’s gone. Actually, fleeing for his life would be more apt. You never know what those Vegas folks are going to do.”

  Was that a shudder from Fred or just a noisy exhale of cigarette smoke? Whatever it was, Fred quickly gained control of himself.

  “Drake, I want to thank you very much for bringing this to my attention. I guess I don’t have to take any action on Sterling because he’s gone. We don’t really need him anymore. The rules have changed, and it’s going to be easy to keep track of the runners on Route One, which we will be following for many miles. I apologize for the problems this has caused you. I trust that you won’t be harassed again during the rest of the race.”

  “There’s one thing more you should know. I asked Sterling why they bet on Melody and me since we were such long shots. He said all we had to do to win was to finish. The mob would take care of the rest. As I said before, they can get pretty nasty. Our good guys should have them neutralized soon, but I just wanted you to know what could have happened.”

  Fred’s hand shook as he put the cigarette to his lips.

  CHAPTER 21

  After two very tough days of running, today will be a little easier. The run goes from the top of the hill past Lompoc to the top of the first (much shorter) hill after you cross the Santa Maria River, which is close to the border between Santa Barbara County and San Luis Obispo County. Be very careful on the steep downhill at the beginning of the run. It is steeper than the downhill during yesterday’s run. Don’t go so fast that you injure your knees. Again, since we will be inland all day, the weather will be warm. We will provide water along the way, but carry plenty of liquids.

  ***

  “It looks like everybody’s learned their lesson.”

  Drake was referring to the fact that all nine teams were taking the downhill in one loose pack. Nobody was charging ahead. Several people had suffered knee problems from yesterday’s run. Winthrop’s were the worst; he and Glen trailed the other runners at the moment. Drake and Melody had passed them, overall, and moved into sixth place. They had also gained on everybody else except the two leading teams.

  Melody changed the subject. “We’ve gotten rid of Sterling and, hopefully, the threat from Las Vegas. Fred hasn’t admitted anything, but from what you’ve said, you scared him. He must think you’re some kind of Superman to have dug up all that information while you were running.”

  “I don’t think that Fred will be playing any more games with the boys from Vegas. They’re out of his league as far as evil is concerned.”

  “So the question is whether we should be talking to Casey about all this.”

  “I’ve been giving that some thought. What would be our objective? To get rid of Fred? At least he’s not bothering you and Grace. We would have a tough time proving anything without Sterling’s and Grace’s involvement. If we botched it, Grace could be without a job. If Fred is on the straight and narrow, maybe we shouldn’t rock the boat.”

  “Maybe we could communicate better if you didn’t use all those American clichés.”

  “Wasn’t it your own Shaw who said we’re separated by a common language? You can be my fair lady, and I’ll teach you proper English.”

  “It’ll be a bloody day in ‘ell before you do that.”

  ***

  Drake wasn’t expecting a knock on the door. He had gone through his evening ritual of bathing and stretching. He was tired after three hard days of running. He was happy with his performance, but he also had to get his rest to keep it up. He was dressed only in his briefs and was about to retire to his bed with one of Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels. Spying through rose-colored glasses where the good guys were always good and the bad guys were always bad. He didn’t want to get dressed if he didn’t have to.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Grace.”

  What the devil did she want?

  “Just a minute.”

  He grabbed the first item of clothing he saw, a pair of running shorts, and pulled them on. Two weeks ago he wouldn’t have been able to do that without feeling excruciating pain. He went to the door and opened it. Grace stood there looking beautiful in her standard costume of shorts and a Running California sleeveless shirt.

  As he looked at her she was looking at him—at his bare chest. For a moment he felt what he supposed women felt when men stared at their breasts. The tableau couldn’t have gone on for more than a couple of seconds, but it seemed longer. Then Drake remembered his manners and opened the door enough for Grace to come in.

  She seemed to emerge from a brief trance when she entered the room. She didn’t speak, and Drake felt it was his duty to break an awkward silence. “Where’s Melody?”

  “Oh, she went out for a drink with Tom and Jerry.”

  “And you didn’t go because you don’t cotton to runners.”

  “Something like that. Although they invited me. Can we sit down?”

  The only chair had Drake’s suitcase on it. He took a step toward it when she spoke.

  “That’s okay. We can sit on the bed.”

  It wasn’t okay. She sat down beside him on the bed, so close that their bare arms and legs touched, generating something akin to static electricity. Drake was distinctly uncomfortable. He also felt something else he hadn’t felt much of since the race had started. He tried to sound jovial. “So what can I do for you?”

  “Nothing. Just sit with me and keep me company.”

  She glanced at his chest again. “Your bruise is all gone.”

  She reached out her far hand and touched him just below the breast bone. His muscles retracted a little in a reflex from being touched in a sensitive place. She hesitated. He couldn’t make her think he didn’t like her. “Sorry. Reflex. Like when the doctor hits you below the kneecap.”

  She gained courage and touched him again. Her fingers moved around his chest. Softly. Sensuously. “You don’t have much chest hair.”

  “I shave.”

  A feeble attempt at a joke. What should he do? He didn’t want her to stop. He didn’t want her to continue. He did nothing.

  She broke the silence. “I have the advantage over you.”

  Before Drake could guess what she meant, she reached down and pulled her shirt over her head in one fluid motion. As she tossed it on the chair, Drake was struck with the inane thought that here was proof she didn’t wear a bra.

  She smiled. “There. We’re even.”

  She went back to playing with his chest. He sat frozen.

  She spoke again. “Do I have to do everything? You can do to me what I’m doing to you. It would be nice to have somebody I like touching me for a change. Or you can just look. Your choice.”

  He did some of each. Her skin was silky. Her nipples reacted to his touch. He tried to come to his senses. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  It sounded like one of the clichés Melody accused him of spouting. Grace apparently thought so too. “Yes, we should. Why not? Because of Melody? She’s out with somebody else. You’re not sleeping with her. Why shouldn’t we enjoy each other? I know you like me.”

  To prove her point, she slid her hand down his front, finding out for herself. He was scared for the first time since he had been young. “I don’t know if I can perform after all this running.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll do what we can. Maybe I can help.”

  She could. Drake couldn’t believe how strong he suddenly felt.

  CHAPTER 22

  Drake was startled into wakefulness by the loud knocking on his door. His first thought, mixed up with his recurring erotic dream, was that Grace had returned. What time was it? It was dark outside. Drake clicked on the light beside the bed and looked at his watch. Almost 5:30. Morning.

  He still couldn’t shake the idea that it must be Grace. Was she upset about last night? He was naked; he needed to p
ut something on. He grabbed his briefs from the floor and pulled them up. They would have to do. He opened the door, fully expecting to see Grace. Instead he saw Melody.

  From the look on her face she must be steaming mad at him. How did she find out? She came into the room and closed the door behind her. She was shaking and breathing hard.

  “Grace is dead.”

  Drake couldn’t grasp what she said. “What?”

  “Grace is dead.”

  Drake’s legs wouldn’t support him. He sat down hard on the bed. Grace was dead and he had caused it, although he wasn’t sure how. He didn’t want to know. He wanted to rewind the clock. But he had to know. “What…what happened?”

  “Drake, she was murdered.”

  “When?”

  “A few minutes ago.”

  Melody sat down on the bed beside him in the same spot Grace had occupied last night. She was still breathing hard, which was unlike her. She never seemed to breathe hard, even while running. Drake finally understood what was happening. Grace was dead but not because of him. Melody was upset about Grace, not with him. Grace had been murdered. Grace with the silky skin. But how? Why?

  “What happened?”

  “Her alarm went off at quarter to five. It woke me. As you know, it happened before, so I was suspicious. She started getting dressed. I asked her where she was going. She said she was meeting somebody in the parking lot, but she wouldn’t tell me who. She said it was okay; it wasn’t anything bad, and she’d be back in a little while. I couldn’t go back to sleep.

  “She didn’t come back. Finally, at five fifteen I couldn’t stand it any longer. I got up, threw on some clothes, and went out the side door. At first I couldn’t see much. The motel has several outside lights, and my eyes quickly adjusted to the dark. I walked around the parking lot. Nobody was there.

  “Then I saw a shadow between two cars back in a corner away from the building. It was more than a shadow. It was Grace. She was on her back. I could see her face, lit by a spotlight like some sort of holy vision. I saw the hole in her forehead. I’m sure she was shot. I checked her neck for a pulse. There wasn’t any. I ran around to the front of the motel and went in the main entrance. I yelled at the desk clerk to call the police. Then I came here.”