Run into Trouble

by Alan Cook

  “Maybe the fact that he’s taking good care of us makes it easier to picture him as a conspirator. If he wants us to win, he should be catering to our every whim. He asked me if I needed a chiropractor, a massage, or anything else. He’s been very solicitous.”

  “He wants to get into your pants.”

  “If so, he’s not acting on it. Ever since the pageant he’s been the soul of politeness and respect.”

  “I’ve tried to think how we could confront him with the letters without all hell breaking loose and Grace getting fired.”

  “It could also endanger my mum. We can’t prove anything. I have a feeling that Grace would not be a reliable witness. She’d cave under threats. Whoever’s behind it, it’s more than just Fred.”

  Drake grabbed a handful of gorp from his pouch and shoved it into his mouth. He pondered while he chewed and swallowed. “Do you think Grace will talk to Fred about our conversation?”

  “I doubt it because she’s afraid of losing her job. However, that fear might make her report things about us to him that don’t implicate her.”

  “Making her a sort of triple agent. We have to be careful what we tell her. We can’t trust anybody.”

  “Just like when we were working together. We should feel right at home.”

  “Now I remember why I left you. It was because wherever you went, trouble followed.”

  “Speak for yourself, John.”

  ***

  Drake’s after-dinner regimen mainly involved getting himself ready for the next day. Since the routine included sleeping a lot, it didn’t give him much time for night life. Up to now he hadn’t felt like doing anything, anyway, but as his body healed, he began to have his old urges. So far he hadn’t acted on them beyond wondering whether it was possible for him to patch up his relationship with Melody.

  He had just emerged from a cold bath and was drying himself briskly with a too-small motel towel, trying to get some warmth back into his body. He couldn’t take a bath right after they finished running because he’d gone to a chiropractor, but he had to admit that Melody was right and the cold helped, even if hot water was a lot more comfortable.

  Sleeping, stretching, chiropractors, cold water. All necessary to keep his aging and damaged body moving. Once they got beyond the populated area of Southern California, daily chiropractic sessions would no longer be an option, so he had to take advantage of that opportunity while he could.

  It wasn’t even nine o’clock, and he didn’t feel like going to bed yet. He pulled on pants and a shirt without much of a plan beyond perhaps wandering over to the room shared by Melody and Grace to see if they wanted to play cards or something. The corridor was empty and everything was quiet. Tired runners weren’t noisy at night, so they didn’t disturb the other guests.

  Drake remembered that Melody’s room was the first one along the hallway. He knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” It was Grace’s voice.

  “Drake.”

  The door opened.

  “Is Melody here?”

  “No, she isn’t.”

  “Oh, sorry.” He turned to leave.

  “Would you like to come in?”

  Drake turned back, surprised, and saw Grace’s welcoming smile.

  “Well…I think I’ll—”

  “I’m just reading a book. Come on in for a minute and keep me company. I’m lonely.”

  “Well, all right.”

  He was surprised that Grace was willing to be alone with him in a motel room. She pointed to a chair and sat down herself on one of the beds hard enough that she bounced. Lending credence to the probability that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her Running California tank top. He asked her where Melody was.

  “She went out with Tom and Jerry for a drink.”

  “Oh.” He was surprised at what he felt. She was a big girl and could do what she liked. She certainly wouldn’t break training. She was probably drinking club soda. “Why didn’t you go?”

  “Well, if you want to know the honest truth, I think runners are a little strange with their diets and all the things they do to keep fit. Kind of self-centered.” She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, I didn’t mean you. You’re a real person.”

  “Thank you, I think.”

  They both laughed.

  Grace said, “I had a strange conversation with Glen. He told me that every morning he tapes his toes to avoid blisters and his ankles to avoid tendonitis. Then he puts Band-Aids on his nipples to avoid chafing. On a hot day he puts Vaseline on his armpits and crotch, and in what he called his nether regions. He gave a dissertation on how he prepares his bowels so he won’t have to go during the race. If you want to make time with a girl, that definitely isn’t the way to do it.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  They laughed again. Drake had an idea.

  “Not to change a subject that fascinates me since I’m a runner, but do you think you could find out who the other people monitoring the run are besides you and Fred and Peaches—I mean without endangering yourself?”

  “I think so. Fred keeps information like that in his attaché case. We have three vehicles: the bus, a van, and a car. I drive the car and the van, and I’m learning to drive the bus. Of course we have to carry our stuff from one place to the next, some in the bus and some in the van. Fred’s attaché case is usually in the van. It’s just a question of picking the right moment.”

  “Does he keep it locked?”

  “Yes, but…” She reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a key.

  “How did you get that?”

  “This morning I was helping him pack up. One of the keys dropped on the floor. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I figured if I were going to be a spy—”

  “Didn’t he miss it?”

  “He ranted and raved about it being lost, but he’s got another one. He’ll forget about it.”

  She was braver than he thought.

  “Has he bothered you any more?”

  “No.” Grace smiled. “Not since Melody and I started rooming together. I think Melody scares the hell out of him.”

  Drake’s thought was that Grace looked so good with her long black hair and dressed in shorts and a skimpy top that she was beginning to scare him. He stood up.

  “Well, being a runner in training, I’ve got to do strange things like going to bed early.”

  She stood up, facing him, inches away, her voice soft. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  He spoke quickly. “No, not tonight. See you tomorrow.”

  He edged past her, being careful not to touch her, and made a hasty exit.

  CHAPTER 15

  Today’s run starts at Topanga State Beach and heads west to Leo Carrillo State Beach on the Ventura County border. You will complete the first part on the sand, which will give you the opportunity to get a seaside look at the mansions of the rich and famous who live on the beach at Malibu. Some of the houses are built close to the high tide line. Depending on the state of the tide, you may occasionally have to run around the columns supporting the structures. Try not to aggravate the owners or their guards. After going through Malibu, we will have somebody stationed to direct you to Route 1 for an easy lope along the road to the end of the day’s route.

  ***

  Melody didn’t mention that she had gone out for a drink with Tom and Jerry. She also didn’t say anything about Drake’s meeting with Grace. Perhaps Grace hadn’t told her. Or perhaps she figured talking about it would lead to a discussion of her own activities.

  Drake decided that silence was the best policy on his part. He didn’t have the right to quiz Melody, and he felt uncomfortable talking about Grace. Although he shouldn’t. Nothing had happened between them. And, as a very old and very racist saying went: They were all free, white, and twenty-one. Except that Melody believed everybody belonged to the same race and that traits like color were a miniscule variation because of the latitude where one’s ancestors had lived. I
n addition, Grace wasn’t just white but a mixture. A mixture of latitudes. So what did that make her? Perhaps anything she wanted to be.

  Drake reminded himself to quit following wisps of ideas that avoided the issue and net out what was important. Again. He had a habit of doing that. He had some sort of feeling for Grace, probably not wholesome, and he didn’t want to discuss it with Melody. He was disturbed that Melody went out without telling him, but she didn’t answer to him. So there. End of thought process. He chuckled.

  “What are you laughing about?”

  Drake’s muscles contracted in a startle reflex as Melody’s question brought him back to the present.

  “I was just thinking that these houses are so close to the water that a tsunami from an earthquake like the one in Alaska in nineteen sixty-four would wash them all out to sea. That one uprooted redwood trees.”

  “That helicopter is flying awfully low.”

  Drake glanced up as the chopper went past them heading east along the line of the beach. He turned his head to follow its flight and could just barely make out Harrison and Danny who were trailing the pack of runners today. Danny had complained that his knee hurt, and Fred had sent him to a doctor who had taken x-rays and recommended that he not run for a while.

  That wasn’t an option, of course, and Danny was struggling to stay in the race. Drake wondered whether he and Harrison would be the first team to drop out. Knee problems could be serious, and they were usually not curable overnight.

  The rest of the runners were within fifty yards of each other. Yesterday, Drake and Melody had finished within a couple of minutes of the four leading teams.

  “We have to figure out how we can gain on Tom and Jerry. Maybe we should try to break away from the pack.”

  Melody looked sideways at Drake. “You know how that would end. Try not to worry about my mum. Something will turn up.”

  “I’ll call Blade tonight to see if he’s found out anything on the prints.”

  “Better give him a few more days.”

  “Fred has got to be part of this. I’m going to put him on the rack—”

  “Not yet.”

  Melody was trying to keep him calm, even though she had more to lose.

  The explosion behind them rocked Drake. He caught his balance and turned around in time to see black smoke rising from a beach house and several objects arcing their way toward the smoke from the ocean. His military experience immediately told him that they were shells of some sort.

  Even as disbelief filled his mind, the shells hit houses in the vicinity of the one that had absorbed the first blast, sending smoke and debris into the air. Eerie silence followed. Drake glanced out to sea. He thought he saw something disappear under the waves, but he couldn’t be sure. He realized that Melody was clinging to him.

  “Bloody hell!”

  Her grip was so tight it hurt his arm. The other runners had stopped, also, and were looking at the smoke with their mouths open. The assault appeared to have stopped. Other than half a dozen beachgoers, they were the closest people to the destruction. Drake started running back toward the houses. Melody and the other runners followed him.

  Three or four houses had been hit. Anybody who had been inside one of the houses was probably dead. Flames started to shoot up from the wreckage. Whatever the shells hadn’t already destroyed, fires would.

  Melody asked the question that had just occurred to Drake. “Where are Harrison and Danny?”

  “I don’t see them. They must have been close to those houses.”

  The smoke, which had initially surged straight up, was being carried away from them by the prevailing wind. Drake could see the beach in front of the houses. Two men were lying on the sand.

  “Look.” He pointed toward the men.

  “That’s them. Harrison and Danny.”

  Drake and Melody ran up to the pair who were lying amid debris blown from the houses. They were close enough to feel the heat from the flames. Harrison lay face down with his arms and legs spread out at grotesque angles. He had been hit by a large chunk of concrete. There was no way he could still be alive. But Danny was lying on his back and moving. Drake dropped to the ground beside him. His eyes were open. They looked at Drake with fear and confusion. He was in shock.

  Blood gushed from a wound in his leg. Melody was already pulling her first aid kit out of her pouch. She extracted a gauze pad, placed it directly on the wound, and pressed. Stop the bleeding. That was the first rule of helping wounded soldiers.

  Drake looked at the burning mansions. They were ovens. Nobody could go in there, and nobody could have survived inside them. In the distance he already heard sirens. The local fire company was on the ball. The firemen would keep the fires from spreading to other houses. The paramedics would take care of Danny and get him to a hospital. It was too late for Harrison and anyone who had been inside the houses. Drake didn’t see any other casualties on the beach. Tuesday was a workday and not a beach day. Luckily.

  He had to get to someone higher in the hierarchy than the local authorities and tell them what he had seen. An older couple had come out of a house several doors from the conflagration. The man and wife watched in horror. Drake would use their phone to call Blade in Washington. In a few words he told Melody what he was going to do. She nodded and gave a terse response, indicating that she would take care of Danny until help arrived.

  Drake rose and became aware of the other runners clustered around them. Phil and Brian had tried to assist Harrison and were shaking their heads in horror.

  Drake said, “Danny’s going to be all right.”

  As he headed for the house and a phone, he hoped he had spoken the truth.

  ***

  “Harrison’s body is being returned to his parents in Riverside. I’ve talked to them and expressed our condolences. I know how badly you all feel. We’ll take tomorrow off in his memory and hold our own memorial service.”

  “So you’re not going to cancel the run?” The question came from Aki.

  Casey looked surprised. “We definitely want to continue the run. I visited Danny in the hospital. He wants us to continue as a tribute to Harrison. I think it’s important that we continue.”

  “How is Danny doing?”

  “A couple of days in the hospital and Danny’s leg will be fine. He lost some blood, but Melody’s quick action prevented him from losing more. He’ll be running again in a few weeks.”

  Casey smiled at Melody who was sitting beside Drake in a conference room of the motel. All the remaining runners were there, as well as Fred, Peaches, and Grace. Casey had magically appeared at the motel that afternoon, saying that he had been in the L.A. area on business.

  Winthrop raised his hand, and Casey recognized him.

  “Isn’t there some…danger to us? Couldn’t there be another…attack or whatever it was?”

  Nobody seemed to know what had happened. Drake hadn’t told anybody except Melody and Blade what he had seen. Apparently the others hadn’t seen the shells in flight and possibly a boat like a submarine. He didn’t plan to say anything until he had spoken to the military personnel who were converging on the spot. Coast Guard helicopters were already making flyovers of the Malibu area. He also suspected that naval vessels were cruising up from San Diego.

  Casey spoke, carefully choosing his words. “I don’t think there’s any danger. If I did, I wouldn’t allow the run to continue. Although we don’t know what happened, we can be sure that the authorities are looking into it. As an incentive for the remaining nine teams to continue, Giganticorp will pay you a per diem of a thousand dollars a team, payable when you complete the race.”

  Drake and Melody were already receiving the per diem. Now all the teams would get it. Casey really wanted the race to continue. He talked about logistics. Today’s run would not count. They would start again the day after tomorrow from the point where today’s run would have ended if it had been completed.

  A motel clerk came into the room and got Cas
ey’s attention. He said that a visitor was in the lobby for Mr. Drake. Drake rose and signaled Casey that he had to leave. It was probably somebody from the military. He strode down the corridor and into the lobby, expecting to see a man in a military uniform. Who he saw was definitely military—or more correctly, retired military. He was in civilian clothes. He was—Drake’s father.

  Drake was not easily surprised by most events, but this was a surprise. He hadn’t seen his father for over four years. From around the time he quit working for the federal government. It wasn’t that Admiral Justin Drake had disowned him. He just hadn’t communicated with him. He rebuffed Drake’s attempts at communication.

  Drake saw his father before the older man saw him. He looked trim and fit as he sat ramrod-straight on the edge of a chair, reading something. Even his civilian clothes were worn with military precision, including a gleaming belt buckle. His short hair was snow white, and the wrinkles on his face had been earned by many years of service and sacrifice for his country.

  Drake hated to disturb the peaceful scene, but he had no choice. “Hello, Father.”

  Admiral Drake looked up from the piece of paper he was reading. “Hello, Oliver.”

  They had always addressed each other formally. The admiral stood slowly, and Drake saw some strain in his face. He suspected his father had arthritis, but he would never admit that his body wasn’t in top shape. He didn’t smile as they shook hands. A hug was out of the question.

  “I’m glad you survived the shelling today.”

  “I am too. One of our runners was killed.”

  “I know. I listened to the news on the way over here. There are four confirmed dead. The involved houses are still being searched for casualties.”

  A dozen questions competed with each other in Drake’s head. He chose the least personal one. “How do you know the houses got shelled?”

  “I got a call from Andy Anderson. He’s on the board of Giganticorp.”

  Admiral Anderson. Drake knew that Anderson and his father had been in the same class at the Naval Academy. That also explained how his father had heard he was in the race. His father lived in Bakersfield, in the San Joaquin Valley. He must have hopped in his car and driven here as soon as he got the call from Admiral Anderson. Drake suspected that his main reason for coming was not to see his only son.