Run into Trouble

by Alan Cook

  ***

  “Isn’t that Peaches?”

  “Where?”

  Drake looked past several of the runners who were ahead of them and over to the side of the road where Melody was directing her gaze. They were running on the road because it was faster than running on the beach. The beach along here got very narrow at times with houses and rocks blocking the way. These beach houses, like the ones at Malibu, were vulnerable to any kind of an attack from the sea. That was crazy thinking. Who was going to attack beach houses? And yet it had happened. It almost seemed like a dream. A beach setting was too idyllic. Maybe it hadn’t happened at all.

  Drake finally picked out Peaches. Seeing him here was not unexpected, because he and Grace were often stationed along the way to make sure that everyone was following the correct route. Routes were no longer designated, apparently, but the two still were needed to supply water at places all the runners were bound to pass and check to see that they were all right. Peaches appeared to be in his own world. He wasn’t even looking at the runners. He had his jacket off and was moving in circles. Drake was amazed at how gracefully he moved.

  “What the hell is he doing?”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but he looks like he’s dancing.”

  “Maybe he’s practicing a new form of karate.”

  “No, look. He’s got an invisible partner. His right arm is around her waist. His left hand is holding her hand. He’s waltzing. One two three, one two three…”

  The other runners gawked at Peaches as they gulped down cups of water he had set out. A couple of them were brave enough to make joking comments as they ran by, comparing him to Fred Astaire. He ignored them. The taciturn man who always looked somewhat ominous had a radiant glow on his face as he whirled around to music that only he could hear.

  Drake and Melody grabbed the paper cups without stopping, and spilled water dripped off their chins as they drank. Melody was mesmerized by Peaches. “He’s a lot better than some of the blokes who used to step on my feet.”

  “You used to dance?”

  “When I was young. Before I met you.”

  “I never knew that.”

  “Pardon me, but you never struck me as being the dancing type.”

  That was true. He had gone to dances when he was in school because that’s where the girls were, but he had never been any great shakes on the dance floor.

  Melody was musing out loud as they started running again.

  “That’s a new side of Peaches we haven’t seen before. I’m going to try to get to know him better. He might be useful to us in trying to figure out what’s going on here.”

  “Be careful. You don’t know anything about him. He might be a…”

  “A harasser? Grace says that he’s always treated her with respect. You’re thinking of Fred. I let you deal with Fred. By the way, he didn’t admit to anything, did he? We still don’t know what his connection is with whoever is sending the notes.”

  Peaches was a sealed box to Drake. Although he had been alone with him several times going to appointments with a chiropractor, the man hadn’t opened up to him at all.

  “If you’re going to talk to Peaches, I’m going to be with you.”

  “You’ve talked to Peaches. He hasn’t told you anything. Now it’s my turn.”

  ***

  “We may have hit the jackpot here.”

  Drake was surprised at the animation in Blade’s voice. He shifted the motel room phone to his left ear so that he could take notes with his right hand. He no longer bothered to find a phone booth when he called Blade. “How?”

  “One of the guys whose names you gave me has his prints on file with the FBI. They match the prints on the letter.”

  “I didn’t know you talked to the FBI.”

  “We do when we have to. Your Malibu incident lent a little impetus to that. His name is Dennis Sterling, aka Dennis the Menace Woodbury, aka lots of other names. The name you gave us was Sterling, so we checked the prints on the letter against the prints for that name on the FBI file. They matched.”

  “I’m glad to see that you’re doing some useful work. Tell me about this guy Sterling.”

  “He’s not your usual hood. He’s got a degree from a revered eastern university I hesitate to mention by name because you’ll make derisive comments. He’s served time for extortion and blackmail. He’s got connections in Las Vegas.”

  Drake made a couple of notes. “Before, you said that Las Vegas didn’t care about Running California.”

  “We’re revising our thinking on that and doing some checking.”

  “What about the other two names we gave you?”

  “We came up blank on them. It doesn’t mean they don’t have records. They may be using aliases we don’t know about.”

  “Aliases? Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Okay, smart ass, here’s one for you. Apparently, you’re the only living person who saw what actually happened in Malibu. Can you think of a scenario that would involve the Vegas mob in that?”

  “You’re trying to tie Malibu to my letters? Sounds like a stretch.”

  “We’re stretching as far as we can, son. Moscow has made an official denial that they had any part in this. We have no evidence to prove otherwise. There aren’t too many other loose cannons in the world. Germany and Japan have been peaceful for years. We don’t think North Korea has the capability. Everyone here’s going berserk.”

  “The marines have invaded Malibu. Destroyers are cruising off the coast.”

  “That’s my point. We’re acting like World War Three has started, and we don’t have an enemy.”

  “That never stopped the military before.”

  “Here’s something to think about. It’s a lot easier for governments to grab power during a crisis. It doesn’t matter whether the crisis is real or invented, as long as people think it’s real.”

  “Would you like to repeat that for the record?”

  “No. If you quote me, I’ll deny it, and you’ll be shark bait.”

  “I’m trembling in my boots. Was Sterling born in the U.S.?”

  “Yes, in Minnesota.”

  “So his English is probably better than what’s in the letters, even though his education isn’t proof of that. Does he have any connections with the commies?”

  “None that we know of.”

  “Give me a description of him, in case he’s still around.”

  “I’ll do better than that. I’ll give you a description and also have Slick deliver a picture of him to you. Call Slick and tell him where you are.”

  ***

  Drake had borrowed the Giganticorp car and was driving himself into Santa Barbara for his appointment with a chiropractor. That meant Peaches would be free after he delivered the runners to the motel in the bus. All the runners had finished within a few minutes of each other. There had been no spectacular breakaways. They had followed the same route. As far as Melody knew, there had been no changes in position. She and Drake were still in ninth place.

  In spite of what she had said to Drake about getting to know Peaches better, she didn’t have any idea of how to go about doing it. She had made sure that she was the last person to get off the bus. She stopped beside Peaches, who was still in the driver’s seat.

  “Uh, Peaches, I was wondering whether you could help me with something.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  At least he hadn’t rebuffed her.

  “Look, can I buy you a drink or something?”

  “I don’t drink.”

  That was a surprise.

  “I don’t drink much either. How about a Pepsi or a Coke? Or even a cup of coffee?”

  Peaches smiled, the first time Melody had seen that expression on his face. It made him look a lot less formidable. “You don’t have to buy me anything. Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.”

  ***

  They sat on a small patio in the back of the motel overlooking the sea. While she was runni
ng, Melody rarely thought about how beautiful the ocean could be, especially when it was calm, like an endless field planted with a blue crop. The few ripples were not unlike those caused by windblown grain. Not far offshore, the Channel Islands beckoned, promising romance, much as Bali Hai promised romance for Lieutenant Cable in South Pacific.

  Melody had made herself a cup of tea from the motel’s supply of hot water and tea bags. It wasn’t English tea made in a pot, but she had learned to accept what passed for tea in the U.S. She didn’t doctor it with large quantities of milk and cream like many of her fellow Brits, so she could actually taste the tea. Peaches had settled for a glass of water, in spite of her attempts to get him something more.

  Peaches was silent after they sat down, seemingly as enrapt with the view as she was. He was wearing a short-sleeved white shirt, having taken off his jacket and tie. As far as Melody could tell, he wasn’t carrying a gun. She decided it was up to her to start the conversation. “May I ask what your real name is? Peaches doesn’t seem to fit you, somehow.”

  Peaches smiled for the second time. “My name is Robert.”

  “So where does Peaches come from?”

  “One of Fred’s daughters came to work with him one day. She saw me eating a peach and referred to me later as the peach man. Fred got a kick out of that and started calling me Peaches. It stuck to me like a burr in the woods. That man has a weird sense of humor.”

  “But you don’t mind?”

  Peaches shrugged. “As long as they pay me, they can call me anything they like.”

  Melody didn’t want it to sound as if she were interrogating him. She decided to ask one more question. “When you’re in San Jose, do you work for Fred?”

  “No. He’s not over security there. Why do you want to talk to me?”

  A little of his gruffness had returned. Melody was correct in stopping the questioning. But how much could she tell him?

  “I want to talk to you about Fred. He strikes me as being a very competent person. He’s doing a good job of running the race. But he seems to have a thing about…women. Both Grace and I have had a problem with him.”

  Peaches didn’t say anything, but Melody saw a muscle twitch in his jaw, as if he were clenching his teeth. Well, she had gone this far. “I can take care of myself, but I don’t want anything to happen to Grace.”

  “Grace is a good girl. I’ll take care of her.”

  The statement had finality to it.

  “Thank you.”

  She couldn’t think of anything to add on that subject. She was aching to ask him one more question. She might not get another chance.

  “We know that Fred is using several men to help him with the race. Men that we haven’t been introduced to, for reasons I can’t comprehend. I was wondering if you had any contact with them.”

  Peaches stiffened visibly. He appeared to be choosing his words carefully. “What Fred does is his business. I will do what he tells me, as long as it isn’t shady. I am not involved with any people in connection with the race other than those you’ve met.”

  That ended that discussion. But Melody didn’t want to end the meeting like this. “I wanted to tell you that I used to do some dancing when I was young. I wasn’t great but I had fun. You looked very graceful today.”

  Peaches smiled for the third time. “We had something called Cotillion when I was in school. My mother made me go. I told her I was a football player, not a dancer, but I secretly enjoyed it. Later I went with a girl who liked to dance.”

  He gazed toward the islands, so close and yet so far. Melody wondered whether he was yearning for his personal Bali Hai.

  CHAPTER 18

  Today we’re going from Carpenteria State Beach through the city of Santa Barbara to a point on Hollister Avenue west of Goleta. Don’t underestimate the run as it is close to marathon distance. Remember that the beach heads east-west here. This is an opportunity for each team to use its skills at picking a route because there are many ways to go. The best route may be some distance inland. For starters, we suggest that you don’t try to follow the beach directly west of Carpenteria, because you’ll run into a marshy area. Go inland to Carpenteria Avenue. You young studs may be tempted to go through Isla Vista to ogle the luscious lovelies on the bathing suit optional beach near the University of California at Santa Barbara. If you do, you’ll get bogged down in sand and dead ends, and it may cost you a million dollars.

  ***

  “This is where we separate the men from the boys.”

  Drake was feeling better than he had at any time since the race had started. Not only physically but his face was almost back to normal. Practically gone were the black eyes and discolored nose. He had to look closely in the mirror to tell that his nose was permanently enlarged and had a slight hook to it. He told himself that he had never been vain about his appearance, but it was nice that the visual reminders of his injuries were disappearing.

  Melody chuckled. “This life seems to agree with you. I’ve never seen you acting so youthful. Perhaps your aging clock is rewinding, and you’re getting younger.”

  “That would be nice, to a point. Right now I’ll settle for gaining on Tom and Jerry.”

  They were running an inland route carefully picked out by Drake who had acquired a map of Santa Barbara. One thing he had learned in the service of his country was map reading, and he figured that gave them an edge over the other teams.

  Melody looked around her. On a summer Saturday the locals and tourists were heading for the beach or shopping. The sidewalks weren’t crowded.

  “I don’t see anybody else. We haven’t been this alone since the first few days when everybody ran away from us. Hopefully, that isn’t happening today.”

  “We’ll be doing quite a stretch on Hollister Avenue. We should find out how we stand then.”

  Grace had eaten dinner with them last night. After dinner, Drake had gone through his routine of getting ready for the next day, including taking a cold bath. That hadn’t given him time to talk to Melody alone. “I take it that you and Peaches are buddy-buddy now.”

  “Not even matey-matey, but he did open up to me a little. I got the impression that he’s not a member of the Fred fan club and won’t play his silly games.”

  “So he’s not part of the threatening letter team.”

  “Not if we can believe him. He also said he’d take care of Grace.”

  “I heard you tell her that. Although I think she considers you to be her biggest protection.”

  Melody laughed. “Well, I did do a little finger twisting. Speaking of mates, how did your chat with Blade turn out? I take it that he’s the one who put you on to this bloke Sterling.”

  Drake had told Grace to be on the lookout for Sterling and had given her his description without telling her where he had obtained the information. She hadn’t asked. He filled Melody in on what Drake had said about Sterling.

  “I may be able to get Peaches to help look for him.”

  “Be careful doing that. Do you trust him?”

  “We have to trust somebody. Did Blade have any other words of wisdom?”

  “He says the military thinks we’re in World War Three, but not the president. There’s a difference of opinion. Hopefully, the president can retain control of the military, like he’s supposed to. But some people, in and out of government, are trying to influence public opinion in favor of war.”

  “That’s scary.”

  ***

  When they spotted the Giganticorp bus parked on Hollister Avenue marking the end of the day’s run, Drake and Melody still didn’t see any runners in front of them. As they drew closer, they saw Peaches standing beside the bus, presumably holding a stopwatch, but he appeared to be alone.

  “Where is everybody?” Melody asked. “Do you think they’re inside the bus?”

  Drake was afraid to speculate. Either he and Melody were very late, or just perhaps… As they came up to Peaches, he had a smile on his face. It was the first time Drak
e had ever seen him smile.

  “Congratulations. You’re the first team to finish.”

  As Peaches wrote their time down on a clipboard, Melody gave Drake a big hug. Memories of how good her hugs felt flooded back. They waited for the other teams to finish. And waited. It was a good five minutes before the next team came into view. The two runners approaching weren’t Tom and Jerry. Or Phil and Brian, the overall second place team.

  It took forty-five minutes before all the other teams straggled in. Drake and Melody stood on either side of Peaches, peering over his shoulder at the clipboard as he wrote down times, comparing them to the teams’ overall times, which were also on the clipboard. He didn’t seem to mind.

  When the dust settled, Drake and Melody had not only gained on all the other teams, they had passed Mike and Aki and were now in eighth place. They hugged again.

  ***

  Drake wasn’t a fan of speechmaking by politicians. He remembered being in a stadium full of Eisenhower supporters when he was in college. A member of Eisenhower’s campaign staff had the crowd chanting “I like Ike,” louder and louder, whipping them into a frenzy. Drake, who didn’t participate in the chant, felt like an observer from another planet. The ability of one man to bend the crowd to his wishes scared him. It reminded him of what he had heard about Hitler’s hypnotic power over audiences.

  The reason he wanted to hear this speech was because of the events that were taking place around them—and the fact that the speaker was Casey, making the first big campaign speech of his Senate race, right here in Santa Barbara.

  The other runners had passed on the event, feeling that their sleep was more important. Fred apparently had already been with Casey all day. Melody invited Peaches who declined to come. Grace produced the keys to the company car and sat in the backseat.

  “It’s curious that Mr. Messinger is giving a speech here in Santa Barbara just as the runners are coming through.”