Run into Trouble Read online

  Peaches stopped again and took another drink of his tea. Melody was confused.

  “So what do you make of this?”

  “I think Fred knew the accident was going to happen.”

  “You mean he planned it?”

  “He may have set it up, but it would have been Casey’s idea. Fred wouldn’t have done it by himself.”

  “But why? Especially if he wanted Drake in the race?”

  Peaches shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve been over it and over it in my head, and I can’t figure it out.”

  CHAPTER 28

  More of the same today as you run from Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park to Palo Colorado Road near the Carmel Highlands, all on Route 1. Early on, the route goes up to over 900 feet and then sharply downhill, bottoming out not far above sea level at the Little Sur River. Then up to 500 feet before falling again. This will be another test of your ability to run in the hills. Watch for traffic; shoulders are often narrow or non-existent.

  ***

  “How does it feel to be in third place?”

  Tom addressed this question to Melody. It was early in the run. Low-lying fog hid the water, and it was hazy enough on the road to keep the temperature cool. The teams were still closely bunched, but they were attacking a major climb. Melody knew from recent experience that by the end of the run, they would be spread out over several miles.

  “It feels great; if you and Jerry would agree to walk today’s route, it would feel even better.”

  Tom laughed. He and Jerry still held a substantial lead, and they had an annoying habit of dogging the heels of whoever was in first place during the daily runs and never losing very much ground. Not all the runners were as sanguine about the fact that Melody and Drake had managed to go from ninth place to third place in a short period of time. There were grumblings, especially since Melody was a “girl,” but none of the runners had dared to say anything to her face. What could they say—that she had an unfair advantage on the hills because she was lighter? It wasn’t as if she were attached to a helium balloon.

  Drake, who was running a step behind Melody, touched her arm and motioned for her to fall back slightly.

  “Are you going to fill me in on your dinner with Peaches? I expected you to come to my room last night.”

  “It was fairly late when we got back. I knew you would be going through your routine, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “How thoughtful of you. I take it you two hit it off.”

  “Yes, we did. Peaches is a gentleman, which makes him a member of a rare breed.”

  Melody was sure Peaches had enjoyed her company, although he hadn’t tried anything, and except for wearing her most revealing dress, she hadn’t tried to lead him on. However, she wouldn’t mind causing Drake a twinge of jealousy. On second thought, she didn’t know whether he was capable of that emotion. Maybe she should just tell him what Peaches had told her.

  “One reason I didn’t see you last night is because I thought you should be rested when I told you what Peaches said.”

  Drake was instantly all ears. “What did he say?”

  Melody repeated the description Peaches had given of how Fred had acted before and after the accident and Peaches’ thoughts about Casey’s involvement.

  “That bastard.” Drake stumbled and almost fell. “So Casey didn’t want me in the race, after all.”

  “If that’s true, he changed his mind. But Peaches doesn’t think it’s that simple.”

  Melody told how Drake had been picked because of his father. Drake was livid.

  “He’s not only a bastard, he’s a conniving bastard. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “You may get the opportunity. Peaches thinks that Casey is in Monterey. We’ll be staying in the Carmel area tonight. Carmel isn’t far from Monterey.

  ***

  Melody insisted on going along when Drake borrowed the company car and drove to Monterey. She was afraid of what Drake might do to Casey. They found out what hotel Casey was staying at from Fred, and after leaving a couple of urgent messages, Casey had called them back and agreed to meet them for dinner.

  If Casey was concerned with what Drake wanted, he didn’t show it as he escorted them into one of Monterey’s finest restaurants after meeting them in the parking lot. Drake let him order the wine before he started talking.

  “I want to talk about the accident that happened the day the race was supposed to start.”

  Casey nodded, apparently unconcerned. “You’re fully recovered from that, aren’t you?”

  “Except for my back. I still have spasms; I’m always going to have to be careful of it. But I want to discuss how it happened. Everybody agrees that it was intentional. That being the case, somebody paid the truck driver to cause it. My contacts tell me that my previous employer had nothing to do with it. Any enemies I might have made in the world would have acted years ago.”

  “So what do you think happened?”

  “One of my contacts has come up with something. All of the evidence points to one person.”

  “And that is…?”

  “You.”

  Drake’s eyes bored into Casey’s. He was enjoying this, even though Casey had on his poker face.

  “Me? Surely you jest. I’m paying you to be in this race. As they say on Perry Mason, what’s my motivation?”

  Drake shrugged. “Damned if I know. But then I never did understand all the ins and outs of politics. I think I’ll have a talk with my father about this. He’s a lot more politically tuned in than I am.”

  Drake continued to watch Casey. Did he see a slight change in his expression? Had he gotten to him? Casey shifted in his seat. Drake waited for him to speak. Casey took a deep breath.

  “I have a confession. I really did want you in the race. When we approached you, you agreed to run, but not with the wholehearted enthusiasm of most of the other runners. I was afraid you’d fall behind and drop out. I needed a way to get you to stay. I decided to frighten you into thinking that someone from your past was trying to hurt you, and that the safest place for you was in the race.”

  “Frighten me? Hurt me? You damn near killed me.”

  “That was a terrible mistake. The truck driver was overzealous. I just wanted him to bump the taxi—to give you a warning. He didn’t get the right message. Look, I want to make it up to you. Starting today, I’m going to double your per diem to two thousand dollars—a thousand apiece.” He managed a smile. “I’m sure you won’t have to mention any of this to your father.”

  It was concession time. Drake would be a fool not to milk it. “There’s one other thing you can do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Give Melody and me a tour of the submarine.”

  “It’s off-limits.”

  “Melody and I both had top secret clearances, as I’m sure you know. You’ve got a lot of strings you can pull. It’s not too much to ask. How about after dinner?”

  Casey appeared to be thinking that over.

  “You drive a hard bargain. I’ll see what I can arrange.”

  Casey excused himself and went to a payphone.

  ***

  The boat was moored in a corner of the Monterey marina, surrounded by makeshift tarpaulins to hide it from the view of the common people, and guarded by armed sailors in uniform who patrolled the pier leading to it. Casey had apparently talked to the right authorities, because when he flashed his badge to the naval officer in charge, he was waved through, along with Drake and Melody.

  Drake wondered what the officer thought about Casey escorting a man casually dressed in civilian clothes and a pretty, miniskirted blond. Melody’s youthful good looks had gotten her into places when they worked together that would have been denied to somebody who aroused suspicions.

  The boat looked larger than Drake remembered, but he had seen it from a distance. It probably could hold a crew of six, perhaps more. A makeshift gangplank had been extended from the pier to the boat.


  Melody was glad she had worn flat shoes with nonskid soles. She and Drake had decided to attempt to find a way to see the boat up close, and so they were prepared. Even the short skirt was part of the plan. When they reached the boat, they had to descend a metal-runged ladder to the interior.

  Drake said, “Let Melody go first so we won’t be looking up her skirt.”

  Melody didn’t wait for Casey’s consent; she swung her foot onto a rung and climbed down as fast as she could. At the bottom she found herself in what must be the control room. The interior lights were turned on; it should be bright enough. She reached into her bra and pulled out a tiny Minox camera that she had used for her work in England. She had brought it to California because it was the only camera she owned.

  She began snapping pictures as fast as she could, trying to photograph the instruments and the dials, and anything else that might be of interest. She kept an eye on the ladder. When she saw Drake’s legs appear next, she continued shooting. Drake’s head came into sight; he gave her an encouraging nod.

  When Casey’s legs appeared on the ladder, she stopped shooting and slipped the camera back inside her bra. When the rest of him followed, she smiled at him. “This is a lovely boat. But how do the men stand to live in here? Everything’s so tiny.”

  It pained Melody to have to talk like a clueless female, but she had to keep Casey from getting suspicious.

  “Submariners can’t have claustrophobia.”

  Drake was inspecting what must be the periscope. “I understand that Giganticorp is developing a submarine similar to this. Can you explain what all this stuff is for?”

  Casey could and did. He showed them how a pair of torpedoes were stored and fired. The gun that had lobbed the shells onto the beach was kept inside the sub and raised when it surfaced. They toured the sleeping quarters where you had to be good friends with your bunkmates. They saw a small galley. Drake was interested to note that any food that had been stored there had apparently been taken off the sub when the crew mysteriously disappeared. The crew hadn’t left any clothing or other personal belongings either.

  Casey’s knowledge of the sub was so extensive that Drake became suspicious. Casey said he had been briefed by the people who had inspected it, because Giganticorp was also developing a mini-submarine. But his wealth of information went beyond that. There was almost a fatherly pride in Casey’s voice when he talked about all the gadgets and technological wonders.

  Drake distracted Casey so that Melody could take some more pictures. She managed to get a few, but she figured that the ones she had taken initially in the control room were the most important. When they exited the boat, Casey and Drake gallantly went up the ladder first, which allowed Melody to take more shots in the control room. She adjusted the distance control, trying to ensure maximum sharpness and duplicated some of her earlier pictures. She knew she’d better stop when she heard Casey’s voice from above.

  “Are you coming up?”

  “Coming.” Melody once more shoved the camera into her bra and climbed the ladder. “I wanted to take one last look. I’ve never been in a real submarine before.”

  Casey offered her a hand to help her from the ladder to the gangplank, although she didn’t really need it. He gave her a patronizing smile.

  “I’m sure you’re more suited to life on a cabin cruiser, but it’s always fun to see how other people live.”

  ***

  Drake stifled a yawn.

  Slick said, “Are we keeping you up?”

  “Damn right. Don’t forget—we have to run a marathon every day.”

  “Sorry. Somehow I figured that saving the country from idiots might be more important.”

  Drake had called Blade collect from a payphone as soon as they left Casey. When Blade heard about the pictures, he told them that Slick was still in the Monterey area and would meet them in thirty minutes.

  He even had praise for Drake. “I take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about you. You’ve managed to gather more information than Slick has. The military is a tight organization, and it’s difficult for outsiders like us to break into it.”

  “Credit Melody and her short skirt. Without her we couldn’t have done it.”

  “I won’t touch that line with a redwood tree, but give her my thanks. I always said she was too good for you.”

  Drake and Melody had parked on a residential street and waited for Slick’s Porsche to park behind them. He had slipped into the backseat of their sedan where Melody gave him the roll of film. Then they filled him in on what they had observed on the submarine. He also seemed impressed.

  “You two must have been a great team in England. What made you give it up?”

  Drake and Melody took a quick look at each other in the semi-darkness, lit only by the dome light of the car and a streetlight fifty feet from them. Neither was inclined to say anything.

  “All right, sorry I asked. I’ll get the film developed tomorrow, and then we will see what we will see.”

  Slick glanced at a pad on which he had been taking notes.

  “There’s some good stuff here. I’m not exactly an expert on submarines, but we have people who are. They will be very interested in this.”

  Melody had a question for Slick. “Do you ever take off your dark glasses?”

  “I’d take them off for you, honey. Maybe we should meet sometime without this bozo.”

  “Maybe we should.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Today’s run is scenic (as if they all weren’t) and goes around the famous 17 Mile Drive. Enter the Drive at the Carmel Gate. There may be a quicker way to get there than following Route 1 as you get close to the Carmel Gate. Follow the 17 Mile Drive around the peninsula past Pebble Beach and Asilomar, always staying as close to the coast as possible, to the Lighthouse Gate in Pacific Grove. Work your way over to Del Monte Avenue. The run ends at the first intersection of Del Monte Avenue and Route 1 in Sand City.

  ***

  “It’s a good thing we don’t like to play golf. We might get seduced and stay here forever.”

  Melody had been taking in the beautifully manicured golf courses along the 17 Mile Drive, some of them set against the cliffs overlooking the ocean.

  Drake snorted. “The first question I have is how much money is lost in golf balls that go over the cliffs.”

  “Spoken like a true nonbeliever.”

  “I think there’s a fundamental difference between golfers and runners. Golfers make a big show out of having the right equipment and the right balls and the right lessons. Then most of them go out and stink up the course while riding in golf carts, which means that they don’t even get any exercise. Runners are pure; they don’t need fancy equipment. They don’t put on a show. They just run.”

  Melody was laughing so hard that she had trouble running. “Don’t let any of the golfers hear you. They’ll beat you to death with their nine-irons. I wonder what they think when we run past.”

  “They feel a mixture of horror and pity, I’m sure. Just the idea that they might get sweat stains on their peacock shirts is more than they can bear.”

  Melody scanned the road in front and behind them. Every one of the runners was in sight. “It looks like we’re having a group event today. Maybe we should have a picnic together on the rocks—practice our togetherness.”

  “There’ll be a chance for individual initiative when we get to Pacific Grove. We’ll be running on some side streets. Although it may just be the luck of the draw who picks the route with the fewest lights and traffic. Have you had any more thoughts on Casey?”

  “He’s certainly trying to buy your silence, at least as far as your father is concerned.”

  “I’m all for taking his money as compensation for my injuries, but I don’t like his political methods. I don’t like his agenda either—especially the land grab. I’m not going to vote for him.”

  “As long as you’re in the run and you don’t bad-mouth him to your dad, you may be giving him all t
he help he needs.”

  “There’ll be plenty of time to expose him after the run is over.”

  “You hope.”

  ***

  Drake’s message light at the motel in Monterey was blinking. The motel was close to where they had met Casey last night. They could have stayed here both nights, since they had just run around the peninsula that contained Monterey, Pacific Grove, and Carmel, but had not advanced very far up the coast.

  Running the 17 Mile Drive instead of bypassing the area on Route 1 had given them maximum exposure. Sometimes people they passed recognized who they were from their Running California shirts and cheered them on. Having them seen by the populace couldn’t be bad for Casey.

  The message was to meet Slick at a coffee shop in Monterey at six. It was within walking distance of the motel. This left them plenty of time to clean up. Drake called Melody’s room to pass the information on to her.

  ***

  When Drake and Melody walked into the coffee shop precisely at six, Slick wasn’t already there. That was a surprise. They went to a booth in the corner and sat down. They sipped iced tea and waited while speculating what his news would be.

  At 6:15 Drake started to get restless. “I don’t want to sit here and starve while waiting for him not to show. Let’s order dinner.”

  Melody, who had already checked the menu, made a face. “I think this is the original greasy spoon.”

  “You can always order a salad or something.”

  Drake wasn’t as particular about the food he ate. They both settled for fish and chips since this was seafood country. After all, what can you do to fish and chips? Drench the coleslaw in too much mayonnaise and serve soggy chips. Melody remarked that at least they got the name correct, calling them chips instead of French fries.

  “I see you started without me.”

  They were both intent on chewing mouthfuls of food and hadn’t seen Slick approach the table. Drake almost choked on his fish. Melody put her napkin to her mouth to hide the fact that mayonnaise was dribbling down her chin. She recovered first. “We thought you’d fallen off the dock and drowned.”