Run into Trouble Read online

  Nobody volunteered any information. Drake didn’t want to make an issue of it.

  “I have a complaint about the prize money.”

  All eyes looked at Mike, Aki’s teammate.

  “There’s only one prize. It’s winner-take-all. What does the team that finishes second get?”

  “A case of Rice-A-Roni.”

  “An all-expense-paid tour of the California coast.”

  “Tom and Jerry aren’t complaining.”

  Their lead had increased to over fifteen minutes.

  Tom spoke up. “It’s a long race, guys. Anything can happen. You know, we’re taking it one day at a time.”

  Cliché city, but it made him a few points. A vigorous discussion ensued. Drake argued that having one prize fostered competition. His argument lost some force, at least for himself, because he and Melody were being paid to run. It was a good thing the other runners didn’t know that. He rationalized it by telling himself that it was an appearance fee, like some elite runners received for entering marathons. Although why he and Melody deserved an appearance fee he didn’t know.

  One thing everybody agreed on was that the publicity would help them with their running careers. It was also a great vacation and beat working for a living.

  CHAPTER 11

  Today’s run starts at MacArthur Blvd. on Route 1. Follow the road through Newport Beach and across the Santa Ana River, being careful to obey all traffic laws. Run on the beach starting on the far side of the river, through the long and beautiful Huntington Beach, then Bolsa Chica State Beach, and Sunset Beach. Return to Route 1 at the far end of Sunset Beach and follow it into Seal Beach. Jog left on Marina Drive and follow it across the San Gabriel River into Los Angeles County. The run ends at 2nd Street.

  ***

  Drake and Melody actually had several other teams in sight as they crossed the Santa Ana River. In addition, Mike and Aki were behind them.

  “There’s Grace to make sure we get on the beach here.” Melody’s sharp eyes recognized her first.

  “I’ll bet, from what we heard yesterday, that Fred has cars driving up and down PCH making sure we stay on the beach.”

  As they approached Grace, standing on the other side of the bridge, it struck Drake for the first time that she was a very good looking young woman. Clad in shorts and a Running California sleeveless top, she looked like a runner herself. Her long dark hair was in a ponytail, like Melody’s, and her legs were well defined, although she didn’t have the runner’s calves Melody had.

  Grace smiled at them as they came up to her. “Congratulations. You’re within five minutes of four other teams. Keep up the good work.”

  They stopped momentarily and gulped water in paper cups that Grace had set on a tray. Drake took an extra cup and poured the contents over his head. They waved to her and scrambled down from the highway onto the sand. When they regained their strides on the beach, Drake spoke.

  “There’s something about Grace. You know, I don’t think she’s wearing a bra.”

  “It took you long enough to figure that out. I think I can say with certainty now that you’re back to being the old Drake. That’s a relief.”

  “It must be the hippie influence. I’m sure she doesn’t dress like that when she’s in San Jose. She’d better be careful, or the guys will be all over her.”

  “The runners? They’re pussycats. I’ll tell you who she has to worry about.”

  “Who?”

  “Fred.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “No I’m not. During the Pageant he put his hand on my leg.”

  “I didn’t see—”

  “You were engrossed with what was happening on the stage. It was okay; I’ve faced down men bigger than Fred and ten times as vicious. I took hold of his little finger and bent it back until he decided that his hand would be better occupied elsewhere.”

  “You could have broken it.”

  “I considered doing that, but the crime didn’t justify that punishment. I think he’s learned his lesson. However, Grace doesn’t know the tricks I know. It might be a good idea if we got to know her better.”

  “I agree.”

  ***

  They took Grace to an Italian restaurant.

  When they were seated, Melody said, “I hope you like Italian food. We eat Italian a lot because it’s easy to get both protein and carbohydrates in dishes like spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “I love it. In fact, I love almost all food.”

  “It doesn’t show on you. You have a marvelous figure.”

  “Oh, thank you. I like to run—of course not as far as you two. I was on the track team in college. That’s one reason I got to work on the race. I wish I were as thin as you, though.”

  “No you don’t. You only get this thin by running fifteen or more miles a day. When the race is over, I’m going to become a glutton and weigh three hundred pounds.”

  The waitress came and took their order. Melody ordered iced tea, and Grace ordered a glass of red wine. Drake ordered the darkest beer they had, which wasn’t very dark. He had gotten used to drinking Guinness Stout in England.

  Drake knew that if he didn’t assert himself, he might be shut out of the conversation.

  “Grace, tell us about your ancestry.”

  She had the kind of complexion with a perfect balance between too light and too dark that you don’t get out of a bottle or under the sun, although he wasn’t about to give her another compliment and sound like one of the girls.

  Grace laughed. “I’m a mixture of just about everything: white, black, Japanese. I even have some Indian blood—Apache, I think. What about you, Mr. Drake?”

  “Please call me Drake.”

  Melody put on what Drake knew as her sarcastic smile. “He’s very humble.”

  “Oh…sorry…Drake. What’s your ancestry?”

  “Most of the European countries, if you go back far enough. With emphasis on English, Scottish, Irish, and German.”

  Melody said that she was primarily English, Dutch, and French. Drake wanted to steer the conversation to Giganticorp. He asked Grace how long she had worked for them.

  “Almost three years now.”

  “You joined right out of college?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you love it.” Melody said it as a statement, not a question.

  “It’s a wonderful place to work. I’ve learned so much.”

  The way Grace gushed made it sound like a conditioned response.

  “How do you like working for Fred?”

  Grace hesitated. “In San Jose he was several levels above me. I didn’t see him very much.”

  “But here you’re working directly for him.”

  “Yes.”

  Several expressions fought for control of her face, none of them happy. It appeared that Melody was onto something, Drake thought. Better that he didn’t interfere.

  When Grace didn’t speak for several seconds, Melody spoke again. “Let me tell you a little story. The other night at the ‘Pageant of the Masters’ I sat beside Fred. During the show he touched me inappropriately.”

  A look of fright had gained control of Grace’s face.

  “I was wondering if anything like that had happened to you.”

  Grace remained silent for long seconds. Then she spoke in a pleading voice. “I don’t want to lose my job.” She looked at Drake.

  Melody saw the look. “You can talk in front of Drake. He’s safe. Nothing you say leaves the table.”

  Grace’s expression changed to one of determination. “Several nights ago when I was in my room there was a knock on the door. I asked who it was. It was Fred. He said he had something to tell me. When I let him in, he said something inconsequential. Then he said how good the Running California shirt looked on me. He began to trace the letters on the shirt with his finger. I jumped back.”

  Grace stopped to gain control of her voice. “He told me not to be afraid. I let him trace the letters, hoping th
at was all he was going to do. But then he put both hands under my shirt.”

  She stopped, shuddering.

  Melody prompted her. “What did you do then?”

  “When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I told him I was going to scream. He told me not to scream and that he was just being friendly. Then he left the room. I felt dirty. I took a long shower.”

  “That does it,” Melody said. “Starting this minute, you and I are rooming together.”

  Grace’s scared expression returned. “No. Fred wouldn’t like that.”

  “I’ll handle Fred. I’ll tell him I’m afraid of the dark. Don’t worry. He’ll agree to anything I say.”

  Drake saw that Grace was wavering. “When Melody is determined, she’s like a bulldozer. Nobody can stand in her way. I know.” He smiled ruefully.

  “Well…”

  “There won’t be any repercussions for you. Your job is safe. We guarantee it.” Drake smiled an empathy smile. “You’re too good a person to have bad things happen to you.”

  “Thank you. Oh, there’s one thing. Sometimes I have to get up at night to run errands for Fred. I might disturb you.”

  It was Melody’s turn to smile. “As long as the errands don’t involve him feeling you up, you won’t bother me. I sleep like a stone.”

  Grace looked from one of them to the other. “You’re such good people.”

  “Don’t let it get around,” Drake said with mock concern. “You might ruin our reputations.” He saw the waitress approaching with their plates. “Something smells delicious. Let’s eat.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Today’s run is being split into two parts. All of it is on hard surface. Start on 2nd Street and head west into Long Beach. Jog left on Livingston Drive. Jog right on Ocean Boulevard. Follow Ocean west along the beach. Although you are permitted to run this section on beach paths, Ocean is more direct, and if you stay on the left or beach side of the street, you shouldn’t have a problem with cross traffic. You will be able to see the Queen Mary at her permanent dock. Continue on Ocean through downtown Long Beach and across the Gerald Desmond Bridge to Terminal Island. On Terminal Island, Ocean changes to Seaside Avenue. Stop at the entrance to the Vincent Thomas Bridge where your time will be recorded.

  The Vincent Thomas Bridge is normally not open to foot traffic, but we have received a special dispensation to have it open it for 30 minutes from 10 to 10:30 a.m. All runners must cross the bridge during this time period. Your time will start again when the bridge opens for us. After crossing the bridge, head south (left). Jog west to Pacific Avenue or Gaffey Street and continue heading south. It is also okay to run on the smaller streets until you get to 25th Street. Turn right (west) on 25th. You must be on 25th Street when you cross Western Avenue. 25th Street becomes Palos Verdes Drive South. Circumnavigate the fabulous Palos Verdes Peninsula on Palos Verdes Drive South and Palos Verdes Drive West. You will pass Marineland of the Pacific with its orcas, dolphins, and seals. Palos Verdes Drive West becomes Palos Verdes Drive North near Malaga Cove. Jog left on Palos Verdes Boulevard and follow it to Pacific Coast Highway in Redondo Beach where the run ends.

  ***

  Drake was surprised at how well he was adapting to running almost every day. He was controlling his back pain with chiropractic sessions, lots of stretching, and baths that Melody had talked him into taking when they stayed at a motel that had bathtubs in the rooms. Being English, Melody was used to taking hot baths, but she said that for running, a cool bath was better than a hot bath—in fact, the colder the better.

  It took Drake a while to become convinced of that, but he found that in fact a cold bath after running was good not only for his back, but also his legs and feet.

  When the wakeup call came at 6 a.m., he felt chipper enough to wish the caller a good morning.

  “Mr. Drake?”

  “Yes.” He was surprised that the desk clerk was still on the line.

  “I have an envelope for you at the desk.”

  Drake suddenly felt as cold as if he were taking one of those baths.

  “Don’t touch it. I’ll be right there.”

  He pulled on some clothes and raced out to the front desk, surprising the meek-looking man with glasses who, he was certain, hadn’t expected him so fast.

  “Show me where the envelope is, but don’t touch it.”

  The man looked scared. “I’ve—I’ve already touched it, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s okay. I…I think it’s a prank. I don’t want a dragon to pop out at you.”

  Slightly mollified, the clerk pointed to the envelope, which was sitting on a table on his side of the counter. He opened the door for Drake, who took a handkerchief out of his pocket, stepped behind the counter, and carefully picked up the envelope by its corner. He smiled at the clerk.

  “I have this friend who likes to play practical jokes.”

  With his free hand, Drake reached into another pocket and pulled out his wallet. Using dexterity fueled by long practice, he extracted a dollar bill from the wallet using only the one hand, and handed it to the clerk.

  “Thanks for notifying me so fast.”

  “Oh, the envelope came an hour ago.”

  “Did you see who delivered it?”

  “It must have happened when I stepped away from the counter for a minute. I had to go to the men’s room. When I returned, it was sitting right here.”

  Drake thanked the clerk again and hurried back to his room. He sat on the bed and inspected the envelope. It was a white, business-size envelope and had his name typed on the outside, just like the first one. The printing looked different, however. Several of the letters were slightly smeared, as if from dirty typewriter keys. They had been typed on a manual typewriter, not an electric.

  The envelope was sealed in one spot, just like the first one. Drake took the small Swiss Army Knife he carried and slid a blade under the flap to unseal it, being careful not to touch the envelope with his fingers. Holding it with the handkerchief, he opened it and extracted the white sheet of paper inside, using a different part of the handkerchief. He unfolded the paper and read it.

  To: Oliver Drake

  From: The Syndicate

  So far good. You have recovered nice from acident. Good news. Now that you back in top shape we need you to do one thing more. Win race. You long shot, exelent odds. Good for both of us. You get million dollers, we get big money to. You have to start working harder. Maybe we help you. Dont forget Melodys mom. Dont show letter to any one.

  Win the race? Why not ask him to fly to the moon without a rocket? The stakes were being raised. Shit. Drake retrieved his wallet and found the card that Slick had given him. He picked up the phone and called the number listed for the Christian Bookstore, not expecting an answer this early in the morning. The call was answered on the second ring by a female voice.

  “Christian Bookstore.”

  “This is Drake. I need to talk to Slick.”

  “He’ll call you back in five minutes, Mr. Drake. May I have your number?”

  Drake gave her the number and hung up. He debated whether to tell Melody about the new letter immediately. He decided not to for a couple of reasons, including the fact that he didn’t know Grace’s room number. He opened his suitcase and, using the blade from his Swiss Army Knife, carefully reopened a slit in the lining that he had made after his room had been searched.

  He had sewed it up again using the sewing kit his mother had put together for him when he left for college. Fine stitches, just like she had taught him. Even a person experienced in finding things wouldn’t spot them during a fast search. He pulled a copy of the original note out of the space behind the lining. Now he could verify the similarities and differences between the two notes.

  He would also make a copy of the new note before he gave it to Slick. If he were careful, he could do it without damaging any fingerprints. The motel had a copier; the clerk at the desk would help him.

  ***

  “We’re runnin
g faster today. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  Melody’s question brought home to Drake what effect the letter was having on him. It scared the hell out of him. All the runners were in a tight group as they navigated east Long Beach. Of course, if he and Melody wanted to actually win the race, they had to be ahead of the others, not just with them. Way ahead. They were many hours behind Tom and Jerry overall.

  “Let’s drop back ten yards. I need to talk to you.”

  “We’ll catch them again if they have to stop for a light.”

  “I haven’t noticed that they pay much attention to mundane things like traffic lights.”

  It was true. The runners tended to keep moving in these urban areas, regardless of traffic, crossing streets against lights, endangering themselves. It was amazing what the carrot of a million dollars did to one.

  Drake and Melody dropped back as they turned onto Ocean Avenue. With the beach now on the left, there was little cross traffic, and it was less dangerous and easier to talk. Drake filled Melody in on the letter, trying to keep his voice calm. He watched her face and saw the strain there, but she didn’t interrupt him. He mentioned that he had talked to Slick.

  She pulled a bottle of Gatorade from her pouch and took a swig. “How are you going to get the letter to Slick?”

  “He told me he’d meet us somewhere along our route. I gave him the route and approximate times.”

  “So you have the letter with you.”

  “Inside the envelope, inside a paper bag, inside my pouch. I haven’t touched it with my fingers.”

  “The desk clerk’s prints will be on the envelope.”

  “We’re covered on that. I asked him to give me a piece of paper to write a note on. I had him pick a sheet from the middle of a pile of typewriter paper, so the only prints on it will be his and mine. I even got him to hold it with both hands. I’ll give that to Slick too.”

  “Sometimes I’m amazed at your cleverness. What time was the envelope delivered?”

  “About five. The desk clerk was away from the desk and didn’t see who brought it.”

  “Drake, Grace’s alarm clock went off at quarter to five. I pretended to be asleep, but I watched her out of one eye. She threw on some clothes and went out of the room. She returned a few minutes after five and got back into bed.”