Run into Trouble (18 page)

Drake and Melody stared at him. They hadn’t
expected anything this sinister. Drake took hold of the soft tissue
at the top of Sterling’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Ouch. You’re hurting me.”

“Give me a name.”

“What?”

“Give me a name in Vegas.”

“I can’t. They’ll kill me.”

He was clearly terrified.

Drake contemplated. “If you give me a name,
I’ll make sure you have at least a twenty-four hour start before
anybody in Vegas gets wind of anything. Your name will be kept out
of it. If you don’t cooperate, I can get your name plastered all
over the front pages, because the race is getting lots of press.
Then who’ll be the long shot? If you like, I’ll get you into the
witness protection program.”

“I’ll…take my chances on my own. Okay. Give
me a sheet of paper.”

He wouldn’t say the name out loud. It was as
if he were afraid the room was bugged, although common sense said
it wasn’t. He wrote it down. Drake read it. The name looked vaguely
familiar. At least it was a real person. Sterling wouldn’t lie by
giving a name of a real person who wasn’t involved. That would be
too risky.

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
staff 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.