Run into Trouble

CHAPTER 17

Today’s run goes from Oxnard Beach Park to Carpenteria State Beach in Santa Barbara County. Start by heading north on Harbor Boulevard. However, beginning today we’re going to let you decide when to run on the beach and when to run on a road. In some places along this stretch it may even be advantageous to run on the railroad tracks, but be careful of the spaces between the ties if you do this. Always watch for trains. The additional freedom should give more weight to individual tactics and make the race more competitive. Maybe we won’t see so much running by committee.

The handwritten sheets that Fred distributed to the runners each morning before they started bore the unmistakable flourishes of his big round hand. Whatever else you could say about Fred, he had beautiful handwriting. In addition, he wrote in distinctive green ink with a fountain pen, although you couldn’t tell that from the black and white copies that were usually produced at the motel where they stayed.

The runners were gathering in front of the motel in the early morning fog, a magician that made the beach disappear, waiting for Peaches to produce the bus that would take them to today’s starting point. Most wore sweatshirts over their running clothes that they would leave on the bus. They stretched and moved around, trying to get warm and loose. The other runners, including Melody, could stretch their bodies in ways that Drake could never hope to emulate. He was just trying to relax his back muscles so he wouldn’t have spasms.

Since it was only a few blocks to their starting point, they could easily have walked the distance, but Fred insisted that everybody be treated the same so they would get a fair start. Fred was all about fairness, thought Drake. Or was he? Wasn’t this change designed to help Melody and him? Give them an opportunity to break away from the pack by taking a different route? Of course it could backfire if they chose the wrong route. Drake shared the sheet with Melody, wanting to get her reaction.

“I’ll bet Tom and Jerry are in a funk about this.”

Drake was surprised. Only Tom and Jerry? He had been thinking too narrowly. It was true. The new rules were opening the door to all the other teams. Tom and Jerry could no longer guarantee their leading margin by staying with the pack, if the pack split up and went several different ways. The race could get more exciting.

“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 running, 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.