Run into Trouble (16 page)

“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.

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 Drake 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.”

Grace was the only one who called Casey Mr.
Messinger. Melody turned her head around from the passenger
position in the front seat.

“Everything in politics is curious, but you
can bet your knickers it’s all carefully planned.”

“Knickers?”

Drake, an expert at Brit-speak, laughed.
“She means panties. Casey will undoubtedly mention Running
California in his speech. I just hope he doesn’t try to get us on
stage like he did at the Coronado Bridge. We’ll sit in the back and
be inconspicuous.”

Judging from the number of cars parked in
the lot beside the auditorium, it was a popular event. As they
walked up the steps, Drake realized he was getting some looks from
people wondering how he deserved to have a beautiful woman on
either side of him, each dressed up in a short skirt and sheer silk
blouse, as if they had consulted each other. They undoubtedly had.
He had even taken some care with his own appearance. At least they
didn’t look like runners.

They found seats in the back as the crowd
filled much of the auditorium. When the lights dimmed and a man
appeared onstage to introduce Casey, it turned out to be none other
than Fred. The three exchanged looks as Fred launched into a
mercifully short introduction.

When Casey appeared, he received a generous
round of applause. Drake and Melody went through the motions of
clapping; Grace was more enthusiastic.

Casey was a good, if not great, public
speaker. He touched on some of the usual subjects: prosperity,
jobs, crime, taxes. Then he mentioned Running California. The
runners had just come through Santa Barbara. They were a good
advertisement for California and would promote tourism.

Unfortunately, one of the runners had been
killed in the Malibu incident. Of course this had been featured in
all the media, and when he told a story about Harrison’s parents
saying that the race must go on, he received a round of applause.
This allowed him to segue into the security of the California
coast.

Casey talked about the troops in Malibu and
the patrolling naval ships, but he said that more had to be done.
Drake was beginning to nod off when Casey said that people living
on or near the beach were in danger from any attack. Something in
Casey’s tone brought Drake to full alertness. Casey continued to
speak.

“The California beaches have always belonged
to the people. They always will belong to the people.”

Applause.

“As the law stands now, beaches are public
property below the mean high-tide line. That has allowed houses to
be built on the beach at Malibu and other places.”

Other places close to Santa Barbara.

“The time has come to return the beaches to
the people.”

The crowd cheered. Drake saw an appalled
expression on Melody’s face that must have matched his own. There
were undoubtedly some beach landowners in the crowd. What must they
be thinking?

Casey went on to explain how creating a
buffer zone between the water and any buildings would enhance
security, and, at the same time, allow the people, as he called
them, better access to the beach. His speech was a rousing
success.

***

“Wasn’t Mr. Messinger great?”

Grace was bubbling with enthusiasm for
Casey. Drake glanced at Melody sitting beside him in the car,
hoping that she would offer a response to Grace, as he didn’t want
to be the one to stick a pin in her balloon. Melody turned her head
toward the backseat.