Alan Cook - Run into Trouble

“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.

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 cliches.”

“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.

She seemed to emerge from a brief trance when she entered the room. She didn’t speak, and Drake felt it was his duty to break an awkward silence. “Where’s Melody?”

“Oh, she went out for a drink with Tom and Jerry.”

“And you didn’t go because you don’t cotton to runners.”

“Something like that. Although they invited me. Can we sit down?”

The only chair had Drake’s suitcase on it. He took a step toward it when she spoke.

“That’s okay. We can sit on the bed.”

It wasn’t okay. She sat down beside him on the bed, so close that their bare arms and legs touched, generating something akin to static electricity. Drake was distinctly uncomfortable. He also felt something else he hadn’t felt much of since the race had started. He tried to sound jovial. “So what can I do for you?”

“Nothing. Just sit with me and keep me company.”

She glanced at his chest again. “Your bruise is all gone.”

She reached out her far hand and touched him just below the breast bone. His muscles retracted a little in a reflex from being touched in a sensitive place. She hesitated. He couldn’t make her think he didn’t like her. “Sorry. Reflex. Like when the doctor hits you below the kneecap.”

She gained courage and touched him again. Her fingers moved around his chest. Softly. Sensuously. “You don’t have much chest hair.”

“I shave.”

A feeble attempt at a joke. What should he do? He didn’t want her to stop. He didn’t want her to continue. He did nothing.

She broke the silence. “I have the advantage over you.”

Before Drake could guess what she meant, she reached down and pulled her shirt over her head in one fluid motion. As she tossed it on the chair, Drake was struck with the inane thought that here was proof she didn’t wear a bra.

She smiled. “There. We’re even.”

She went back to playing with his chest. He sat frozen.

She spoke again. “Do I have to do everything? You can do to me what I’m doing to you. It would be nice to have somebody I like touching me for a change. Or you can just look. Your choice.”

He did some of each. Her skin was silky. Her nipples reacted to his touch. He tried to come to his senses. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

It sounded like one of the cliches Melody accused him of spouting. Grace apparently thought so too. “Yes, we should. Why not? Because of Melody? She’s out with somebody else. You’re not sleeping with her. Why shouldn’t we enjoy each other? I know you like me.”

To prove her point, she slid her hand down his front, finding out for herself. He was scared for the first time since he had been young. “I don’t know if I can perform after all this running.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll do what we can. Maybe I can help.”

She could. Drake couldn’t believe how strong he suddenly felt.

Drake was startled into wakefulness by the loud knocking on his door. His first thought, mixed up with his recurring erotic dream, was that Grace had returned. What time was it? It was dark outside. Drake clicked on the light beside the bed and looked at his watch. Almost 5:30. Morning.

He still couldn’t shake the idea that it must be Grace. Was she upset about last night? He was naked; he needed to put something on. He grabbed his briefs from the floor and pulled them up. They would have to do. He opened the door, fully expecting to see Grace. Instead he saw Melody.