Run into Trouble by Alan Cook Read Free Book Online Page A

it was faster to give in than to argue. She checked a list and dialed a number. After a pause she said, “Peter? Hang on. Mr. Drake wants to speak to you.”
    She handed the receiver across the counter to Drake. He put it to his ear. “Hello, Peter?”
    “Yes.”
    “This is Oliver Drake. You were given an envelope to give me?”
    “Oh…right.”
    “What time was that?”
    “Let’s see. Johnny Carson had ended. I was doing some paperwork. It must have been about midnight.”
    “Can you describe the person who gave it to you?”
    “Not very well. He—or maybe she—I’m not even sure which, was wearing a sweatshirt with a hood and dark glasses. Jeans, tennies. Not too tall, slim build. I didn’t see any hair, because it was covered by the hood. The face was smooth—young looking.”
    “Did he—or she—speak to you?”
    “No. He came running into the motel like he was trying to catch a bus, handed the envelope to me, and ran out again without saying a word.”
    “Did you see a car or anything?”
    “No. He disappeared. I was so surprised that I followed him to the door, but by the time I got outside, he was out of sight.”
    “You said the face was smooth and young looking. Like that of a young man or woman?”
    “Yeah, either one.”
    “You didn’t see any lipstick or anything?”
    “Nope. I’m not saying she wasn’t wearing lipstick. I didn’t get a good look at the face. It happened so fast.”
    “Did you notice anything else about the person?”
    “He sure could run fast. That’s about it.”
    “Okay, Peter. Thanks for your help. If you think of anything more, could you call…Giganticorp—you must have their corporate number—and leave a message for Oliver Drake of Running California? Leave a number where you can be reached in the evening, and I’ll call you back.”
    “After ten I’m usually at the motel. I work the night shift.”
    Drake said good-bye and hung up. He turned and found Melody at his elbow. He had been so absorbed in the call that he hadn’t seen her approach. Her face looked ashen under her tan. They needed to talk, but not here with people milling around, including some of the runners.
    “Let’s go next door to the café.”
    He took her arm and guided her out of the motel. A few minutes later they were seated at a booth that promised some privacy as long as they kept their voices low. He ordered orange juice, scrambled eggs, and toast for Melody—she appeared to be in shock—and coffee and a bigger breakfast, including bacon and potatoes, for himself.
    Melody, who had been clutching the piece of paper, laid it on the table. “Do you think this is a prank?”
    “If so, the prankster has a lot of information about us, including where your mother lives. I think we have to treat it as real. The first thing we can do is stay in the run. By carrying out the instructions, we hopefully protect your mother.”
    And give Melody some piece of mind.
    “I want to call my mum and see if she’s all right.”
    “I don’t know if we can make overseas calls from the motel. Fred should be able to set it up for us. If necessary, he can patch it through Giganticorp. We can tell him your mother’s been sick. I don’t think we should tell him about the note yet until we have some more information about who it’s from. The writer said not to.”
    When they had worked together fighting Communism, they had operated on the premise that they couldn’t trust anyone. That was probably a good approach to follow here.
    “How are we going to get that information?”
    “After we get to our next stop, I’ll call a guy in D.C. I worked with, see if he’s familiar with any betting syndicates. He’s the only one still working there that I trust.”
    ***
    “I wish we’d been able to reach my mum.”
    “She was probably out in her garden. She has such a beautiful garden. We’ll try again this afternoon.”
    “Not too late. There’s an eight-hour time difference. If we call at four