“It’s a good thing we don’t like to play golf. We might get seduced and stay here forever.”
Melody had been taking in the beautifully manicured golf courses along the 17 Mile Drive, some of them set against the cliffs overlooking the ocean.
Drake snorted. “The first question I have is how much money is lost in golf balls that go over the cliffs.”
“Spoken like a true nonbeliever.”
“I think there’s a fundamental difference between golfers and runners. Golfers make a big show out of having the right equipment and the right balls and the right lessons. Then most of them go out and stink up the course while riding in golf carts, which means that they don’t even get any exercise. Runners are pure; they don’t need fancy equipment. They don’t put on a show. They just run.”
Melody was laughing so hard that she had trouble running. “Don’t let any of the golfers hear you. They’ll beat you to death with their nine-irons. I wonder what they think when we run past.”
“They feel a mixture of horror and pity, I’m sure. Just the idea that they might get sweat stains on their peacock shirts is more than they can bear.”
Melody scanned the road in front and behind them. Every one of the runners was in sight. “It looks like we’re having a group event today. Maybe we should have a picnic together on the rocks-practice our togetherness.”
“There’ll be a chance for individual initiative when we get to Pacific Grove. We’ll be running on some side streets. Although it may just be the luck of the draw who picks the route with the fewest lights and traffic. Have you had any more thoughts on Casey?”
“He’s certainly trying to buy your silence, at least as far as your father is concerned.”
“I’m all for taking his money as compensation for my injuries, but I don’t like his political methods. I don’t like his agenda either-especially the land grab. I’m not going to vote for him.”
“As long as you’re in the run and you don’t bad-mouth him to your dad, you may be giving him all the help he needs.”
“There’ll be plenty of time to expose him after the run is over.”
“You hope.”
Drake’s message light at the motel in Monterey was blinking. The motel was close to where they had met Casey last night. They could have stayed here both nights, since they had just run around the peninsula that contained Monterey, Pacific Grove, and Carmel, but had not advanced very far up the coast.
Running the 17 Mile Drive instead of bypassing the area on Route 1 had given them maximum exposure. Sometimes people they passed recognized who they were from their Running California shirts and cheered them on. Having them seen by the populace couldn’t be bad for Casey.
The message was to meet Slick at a coffee shop in Monterey at six. It was within walking distance of the motel. This left them plenty of time to clean up. Drake called Melody’s room to pass the information on to her.
When Drake and Melody walked into the coffee shop precisely at six, Slick wasn’t already there. That was a surprise. They went to a booth in the corner and sat down. They sipped iced tea and waited while speculating what his news would be.
At 6:15 Drake started to get restless. “I don’t want to sit here and starve while waiting for him not to show. Let’s order dinner.”
Melody, who had already checked the menu, made a face. “I think this is the original greasy spoon.”
“You can always order a salad or something.”
Drake wasn’t as particular about the food he ate. They both settled for fish and chips since this was seafood country. After all, what can you do to fish and chips? Drench the coleslaw in too much mayonnaise and serve soggy chips. Melody remarked that at least they got the name correct, calling them chips instead of French fries.
“I see you started without me.”
They were both intent on chewing mouthfuls of food and hadn’t seen Slick approach the table. Drake almost choked on his fish. Melody put her napkin to her mouth to hide the fact that mayonnaise was dribbling down her chin. She recovered first. “We thought you’d fallen off the dock and drowned.”
“No such luck.”
Slick sat down next to Melody and smiled at the waitress who had bustled over to the table. He ordered a Coke. When the waitress asked whether he wanted to order dinner, he took a look at Drake’s and Melody’s plates and declined. He sat there perfectly at ease, not apologizing, watching them eat.
Drake said, “Who called this meeting?”
Slick fished around in an attache case he had with him and pulled out some photographic prints.
“Interesting developments from Melody’s pictures, pun intended. Blade wanted me to show you these, especially one.” He took his time selecting a print from the pile. To Melody he said, “You’re a pretty good photographer, shooting under less than ideal conditions-poor lighting and, of course, you didn’t have all day to compose these. This one’s a little fuzzy, but if you look at it through this magnifying glass…”
“I’ll take all that as a compliment.”
She took the print and magnifying glass from Slick. She studied the print for a few seconds.
“I took this on my knees because I saw something near the floor-near the deck, I mean-that caught my eye. It was in a shadow; I didn’t know if it would turn out.”
“It’s good enough so we can tell what it is. It’s the Giganticorp logo.”
Melody recognized it now because it was on their running shirts: a caricature of a giant inside a letter G. She almost forgot to keep her voice down.
“My God. Are you telling me that Giganticorp built the sub?”
Drake had been impatiently waiting his turn. He reached across the table and more or less grabbed the photo and the magnifying glass from Melody. He peered through the glass until he had it focused on the photo.
“Unless someone’s playing games, that’s the Big G logo, all right.”
Slick smiled smugly, now that he had their attention. “Some things are coming together. We’ve been able to get our hands on plans for a similar rig that Big G is supposedly just now developing, and there is an amazing resemblance to the description you all gave me.”
A thought occurred to Melody. “The military have been studying the sub. Surely they must have seen the logo, too.”
Drake said, “Surely they must have. Surely they and Big G are in bed together. It isn’t unknown for us to sell weapons to our enemies. We’ve done it before.”
Slick smiled. “You two must have used some kind of leverage on Casey to get him to give you the tour. I’m sure he didn’t volunteer to do it. Either he forgot about the logo or figured he’d whisk you around so fast you wouldn’t have a chance to see it.”
Melody was still trying to figure out what happened. “Do you think Casey and his brass sold it to the bad guys without permission? What are they trying to do, start a war?”
Slick gave a head movement that was almost a nod. “That’s difficult to substantiate, but we’re working on it.”
Drake asked, “Is Casey in hot water?”
“The president has requested that Casey go to D.C. for a little chat. He’s flying tonight on the red-eye.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“Keep your eyes open. I suspect we don’t know the whole story yet. Not everything jives.”
Drake had been thinking about that. “Such as the disappearance of the crew of the sub without leaving behind any evidence as to who they were or where they went. They didn’t get picked up by a larger ship, and they made no effort to scuttle the sub so it wouldn’t be found. Besides, if there are no mechanical problems with the sub, why did they leave it behind?”
Slick did a full nod. “Good questions all. Thinking makes me hungry. I’m going to order a big piece of apple pie
