Beirut File

Arlington, Virginia

Arlington, VirginiaH

e fed Bear and then watched the big dog wander around the condo sniffing and looking for Chan as he had every day since Shake picked him up from a buddy’s suburban spread where he stayed while they were in Korea. Bear had no luck in his search and neither did Shake in checking his email and phone messages. With a glass of bourbon over ice in one hand and his computer mouse in the other, Shake scrolled through his contact file and found the direct dial number for Tracey’s lab at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. The more he thought about it on the drive home from Quantico, the more Shake thought Mike had a point. It would be just like Chan to call Tracey and have her check on him every once in a while if she couldn’t. She’d have given Tracey a reason for that and it might have included where she was going if not what she was doing.

The phone rang just twice before Shake heard a male voice announcing that he’d reached the Species Research lab at Woods Hole. He identified himself as Tracey’s dad and asked to speak to her.

“This is Tony LaBella, Mr. Davis…” The voice on the line sounded breathless as if he’d run some distance to reach the phone. “I work with Tracey in the lab. I’m afraid she’s not here.”

“Can I leave a message?” Shake vaguely recalled his daughter mentioning the guy on the line as a close friend and an expert in deep water ichthyology. “I tried her cell number but she’s not answering.”

“Yeah, that figures. She told me before she left that she wasn’t going to be in regular contact.”

“Left for where? Isn’t she there at Woods Hole?”

“She’s in Boston, Mr. Davis—running in the Boston Marathon. She’s been training for months and said this was her year to give it a shot. I wouldn’t worry too much. She hasn’t returned any of my calls either. If it helps, she’s staying with some friends from the Navy Reserve who are big time runners. I’ve got their contact information.”

Shake copied the information but when he hung up and dialed the Boston number he got yet another frustrating, cheery invitation to leave a message. He didn’t bother. A quick check of the internet told him the marathon was due to start in the morning. The Jeep had a full tank of gas and he could make the trip to Boston by mid-afternoon if he got an early start. Tracey had been a long distance runner since high school and always said she wanted to do a marathon some day. He’d surprise her and be there when she finished. It would be a nice treat for both of them and give Shake something to do besides sit around worrying.

He poured another drink and called his buddy in the suburbs. Bear was bound for another stint in the boarding kennel and Shake was bound for Boston.