Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

talking, trying to make sense of the past few days. She fell asleep first. Jack, lying next to Max, listened to her deep, regular breathing as he tried to fall asleep. His eyes would close, but the events of the past few days kept flashing in and out of his head, creating a mosaic that in one moment made perfect sense and then, in the next, none. His eyes would open, expecting that morning had arrived, only to find when he looked at the clock that a mere thirty minutes had gone by. And so, his night passed, with sleep coming in fits and starts, until finally he awoke to a thin beam of sunlight streaming in through the gap between the window’s curtains
    Sleep must have finally won the battle, because a quick glance at the clock told him that several hours had passed since the last time he remembered checking. Max continued to breathe deeply, so he slid out from under the covers, tiptoed across the room to the window, and peeked out.
    The sudden brightness that flooded in as he pulled the curtains further apart forced him to squint. Before his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he could feel the sun’s warmth. Then, as he continued to look out, he saw a cloudless blue sky and a bejeweled landscape created by the sun’s reflection off of the remaining puddles and wet spots from the previous day’s rain.
    When Jack released the curtains, the room returned to its pre-dawn gloom. He quietly dressed and slipped out into the new day. He inhaled deeply and closing his eyes, savored the sensory barrage of smells and sounds from the retreating dampness: the wet earth, the fragrance of flowers opening fully for the first time in days, coffee brewing in some unseen kitchen, the schwoosh of a car driving over wet pavement as the last puddles disappeared.
    Then, like a cloud passing in front of the sun, a sense of foreboding washed over him. He thought about Daniel, his story, and the fear that Daniel had shared with him and Max out on the ocean not all that long ago. What did he want them to do? Why meet here, in York? What happened that resulted in his death? Was it Kurt? Probably. But how did Kurt know about their meeting? What if the bartender was right and Kurt had been there the night before? He shivered as if to shake those thoughts away. That didn’t work, but a stomach grumble did.
    Jack knew he had to call Tom and tell him what had happened. But he didn’t look forward to it. When his stomach grumbled a second time, he allowed it to trump what he had to do. Putting off the call, he went in search of more of those fantastic blueberry muffins.

CHAPTER 49
    “WHAT ARE YOU doing up in York?” Tom asked immediately.
    “Max and I sailed up here a coupla’ days ago. We were supposed to meet Daniel up here, only he never showed, and we got stuck here because of the weather. Then, when we went to move the boat to a different mooring, something fouled the prop and that turned out to be Daniel. The police here would like to keep the boat for a few days.” Jack said all of this in one long breath so as not to be interrupted. He knew Tom was going to be pissed off.
    He was right. After a short silence, Tom spoke again. Even with a calm, flat voice his anger came through. “Just so you know, Jack,” he paused for emphasis, “We have a lot to talk about, starting with Daniel. Back when you told me about Max seeing him, you promised to keep me informed. I knew that you probably weren’t telling me the whole story, but this is way beyond anything I would have expected. Do you need a ride home?
    “I hadn’t planned that far ahead yet.”
    “Good. Then I’m going to clear my calendar and I’ll come get you.”
    “Tom, you don’t have to do that. I can call Courtney, or Patti.”
    “No, Jack. I do. And when I get there, you had better be prepared to talk and tell me everything.”
    “No problem. We’ll be here at the York Harbor Inn, waiting.”
    “It’ll be a coupla’ hours.”
    “See you when you get here. And thanks,” said Jack. The phone went dead. Jack didn’t move; he just continued to hold the phone in his hand, as if somehow he could delay that inevitable conversation.
    “Who was that?” asked Max as she walked out of the bathroom. Her hair was still wet from the shower and she was wrapped in a large white towel.
    Her voice startled him and as he turned toward her, he finally hung up the phone. “Tom. I called to tell him about Daniel. He’s coming to pick us up.”
    “He doesn’t have to do